After centuries of bloodshed, the witches, vampires, and weres, the largest of the immortal communities, had decided to draw up a treaty that was satisfactory to each. As a result, the Council was formed. It was divided into two levels. There was the International Council, made up of representatives from each race and country, who would meet once a year to discuss politics, business, and other issues related to keeping the races in harmony. And there were the state councils, which usually consisted of representatives from the various groups in a certain area. As the leader of one of the largest packs, Conall held one of the four seats assigned to the weres in the New York area.
“The e-mail is succinct. It doesn’t say who’s calling the meeting, but I don’t think it’s any of the weres. I spoke to Dominic and Drako before I called you. They’re as confused as we are. I couldn’t get in touch with Santiago.”
Dominic and Drako were brothers who happened to hold two of the were seats on the New York Council.
Strange, Conall thought. The Council usually met once or twice, at max three times a year, and that was only when there was a problem among the races. They’d already met twice for the year. The last time someone called a third meeting had been almost thirty years ago when there had been a miniature war between the vampire and werewolf communities. The last twenty years had been relatively tame, discounting the usual territorial spats and brawls.
The most recent Council meeting had been because a fight had broken out between the vampires and witches in Conall’s bar during the summer. Of course, his pack members had tried to separate them, only to be goaded into the mess. It was sheer luck that the humans gathered were either too drunk or too confused to focus on the happenings. They dismissed it as another club fight. It had warranted a meeting, as one of the members in the fight had been the son of a vampire council member. A third meeting, so soon on the heels of the last, screamed problems.
“Did you call Hastings?” Arnold Hastings was one of his business partners, but he was also one of the more prominent members of the vampire clans in New York City. Although he didn’t have a seat on the council, he was one of the first to know about problems in the clans.
“No. I’m calling him next.”
“Keep me updated and have Raoul set up a patrol in Cedar Creek.”
“He’s already working on that, and then he’s heading down to Fangs, just in case.” Sloan paused. “Where are you?”
Conall thought about the answer to that question. He had to discuss the attack on his mates with his betas soon, but that wasn’t something he wanted to do over the phone, especially as he believed there was more to what Max had told him.
“I’m heading to Scarsdale.” Conall paused, giving his beta ample time to ask the questions he knew were running through the wolf’s head. For whichever reason, Sloan decided not to press the topic. “I’ll be back at Cedar Creek soon. If I’m not back before dusk, set curfew. Only pack comes in; no one leaves.”
***
Vivienne couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so frustrated. This was much worse than the Logic Games section of the LSAT, worse than waiting on pins and needles at Arnold Hastings’ beck and call, worse than anything she’d ever experienced. This just took the proverbial cake.
It’s not working. Shit.
She let out a slight whine and opened her eyes. She couldn’t do it. Her mother had told her to “channel her energy” and “feel for Cassandre.” Vivienne had absolutely no idea what that meant, but Evelyn had insisted she close her eyes, and focus on Cassandre. Although her body felt different, almost like she was defying the pull of gravity, and her senses were clearer, that was about it. She couldn’t “feel” anyone. All she felt was the weird temperature of the room, which ran scalding hot and freezing cold.
“I can’t. I don’t know—this is a lot to take in…”
Her mother released her hand and opened her eyes. Vivienne immediately saw the concern written on her face.
“It’s all right, Vivienne. I shouldn’t have…. This is all new to you and there is much for you to learn.” Her voice lowered and she added, “Much that I have to teach you both.”
Vivienne pushed away from the bed. She felt guilty about not being able to find Cassandre, but she also felt slightly psychotic for even trying to do it. Everything was so—confusing.
“I have to use the bathroom.” It popped out of her mouth. She wasn’t completely lying but what she really wanted was out of the room.
Evelyn’s smile was warm as she asked with motherly reproach, “Do you remember where it is?”
At any other time, Vivienne would have laughed and given a retort to the jab but she simply nodded.
She was at the door when Evelyn said, “Vivienne, this house is safe. I’ve spent years making it so. They will not be able to find you here, but if you leave….”
“I wasn’t going to leave,” she responded immediately. Despite learning about the not-so-human creatures, she’d never thought of leaving the house. Instinctively, she knew that she was safe here.
“Good. If you’re hungry, there’s food downstairs.”
Hungry? Vivienne shook her head. Even if she was hungry, she didn’t think she’d be able to hold anything down. The initial shock was gone but that did not mean that she was all peachy and ready to accept she was a druid, her mother was a witch, and the man she’d given herself to was some sort of creature.
When she didn’t move from the door for long seconds, her mother asked, “Did you want to ask something else, Vivienne?”
She wanted to say “no” and let ignorance be bliss but her lips moved and she found herself asking the question that had been in the back of her mind since she’d witnessed his transformation. “What is he?”
Evelyn was silent for a few moments, and although Vivienne’s back was to her, she could feel her mother’s tension.
“I don’t know what Max is. I thought he was human,” Evelyn replied, and though she struggled to keep her voice light, Vivienne heard the anger.
“Conall. What is Conall?” She’d forgotten—well, she hadn’t forgotten, but she’d placed that in the back of her memory behind Conall—that Max, too, had changed into something that wasn’t human. The one image dominating her mind had been Conall, with burning yellow eyes, lengthened canines, and black fur covering his body.
“Conall,” Evelyn repeated the name slowly, as if testing it on her tongue. “He is a werewolf. They can take three forms: human, hybrid, or their animal.”
Vivienne nodded slowly, and then thought in dry humor that her comparison of him to the wolfman hadn’t been so far from the truth. Except the wolfman wasn’t real, and Conall definitely was. Yes, dry humor sometimes sucked. “And the form I saw? That was a hybrid form?”
“Yes.”
She leaned forward and rested her head against the door. She’d slept with a werewolf.
Mated, a voice in her head corrected and Vivienne’s eyes widened as her body snapped upright.
What the hell was that?
“Vivienne, maybe you should sit down….”
That was her mother. She turned to face Evelyn, dimly recognizing that her mother was now standing, and looking as if at any moment she would approach her.
Vivienne held out her hand. “No—I mean—I’m fine.” Her voice shook with hysteria.
I’m fine. I’m just having a mental two-sided conversation with myself. In light of everything I’ve just learned, that’s not strange, right?
“I’m going—to—um—go.” She hastily left the room and made her way down the empty corridor to the bathroom. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it and closed her eyes.
I am not crazy. Doesn’t matter that there’s another voice in my head. Normal. Totally normal. I am not crazy….
If she told herself that enough times, she was eventually going to believe it. She didn’t know how long she spent in that position, but when she walked over to the sink and splashed water across her face, she felt m
ore like herself.
She grabbed a few tissues from the box and wiped her face dry before staring at her reflection in the mirror. She looked…bad. Really bad. Somewhere along the way, her hair had come undone and was wild about her head. Her eyes were puffy, her face pinched.
You’re not crazy and you’re exaggerating. You don’t look bad.
Vivienne spun, expecting to find someone standing in the bathroom with her. The voice was male, and sounded like Conall, but that wasn’t poss— Eyes narrowing, she concentrated on it.
Who are you?
You already know the answer to that question.
She scoffed and turned back to the mirror. Her mother always kept a few combs in the bathroom. Vivienne grabbed one, caught some water in her palm, and ran it through her hair. Slowly, she began combing through the tightly wound curls.
A bit smug, aren’t you?
His laugh confirmed he was Conall. The question that remained was: how the hell was he talking to her?
Why—no how—are you in my head?
You’re my mate, Vivienne.
He said that as if it explained everything.
She pulled her hair into a severe bun and then gripped the sides of the porcelain sink.
What does that even mean?
I’m bound to you as you are bound to me. I need you to survive as you need me. I am mentally connected to you…always, as you are to me.
Vivienne shook her head vehemently. He was obviously delusional. They’d had very, very good sex. Brilliant sex. She wasn’t even experienced and she knew for a fact that it was great sex.
A low, erotic growl came from the other person occupying her mind. She ignored it.
I’m not your mate, okay? I don’t know about werewolf law or non-human etiquette or whatever, but I didn’t agree to that, so—
Was he laughing? Her eyes narrowed to slits as low sounds of mirth invaded her mind.
Are you laughing? I’m serious. I am not your mate. We are not joined or bound or whatever, so it was nice knowing you—Vivienne felt a blush creeping up her neck at just how intimately she’d known him—but I’d really appreciate it if you got out of my head.
Silence. As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she waited for him to say something, and a feeling of disappointment swarmed her when he didn’t. She shrugged it off. He was listening to her, and leaving her alone. That was good.
She turned from the mirror and was about to pull open the bathroom door when an image flashed into her mind. It was a couple—a couple on a bed—amidst groans and screams. Was that her? Heat spread through her body when she recognized that it was. She was on all fours, demanding more of Conall as he thrust against her. Vivienne reached up and lightly touched her throat. She recognized she was seeing herself from his perspective and it was…affecting her.
“I will be the only one to have you, Vivienne. Only me. Do you accept me as your mate?” She remembered. Remembered him saying those words. She saw her back arch as she pushed back against him and nodded.
“Yes, yes. Only you. Please. Harder.” Vivienne was certain her face was the closest it could get to scarlet. It certainly felt like it was on fire. Everything was coming back to her in stark clarity. How she’d begged and pleaded, how much she’d wanted him, how huge he’d felt inside her….
There was a knock on the door and she jumped. The image faded.
What’s wrong? Conall asked instantly.
“Vivienne, is everything all right?” It was her mother.
“Yes. Fine.”
“Are you sure? You’ve been in there for a long time.”
“I—I’m fine,” she repeated. She wasn’t exactly going to tell her mother that Conall was inside of her head, showing her very raunchy images of the night they’d spent together.
Good. Stay where you are. You’re safe there.
“Get out of my head,” she hissed at Conall, sighing and gripping the edge of the sink.
Soon, he promised.
She didn’t have a lot of time to contemplate that. Mere seconds later, the ringing chime of the doorbell sounded. Evelyn moved away from the bathroom door, and Vivienne opened it to see her mother heading down the stairs. Vivienne’s eyes narrowed.
It couldn’t be—he wouldn’t.
Her feet moved forward, until she was at the top of the staircase and could see her mother standing before the double doors. Evelyn looked through the peephole before reaching for the door knob.
Yes, I would.
***
“My daughter would appreciate it if you got out of her head.” The voice was calm and even, the face blank. “Come in.”
Conall didn’t know exactly what to expect, but it hadn’t been that. He focused on the woman standing before him, recognizing the similarities that marked her as Vivienne’s mother. They had the same eyes, and facial features, but Vivienne’s height had to have come from her father because her mother was tiny. As if sensing he was thinking that, Evelyn drew herself up to her full height and stared him down. He got the message loud and clear. Height wasn’t everything. He lifted his gaze from her face and scanned the empty foyer behind her. Automatically, he listened for rapid breathing or shuffles that would indicate an ambush.
Amusement entered the woman’s eyes and she said coolly, “This is no trap, Conall Athelwulf.” She let that challenge hang in the air before turning to Max.
Her lips tightened ever so slightly and she stared at him just long enough for Conall to notice her dislike. Her attention returned to him briefly before she called over her shoulder. “Come inside, both of you. We have much to discuss.”
He followed her at a careful pace, eyes and ears alert. He could sense the underlying power of the house, and knew that whatever spells Evelyn had cast were powerful ones meant to keep, by any means necessary, intruders out. His nose picked up Vivienne’s scent the moment he entered, and searched her out as he continued scanning for threats.
A winding staircase was in the middle of the foyer, and standing at the top was his mate. He did a quick sweep of her body to confirm she was uninjured. Her mouth hung open in shock and she seemed to be grasping for words.
He came to a halt directly before the staircase, and grinned.
***
Vivienne cleared her throat, twice. She was staring directly at Conall, yet her brain refused to process that he was in her house. He was dressed differently from when last she’d last seen him, in gray sweat pants and a tight, white T-shirt. So much for her telling him to leave her alone.
How did he even know where she lived?
And then she saw Max. He, too, stopped by the staircase, and gave her an almost reassuring smile. Vivienne frowned. Max, the man who’d turned blue, was trying to reassure her? She briefly remembered her mother mentioning something…that the two of them were on their way to her, but…Why were they here?
I told you already, Vivienne. You are my mate and—
Stop saying that! All this talk of mates and werewolves and witches and vampires. Couldn’t they just give it a rest for a few minutes?
“Vivienne, won’t you come downstairs?” Evelyn asked gently, and then sensing Vivienne’s reluctance, smiled and added, “Whenever you’re ready. We’ll be in the living room.” The smile faded as she looked to Max and Conall. “Follow me.”
***
They entered a spacious living room equipped with a massive fireplace and comfortable-looking sofas and couches. Evelyn sat down on one of the couches. Conall watched her intently, wondering why she seemed so calm, so relaxed, given the situation. He had no doubt this woman knew of his connection to Vivienne. Max sat next, leaning forward slightly in his seat as if anticipating an intense conversation.
“Are you afraid of an old lady in an old house?” Evelyn asked, lifting her brow slightly.
A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of Conall’s lips. She was not old. In fact, she was more likely than not younger than he. Vivienne’s mother was goading him.
As soon a
s he sat down, she delved into the topics.
“You mated my daughter.” It wasn’t a question, so he didn’t give an answer. “Without my permission and I’m sure without the blessing of your Elders.”
Conall dipped his head and acknowledged the wrong. “Forgive me for not following protocol but I thought Vivienne was human.”
“Even if you’d known she wasn’t, you wouldn’t have asked permission,” Evelyn stated.
“No.” He was not going to lie. The only thing that would have stopped him from making Vivienne his own would have been death. Nothing short of a sharp, pointed object through his heart, or the removal of his head, would have done the trick.
Evelyn nodded once. Was that respect he saw in her eyes?
“What will you do if your Elders refuse you their blessings?”
“She is my mate. They will give their blessings,” Conall replied with a conviction he didn’t quite feel. He was the alpha, and he’d remained alpha over the past years through brute strength and keen intellect, but the Elders were the oldest wolves in the pack. While they’d hardly disagreed with him in the past years, they’d never experienced a situation like this before.
“You’ve marked her, but she is not yet your mate. Not in the true sense of the word.”
Conall barely suppressed the growl threatening to rise from him. He reminded the beast that Evelyn was not challenging his right to Vivienne. She was just being protective, as mothers usually were. “Vivienne is my mate in all senses of the word—”
“You don’t intend to complete the ceremony?” Evelyn’s voice was sharp, and full of reproach.
It wasn’t uncommon for a witch to know this much about the werewolf community but instinct told him that Evelyn was more familiar with it than normal. “There will be a ceremony, but I will keep my human form.” He referred to the mating ceremony, in which the entire pack would gather to witness the joining of their alphas.
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