Riktor

by Selena Illyria

  Everly resumed his pacing.

  Riktor’s willpower fractured. “For fuck’s sake, man, sit the hell down or leave.” A trace of the wolf came out in his voice, deepening the tenor and harshening the words.

  Everly followed Riktor’s order and dropped down into a visitor’s seat. “You shouldn’t be so hard on her. It’s her first year out of university. This is her first major job.”

  Riktor winced at Everly’s whiney tenor. “She’s lucky she’s not part of my pack or dealing with Ace. He’d have fired her by now. Of course he also wouldn’t have given her much to do beyond fetching coffee, booking hotels, and sorting out his various women.”

  Riktor still couldn’t fathom how his brother—the current beta of the pack—could juggle so many women and his job and not get his balls ripped off. But that was neither here nor there. Ace’s love life wasn’t his problem.

  “Anyway, her father hasn’t groomed her for the world of business. She’s his second in command, his heir and alpha-in-waiting. She’s ill-prepared, and I have no time to mentor her.” Riktor shuffled through the papers on his desk into neat little piles.

  “I’m sorry, I only know the law when it concerns packs. I have no idea how to run one,” Everly conceded. “Your father left you quite a burden.”

  Riktor snorted but didn’t say anything. He studied the data instead, trying to ignore Everly’s presence.

  Everly glanced at the slick wall of flat TV screens showing the security camera feeds across the resort. “Where is Ace? He said he’d be off-site this week.”

  Riktor continued to peruse the papers. “Change of plans. Not sure where he is.”

  Riktor knew where Ace was, but he didn’t feel like telling Everly that his brother was passed out in his suite or rooms, or that it wouldn’t be a good idea to wake him up after an all-night fuckfest. “Check Black Howl.”

  Riktor glanced up. Everly blanched. He’d been pale to start with. Now he was just ghostly.

  What the fuck is up with him? Never mind. Riktor turned his attention back to the numbers. “Why all this interest in us now?”

  Amber returned with a thick sheaf of files. “Here you go, sir. All the figures for BH should be there.” She placed them on the desk and took a step back, her features placid. Riktor took note of the change and approved. As a young werewolf, she needed to learn how to school her face.

  Riktor flipped through the folders. “Fine. Thank you. You can go.”

  Amber started toward the door. She paused next to Everly. “Would you like some coffee or tea or water?”

  Riktor wished she hadn’t asked. He didn’t want Everly staying any longer than need be. Riktor had things to do.

  “Just water please,” Everly responded.

  Amber nodded and left the room.

  Everly cleared his throat. “I’m just here to check in on you.” His seat creaked.

  Riktor’s bullshit meter went off the charts. The wolf reared up and slammed into the barrier. Riktor took a few seconds before he responded. It took all his willpower to not shift and rip out Everly’s throat or force him to tell the truth.

  “Right. Let’s speed up this meeting, shall we? No, we haven’t found mates. No, we haven’t gotten married. It’s only been a month for Artemis’s sake. There’s your update if that’s what you were after. I have a full night of accounting ahead of me, so I’ll see you later.” Riktor dismissed him. Everly could get his glass of water outside.

  “I see that. You know, Riktor, your father had the best intentions in mind when he made that decision,” Everly insisted.

  Riktor snorted but didn’t take the bait. “Growing up a Brody is very different than being friends with or working for a Brody.”

  “You’ll understand once you’ve found your mate, I promise.” Everly stood. “Well, I have to go check in on Banan. He is in, isn’t he?”

  Riktor didn’t even glance up. “Should be. Check his room, and if not, there’s the tech hub. Good-bye.”

  “I’ll be around for a few days. I’ll see you later.” Everly left the room.

  Not likely. Riktor exhaled. He didn’t mean to be rude, but it wasn’t Everly who was the new alpha of their little three-person pack. For years his father had groomed him to be an alpha who could provide financial security for himself and his brothers.

  Maxwell Brody had ruined all Riktor’s possible relationships to focus on the family’s resort, and now the old man, dead and buried, wanted him to focus on a wife and children? And he wanted to take the family business away from Riktor if he didn’t produce? Bullshit.

  Riktor didn’t even know where to start. Did he go to a shifter matchmaker? Ace had suggested going with fortune hunter brides. The will had said they needed to get married, not that they had to be in love. Riktor wasn’t even sure he believed in love, much less mates.

  He could deal with things if they were a business arrangement. Meet the right woman, get married and a divorce after maybe in a year or two—pay her a million dollars for her trouble. No children. Neat and tidy. Well, so long as Ace came through for them. Everly would sign off, right?

  He just had one big worry: Mickey Shaw.

  But first things first, payroll and taxes.

  He buried himself in data until his head throbbed and his vision blurred. What time was it? He stifled a yawn and checked the clock over the door. Five-fifty five. His stomach rumbled. Time for a break. He was lucky he hadn’t shifted or passed out. Werewolves needed regular meals and snacks throughout the day to keep the animal sated and their energy up. He’d skipped lunch to get the staff and bills paid. Time to chow down, check in on Ace and Ban, and see what the front desk had to say about Everly’s little jaunt to their island.

  He put all the reports and records into one pile and the taxes into another, pushed back his chair, and stood up. His body pinged along his back, legs, and shoulders. He groaned. If he kept up this pace, he would be broken by the end of the month. No good to anyone.

  Ace had his own business to run, and Ban would rather sit behind his computers or read his books and graphic novels than take meetings, interact with people, and be out in the open. So it was all Riktor. If only he had help.

  The old man’s voice filled his head. “They’ll just take a percentage of the profits instead of you getting the bigger share. Don’t even trust your brothers. They’re not cut out for this type of work.”

  Pure bullshit, in Riktor’s opinion. His brothers were his real family, and he knew he could trust them with all things, including his life and his secrets. He just wished he could find someone to help that he could depend on.

  Riktor wished he could just shift and run for a while, but he still had so much to do. He hadn’t even had time to check in at the Black Howl. Ace had made a few changes and added some new rooms. Black Howl was the thing he was most proud of. This was their stamp. Their personalities, ideas, money had all been poured into the venture. Something all their own, and he refused to let anyone, least of all Mickey Shaw, take it from him and his brothers.

  Riktor left the office and walked down the hall, pausing to let Amber know that payroll was ready.

  “Yes, Alpha. I’ll get them and submit them.” She got up from her desk and hurried into his office.

  Riktor walked out of his area, bypassing various offices, conference rooms, and areas set up to meet with clients for the first time.

  “Sir.” Amber rushed up from behind him. “I just got a call from Incandescence Lingerie. They are sending a representative to the resort next month and want a meeting to go over the final arrangements.”

  Riktor paused and mentally went through his schedule. “First Friday of the month at ten o’clock in the morning, that’s the only time I have open.”

  “I’ll check with them and get back to you.” Amber spun on her heel and rushed away.

  Riktor shook his head. She needed to settle down.

  He continued on down the hall, passing the hallway leading to the private bank of elevators for t
he family’s use. Riktor came out into the lobby, next to the front desk.

  “Mr. Riktor, everything is running smoothly,” Harris, the concierge, reported. “We have ten new guests.”

  Riktor nodded. “Good. Where did you put Everly?”

  Harris tapped a few keys. “In his usual suite of rooms. I also put his guest, at his request, in a queen suite.”

  Riktor stared at Harris. “Everly brought a guest? A woman?”

  Harris gazed up at him, concern in his dark brown eyes. His lips curved into a frown. “Was I not supposed to book her in? Should I have informed you as soon as he arrived with his companion?”

  Curiosity piqued, Riktor moved closer to Harris but didn’t peek at the computer. “No. What name did he give for his companion?”

  Riktor’s stomach clenched. Could it be? Had he brought a bride for one of the brothers just to spring it on them as a surprise?

  Harris tapped a few keys. “Just Ms. Shaw. That’s all.” Harris’s gaze moved to something at the elevator area. “There.” He tilted his head toward a woman. “That’s her, sir.”

  All the Shaw daughters were married off. Was this an unmarried cousin? Riktor glanced at the spot where the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen strode toward the dining area. Even his werewolf took notice. Her deep red dress hugged curves and complemented the rich, chocolate tone of her skin. The fabric molded around her but didn’t expose her cleavage. Her high heels made her legs look long. Her dark brown hair surrounded her classically beautifully face. She oozed sexiness and confidence with the sway and roll of her hips. The movement lulled him to move closer. His cock responded.

  His wolf sniffed the air. The animal sifted through the pungent aromas of chlorine, perfumes, sweat, colognes, BO, aftershave, and soaps to find hers. Even with the wide expanse of the lobby between them, he could smell a faint trace of some exotic, expensive perfume that only enhanced his slow rising arousal. He had to know more about her and what she was doing here and with Everly.

  “Thanks, Harris,” he muttered and strode across the lobby and up the stairs toward the casual restaurant she’d disappeared into.

  He stopped short at the maitre d’ station and shook his head, confused by his need to follow this woman he’d never met. Yes, she was gorgeous—physically at least—but she was a Shaw, and she was with Everly. He needed to assess the situation.

  The headwaiter, Jordan, returned to the station. “Mr. Brody, your usual table is open. Shall I seat you now?”

  “Yes, please.” The patio should be far enough to get his thoughts together and observe this possible threat.

  He scanned the room for the woman and spotted her at a booth, studying a menu. His wolf nature rushed to the forefront of his mind, urging him toward her. Riktor refused to be guided by his lycan half. Instead, he followed Jordan across the room and out the glass entryway and onto the patio. The late afternoon sunshine flooded over him, warming his body. His wolf growled at being so far away from the woman. Riktor ignored it. He settled down at a table close to the railing with a fantastic view of the pool, gardens, and beyond that the sea, but still within sight of the Shaw woman.

  He inhaled the briny air infused with verdant, earthy and sweet florals mixed in. In the distance, he heard the sea pounding the shore. Under normal circumstances, he would feel Zen. Instead, energy buzzed up and down his arms and legs and swirled around his gut. His wolf wanted to re-enter the building, sit down at her table, and just gaze at her. The weirdo.

  While Jordan read him the specials, Riktor retrieved his cell phone and checked his text messages.

  “Jordan, I’ll just have a filet minion with steak fries and a side of asparagus with herb butter and a sparkling water. Extra fries. Tell Callie, I’m not on a fucking diet, and I don’t need to eat better.” Riktor rolled his eyes.

  Callie, the brothers’ pseudo-mother growing up, had been given the kitchens and dining room to run upon his father’s death. She insisted that despite being werewolves, the boys needed more veggies. Only Banan seemed interested in eating better. If it wasn’t in a smoothie, Ace would be a full-time carnivore with steak every day. Riktor at least tried to eat well. Tried.

  Jordan returned with his water.

  “Any of Callie’s famous boozy bourbon pecan pie left over?” He prayed that she’d gone out of her way to make him some. It would be such a stress reliever.

  Jordan grinned. “She saved you guys a full pie.”

  Riktor grinned and shook his head. “Correct that statement.”

  Jordan chuckled. “I’ll send the pie to your office along with a fork. And I won’t tell Banan.”

  “Thanks.” Riktor returned his focus to his phone and checked his messages and emails. Nothing new. His cell began to vibrate. “Hello?”

  “Got some news you’ll want to hear. Need to get in a lap around the indoor pool first.” Ace hung up without giving Riktor a chance to ask questions or even say good-bye.

  Riktor shut off his phone and replaced it in his pocket. If he kept it out, he’d be tempted to check it every few seconds or misuse his authority to find out more about that mystery woman.

  He shut his eyes and tried to relax, but his wolf refused to let him forget that woman. Riktor opened one eye and peeked in the woman’s direction. With his keen vision, he could see that she’d ordered a tall stack of pancakes and a cappuccino.

  His wolf whined for a whole new reason. Riktor didn’t see a separate plate for bacon, much to his disappointment.

  He watched while she said a few things to Jordan, who nodded and headed toward the kitchen area. Jordan returned with a tray. He removed the dome to reveal a plate piled high with thick slices of bacon.

  Good for her.

  Riktor’s stomach grumbled, reminding him of his stupidity. He licked his lips, ready to dig into his meal. Eventually he’d stop panicking and settle down enough to remember to eat all of his meals and snacks.

  He ignored the tension to focus on Jordan and the steak. Despite the closed cover, Riktor could smell the faintest hint of a medium-rare steak, cooked to perfection.

  Jordan stopped in front of the table. “Callie set aside half a pie for you. Said you’d get the other half when you finished your asparagus.” Jordan placed Riktor’s order on the table.

  Riktor sighed. “Remind her that I sign her checks, but tell her I’ll eat the veggies. Thank her for me please.”

  Jordan bobbed his head. “Will do.” He turned on his heel and left.

  Riktor cut up his steak, proud that he hadn’t asked Jordan about the mysterious Shaw woman. An alpha had to have perfect control, and he was exercising that control over himself right now. He speared a piece of meat and put it in his mouth. The cut melted on his tongue. It hardly needed to be chewed. So soft, the spices were simple and perfect. He groaned and repeated the process until he’d finished off the steak, followed by the vegetable, leaving the steak fries for last. Once done, he signaled Jordan.

  “I’ll eat the pie in my office. Time to get back to work.” Riktor vowed to check into Black Howl for a beer later. The mystery woman, he’d learn more about later. Maybe ask Ace, who hadn’t called him back, about her. The more he knew about the curvy beauty, the better prepared he’d be.

  His wolf, on the other hand, didn’t care who she was. It just wanted to get to know her better.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Mickey tried not to stare when Riktor strode across the dining room and out the double doors to the patio. Her wolf sat up and panted. Heat flooded her body. Pheromones swirled around her. A flush filled her face, neck, and chest. She blinked and shook her head.

  “Shit! Stop that,” she ordered her wolf.

  The damn wolf ignored her.

  Fire continued to pump through her veins. Her pussy contracted, and her panties dampened. The heat increased. Sweat pearled on her upper lip and at her hairline. She swallowed. I need to calm the hell down.

  Mickey reached out and picked up her coffee mug and took a healthy sip. Bitt
erness, sweetness, creaminess with a hint of something extra rushed over her taste buds. She focused on the taste, the warmth of the liquid, and the coolness of the whipped cream that stuck to her upper lip.

  She giggled. It had been awhile since she’d indulged in whipped cream on anything other than ice cream. The childish joy that filled her drove away some of her arousal and calmed her down a bit.

  Mickey took another sip of her coffee until the sensation died down. Only a hint of her pheromones continued to waft around her booth, but not enough to draw any horny werewolves on the prowl for a temporary mate. She had not come here for a quick fuck. If she were honest with herself, she didn’t really know why she’d come here in the first place. This was enemy territory, after all. The Brodys wouldn’t welcome her with open arms and an understanding mindset. She had no desire to tangle with Riktor. She took her time with her meal, savoring every bite. Her pancakes were light, fluffy, and buttery. The bacon was cooked just right for her taste—not too crispy.

  Her waiter returned. “Is everything to your liking? I’ve sent the gift basket up to your room.”

  “Thank you so much. Everything was just perfect.” She pushed away her plate and sat back to sip the last of her coffee.

  Her attention returned to Riktor sitting outside. With her keen eyesight, she saw a large T-Bone steak, fries, and asparagus. His body language was relaxed and open but with just a hint of tension. Since he was distracted by his meal, she took this time to study him.

  His thick, wavy dark hair had been combed back, but a few strands graced his forehead, long enough to grab during an intense oral sex session. Her fingertips tingled with the desire to feel if those tresses were soft or stiff with product. Riktor’s dark blue eyes, framed by sooty eyelashes, seemed more intense than his picture let on. What would it feel like to have that stare settle on her?

  As if hearing her thoughts, he glanced in her direction.

  She shivered. Her nipples pebbled, and her gut tightened in response.