by Eva Gordon
Rylee and Dr. Warner cautiously stepped out.
Cricket looked back at the prince. He covered his large hands over his face as if despondent. His sadness touched her heart. “Sir, do you mind stepping back into the chamber?”
Slade nodded and stood, towering over her. He turned and walked back in.
Cricket couldn’t believe it. No werewolf had ever obeyed her like that. Was it the sedative?
Rylee locked the door and shot her a smile. “Good job.”
What did I do? “Thank you, ma’am.”
Rylee winked at her.
She tilted her head to the side. Unbelievable. Rylee knew all along if she let him out of his cell, he wouldn’t harm her. Cricket wished she had as much faith.
Dr. Warner released a long breath. “Prince Slade, do you accept Cricket as your pack subordinate until you are well enough to rejoin pack society?”
I should remind him, it’s assistant not subordinate. Cricket opened her mouth to protest, but Rylee narrowed her eyes at her.
“Yes.” Slade stared at Cricket as if she had any say. “However, I prefer my guest quarters.”
Rylee spoke, “Just know, if we comply with your wish, we have to sedate you. Your wolf may not be as cooperative.”
Cricket lifted her brows. “I guess the dart wasn’t strong enough to knock him out?”
Dr. Warner shook his head. “Not even close.”
“Very well. As long as only Cricket sedates me,” said Slade.
Warner handed her a thick syringe. “This will do the job.”
Cricket snorted. “At least what I gave him calmed him enough.” Or drugged enough to listen to a runt.
“Not quite,” said Warner.
“Huh?”
“Nothing calms a wolf suffering from morphopsychosis or a better term, morphogenesis, more than being around the lowest ranked wolf.”
Well, how convenient. The entire scene had been a test. Lucky for me they were right.
Rylee smiled. “Don’t take it personally. Think of it as just another mission.”
Ouch. It was hard not to. They had used her. Counting on her inferior runt status being an advantage. Wasting her talent, babysitting. Rude. The team needed her. “Ma’am, I…”
Rylee growled at her.
Cricket held her tongue. “Very well.”
She entered the chamber and approached the beast of a man, doing her best to act the submissive wolf, but her tight lips telegraphed how she felt. Hate being here, your royal high ass-ness.
Slade narrowed his eyes at the attractive runt as she stepped closer, holding the powerful sedative in her small delicate hands. He sniffed her. Her alluring scent reminded him of the sweet bloom of a rare wild rose growing on a bare mountain despite the harsh weather. As a cub, he remembered a runt born to a beta couple. The poor thing didn’t survive the winter. Not that he wasn’t loved, cared for and protected, but apparently he had weak lungs and died of a virus. Slade’s mother had told him it was better the runt had not lasted. The change would have killed him anyway. He cocked his head. Yet, somehow, this fragile female runt named after an insect survived into adulthood and the change. Most intriguing.
Blasted Dr. Warner. He was right. Being around a weaker wolf brought out his protective nature and worse, made him feel calm, as if he needed to reassure her she’d be safe with him. Not that his sorrow had vanished, but her presence took the edge from his fierce wolf. Almost kept him human. Fucking frustrating. “Go on. Do it.”
Cricket didn’t cower, like a submissive wolf should, but frowned. “I need your exposed arm.”
Stubborn and fearless. No wonder she survived the change. He dropped his robe and flexed his bicep.
Cricket stared at her feet. He smelled her arousal. She was petite, delicate, almost human, not the type of female he dated. Besides, no one ever had sex with a runt, even for fun. Still, something about her enchanted him. No doubt, part of his mental breakdown.
She cleared her voice. “If you don’t mind sitting.”
The feel of her hand on his taut skin comforted him. So soothing. He gazed at his personal submissive.
The sudden sting of the needle hurt like hell. “Blast!” He growled.
“Sorry.”
Slade noted the suppression of a smile on her perky kissable lips. Her manners, defiant. Rude. He meant to stand and force her to bow, but blackness ensued.
Chapter 2
Cricket closed her laptop and glanced at her watch. Two hours had passed since they brought Slade up to his guest quarters. While in her own room following the story about the missing werewolves, she’d kept her ears attuned to any disturbance. Time to do boring rounds. She stood and walked to the adjoining room of Prince Slade’s suite. She pressed her ear to the door. Just normal breathing accompanied with the occasional “doggy” nightmare growls and grumbles.
Warner’s powerful drug had done its job. Too well. No wonder Slade and his shrink didn’t seem to have a close patient to doctor relationship. From what Rylee told her, Dr. Warner requested the prince stay at his private clinic in Maine, but Rylee and Conan, the lycan king had denied it. Probably for security reasons. His isolated Maine territory didn’t have the armed forces to offer the prince protection while he suffered from morphopsychosis. As the only surviving werewolf of the Yukon pack, Slade must continue his line. Dr. Warner would see him later today before leaving at the end of the week. Why was Warner not hanging around to monitor his change until he healed? It’s not like there’s a long line of lycans with psychological issues.
Cricket shook her head. Warner had omegas for the purpose of calming nutty alphas and betas. Surely, Slade would have been better off with Warner and his more understanding staff. Mostly, I’d be better off.
She opened the door, and her lips parted. Slade lay naked on his back. His bulk sprawled over the entire king size bed. Okay, partially naked. When they delivered him, somebody had draped a blanket over his private parts. Darn. Still, her wolfish appetite for hot men went in overdrive. His lean muscular legs gave him the appearance of an Olympic athlete. Actually, one from Mt. Olympus, a Greek god. Geez, he would look hot in a toga or kilt. Or nothing. She licked her lips as her gaze scrolled over his broad shoulders. Light brown chest hair over ripped chest and abs. He smelled of snow-covered mountains and raw alpha testosterone. A soft growl escaped her throat. She collared her naughty she-wolf. No candy sampling. Just make sure, he’s okay.
Cricket continued the inspection of her charge. Though in need of a shave, the temptation to trace his well-defined jawline nearly overpowered her good senses. A frown shadowed his ruggedly handsome face, and his lips parted slightly, displaying sharp fangs. Ready for a brawl. Was he having nightmares? Did guilt and regret for not being home when his pack was attacked permanently scar his heart? Could she really help him? A hint of laugh lines around his eyes professed he was once happy. Despite her resentment toward his privileged life and status, her heart ached for him.
Cricket sighed.
Somewhere out there, one lucky she-wolf bitch would claim him as her mate. Part of her job description was matchmaker. Once Slade overcame his grief and psych issues, Cricket would search for a perfect alpha mate. A female willing to join Rylee’s pack and even consider being part of team Greywolf or just work for the LIA. Although, if his chosen female preferred to move elsewhere, Rylee would lose the chance of having a strong alpha team member.
Cricket licked her lips. What woman wouldn’t willingly join the pack just to wake up to the yummy hunk?
She pouted and closed the door and headed for the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Oh, well. The sooner he healed and found a mate the sooner she could continue with her life. Not only had she been taken off any interesting assignments, but also, not allowed to work at the lab. Their head geneticist Selene had asked her to assist with mapping out the werewolf genome or what they called Luponomics whenever she could. As much as she enjoyed being an agent for the LIA, she really liked putting her molecular bi
ology degree to work. Her expertise on collecting and identifying trace werewolf DNA might help solve the case of the missing werewolves.
Was there a way to be thrown off submissive runt duty? Hmm. Offend the prince somehow, um without losing an ear or worse, a tail? Better yet, what if I attempt to seduce him? Rylee and everyone sensed her arousal when she was around not-so-charming Prince Slade. Had she sensed his desire for her? Nah, merely a symptom of his psychosis which could be problematic. Should she flirt? During his moments of lucidity, he would chase her away, and if she still acted the besotted female, would he request another submissive? Why not use her status to her advantage? A runt in the bed was a big pack no-no. Cricket smiled. Sure would be fun.
An angry roar reverberated throughout the home. Shit. He’s awake. All thoughts of seduction erased on hearing his maddened rage.
Cricket dashed back in the bedroom and noticed the back door open to a half-acre outdoor area surrounded by a tall fence. Great. He shifted. Hope he doesn’t leap over the ten foot fence. She wouldn't put it past him, especially not in his current state of mind.
She hastily undressed, then stepped out and shifted.
Slade in his immense wolf form paced the huge treed enclosure. Good, still here. Designed to protect rather than imprison visiting royal werewolves, the guest area a mile away from LIA headquarters accommodated their human and wolf form.
Slade might be nutty enough to make a jump for it. The guesthouse was isolated and hours away from human home sites, however, a mad alpha running at great speeds could out run the alerted beta guards and cause problems with humans.
Not to mention, Rylee will kill me if I don’t prevent such a disaster.
Cricket whimpered.
The huge wolf honed in on her. He marked his territory on a boulder and then trotted toward her.
She sniffed. His powerful scent, the strongest alpha aroma she'd ever smelled. After, top alphas Lev and Dominic.
Reaching her, she crouched, her rump down, wagging her tail and yipping like a submissive cub. Has my life become so pathetic?
Slade stood still, aloof, staring ahead. “Go on. Lick my chin, Little Wolf.”
Cricket suppressed the urge to nip him. No one calls me little without feeling my sharp teeth. I’m the size of a coyote so how can I blame the giant alpha for name calling when he doesn’t know how offensive it is? The Yukon pack adhered to stricter wolf status more than any other pack. Like the perfect submissive, she kissed his chin with her tongue. “How can I please you, sir?”
“Lay on your back, Little Wolf.”
Ugh. Perhaps, I can convince Rylee to assign Jesper to Slade as his guardian. Before joining the LIA, Jesper had enjoyed his role as his pack’s omega. She rolled on her back and folded her paws across her chest, exposing her belly.
Slade snarled. “Lift your hind quarters!”
If Cricket were in human form, she would have rolled her eyes and probably been bitten for insubordination. “Yes, sir.”
Slade stood over her. “Quit wiggling, or I’ll ask you to urinate.”
Not Rylee, Dominic, or even her pack comrades had insulted her with such a command. Damned if I am going to pee for the spoiled royal. She froze.
“Good, Little Wolf.” He lowered his head and licked her muzzle, throat, then moved on to her private areas.
Cricket swallowed as he gently licked her genital and anus. Normally, she’d snap at such a violation of her human rights, but damn, why was she turned on? She suppressed her desire to grunt in pleasure. And worse, she desired to move her tail to the side, enticing him to mount her. She closed her eyes in pure satisfaction, basking in his powerful all male alpha scent. It isn’t mating season, but oh how I feel like it is. What about my plan? Wasn’t I supposed to seduce him, disgust him? Not now. Not while he’s acting without human thought and all wolf. He might just snap my neck.
He stopped licking and nuzzled her nose, before staring down at her. His green eyes commanding her to obey. “Do not worry, Little Wolf. I will protect you.”
Like big brother wolf rather than want-to-mate-with-you wolf. Seduction may not be in the works. “Please, call me Cricket.” And I don’t need protecting.
“Come, let’s hunt, Little...” He smiled. “Cricket.”
She got up and shook the pine needles off her back. At least he didn’t ask for my real name. Her chest tightened. Why should he want to know her real name anyway? “Wait, how?”
“Through the front door. You can’t jump the fence.”
She stood in front of the closed door. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Slade narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
Cricket swallowed, hoping he understood she disobeyed for his sake and not in defiance. “I’m sorry, sir, but you are not well enough.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You are questioning my well-being, runt?”
Ouch. Now my turn to bite. “You are still suffering from morphopsychosis.”
“Depression over losing my beloved pack, yes, but I’m in full control of my wolf.”
“Not according to Dr. Warner, sir.” She crouched and wagged her tail, in case he wanted to rip her throat out for arguing with him.
Slade growled. “That maniac nearly killed me with his drugs.”
“Can you blame him? You were too far gone in wolf rage. Who knows what damage you might have done while in Europe and then on the plane if he hadn’t sedated you?”
“I accept tranquilization, but the drug his omega first shot me with took away my memory of the previous 48 hours before the injection. Those hours are a blank.”
“I’m sure that was part of the calming process. I’m not an expert on werewolf sedation, except its protocol still needs research.”
“I’m lucky he didn’t accidently give me a werewolf lobotomy.”
“Not without the council’s permission.” Dr. Warner would have been executed for doing so. Werewolves who had committed a great crime, like killing an innocent human or a mate were given a drug to erase all human memory, reducing him or her into a natural wolf, both mentally and in size. Werewolves feared a werewolf lobotomy almost as much as death. None could imagine losing their human mind after experiencing such intelligence.
“All I know is Rylee’s contact, Heath, interrupted Warner’s plan to transport me to his loony bin.”
Cricket understood part of Slade’s condition included periods of being delusional. Not that she cared for Dr. Warner, but he had treated werewolves with psych issues for the last twenty years and more likely wanted to help him. “From what I know, his clinic is a two-story cabin with access to miles of Maine woods.” Okay, so he had a couple of underground cages, but those were for werewolves too insane to reason with. Slade might have ended up shackled. Why did that bother her? Knowing Slade’s wolf, he would have been even angrier. But maybe Slade needed to vent and, in the end, be cured faster.
Should I convince him to go? Nah, Rylee wants him as a part of her team, hence my stupid new assignment.
Slade stepped back and shifted to human form. Umm. Human god form.
Cricket lowered her gaze.
“We’ll dress and hike then.” He turned the doorknob and stared at her. “Come.”
Suddenly shy of being naked before him, she wished she could ask him to turn around. Some seductress I am.
He snorted, “Don’t worry, I won’t kill any of Rylee’s cattle or bison.”
Her tense muscles relaxed. Good thing he didn’t think she hesitated because she was shy being naked in front of him. Being nude around other werewolves never bothered her. Why should she care now?
Cricket shifted and stood still as he gazed at her body with the hungry green eyes of a predator. Why is he staring at me as if I’m mate material? Her nipples peaked in naughty response to his wolfish stare.
Slade held the door open for Cricket. He nearly drooled. She had the sweetest svelte hot kick-ass body. Nipples begging to be licked, bitten. Howloooo. His hungry wolf desired more tha
n a little taste of Cricket.
She blushed, scooted in, and dashed to her room.
He gazed at her retreating form, enjoying her perfect round ass wiggle. More than enjoyed, but rather lusted for. Never had he felt such a need to mount a lower rank more than now. Hell, she wasn’t his type. Too petite. Too human. Not politically connected and worse, a runt. Not only forbidden as mate material, but also for a sexual romp in the den. He was unclear why. The ruling had been passed down and never questioned because it wasn’t necessary. Cricket was the first runt to survive the change in centuries. Had she earned the right to mate?
Fuck. Is my desire for the delicious brunette a strong indicator, I’m not back to normal? He walked into his room and dressed. At least he directed his confusion toward forbidden fruit rather than challenging the alphas who had robbed him of his right to kill his pack’s murderers. According to Rylee, Enforcer Dominic and key members of her Greywolf team had slaughtered them all. He should be grateful lycan justice was meted out. After all, he was stuck in Europe, maddened with grief. If they waited for him to come to his senses and return home, the bastards that slaughtered his pack might have escaped. Rylee offered him a position on Team Greywolf, to put his rage to constructive use as an elite soldier. He’d help prevent future attacks from yet unknown oath breakers. However, this was not how his inner wolf reasoned. The fierce inconsolable wolf fought to stay a beast. Leave humanity. Leave lycan society.
Cricket’s presence had changed everything. Before meeting her, he only desired to destroy, not just things but every breathing lycan or human who dared confront his beast. She calmed him. Not just because she appeared vulnerable and needed his protection, because he sensed that wasn’t true. Runt or not, she served as a special agent on Rylee’s Team Greywolf. He smiled. Her little submissive routine was contrived. Most subordinates feared him. Her scent and pulse rate proved otherwise. Instead, she tolerated him. Resented him, especially when he used his alpha gaze to render her helpless to his will and she could do nothing except submit to his needs. Yet, when she lay on her back playing the role of submissive, he’d scented her arousal. Who could blame her? She-wolves fought fang and claw for him. As soon as he was well, he’d find his mate, one who would not mind settling near LIA headquarters. An alpha who might consider working for Rylee.