Princess of the Pack (Shifting the Tale Book 1)

by Haven Handel

  “It’s embarrassing. To be chastised by Draco when I know you are already going to spank me. Why both?”

  “You disobeyed us both. You will be taught to obey Draco as you will obey myself.”

  “Please tell me he isn’t going to watch me being spanked.”

  “Do you really think I would ever let anyone see private areas of my wife that were created for my eyes alone? I could barely tolerate it had he swatted your behind, though, I dare say, you deserve it—regularly.”

  Tears were sliding down her cheeks. My heartstrings tugged for her shame, but there was no other way. I would not sacrifice Cassandra’s life for the mere fact that the discipline made her uncomfortable.

  I loved my wife. I cherished my little girl. But when my baby put herself in danger, it was easy for me to harden my heart and carry out the punishment. I loved her too much to allow her to risk her life without there being harsh consequences.

  “You will be punished thoroughly. Then I will bring you to your room. Aunt Margaret shall bring you dinner, and you will eat alone. You will be put to bed, to sleep on your tummy. If you wake with even the slightest tone of defiance, the entire process will be repeated. Am I making myself clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Grabbing Cassandra’s hand, I tugged her into the castle. I led her down the back steps, the same ones she had snuck down barefooted, in her nightgown, the night she’d spoken with Artem.

  Reaching the library, I opened the door. Draco stood before the fire, his gaze dark, his hands locked behind his back. The olive shirt and trousers he wore gave him an air of military authority.

  Guiding a reluctant and silent Cassandra into the room, I sat in one of the winged back chairs. Cassandra joined Draco by the fire.

  Deo’s gaze remained locked on Cassandra, his eyes burning into hers. She looked to the floor, her toes turning inward. I almost wished for a glass of my scotch to enjoy with the show.

  “I rarely lose my patience, Cassandra,” Draco began, his voice so low it sounded dangerous, even to myself. “You were told, ‘stay put’.” Growing agitated, Draco began to pace, running his hands through his hair, standing it on end. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”

  “I just wanted to see,” Cassandra whispered, sadly.

  Draco’s face snapped up, glaring at Cassandra. “See what?”

  “You and Deo, shift, into wolves,” she said, peering up at him.

  Visibly calmed by her tiny confession, Draco softened his stance. When he spoke again, his tone was more lenient. “That is a reasonable request, no doubt, but could you not have come to us directly and asked? Why leave the castle walls? When we directly demanded that you not?”

  “I just wanted to see.”

  “Cassandra, I cannot allow you to put yourself in harm’s way. That is why I came to Deo. You need to be taken in hand if you really believe you are free to do as you please. To treat your personal safety with no regard as you did.”

  “I understand.”

  Taking a step towards her, his eyes hard, Draco said, “Promise me you will not go outside of these walls again without Deo or I.”

  “Yes,” she murmured.

  Closing in, his face next to hers, Draco demanded. “I cannot hear you. Speak clearly.”

  “I promise, Draco,” Cassandra said warily, tears glistening in her eyes.

  Draco’s face relaxed. “Do not let this be a promise that you break.” Leaning in, he placed a chaste kiss on the top of her head. Giving me a swift nod, Draco left the room, the latch clicking behind him.

  Gesturing towards the open chair beside me, I turned to her, asking, “How shall I punish you?”

  Face flushed from her chastisement, I was surprised when Cassandra’s eyes sparkled, excitedly. “Oh, Deo, not yet. Can we talk about what I saw, first?” she asked, her wide smile spreading across her charming face. She took a seat in the chair.

  “Tell me, Cassandra, did you enjoy it?” I asked, hiding a smile as her face became childlike in her excitement.

  Her eyes alight, she answered, breathlessly, “Oh, yes, it was magnificent. The way you both rose above the ground, I had to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming. And then, how you spun around one another, faster and faster”—she spoke without pausing for breath—“and the iridescent colors—they were gorgeous. Those colors. I’ve never seen anything like it. When the colors became a hazy cloud, I couldn’t see anything. Then what felt like ages later, though I am sure it was only minutes, the smoke cleared and there you stood, as wolves. I inched forward to get a closer look, and that was when I saw that your belts were wrapped from your necks around your chests like some kind of sash. It was nothing as I had imagined.”

  “The belts were purchased decades ago by my family and passed down through generations. We all have certain powers, but without the belts, we are unable to transform.” Curious as I had never spoken to a mortal who had seen me transform, I asked, “Could you tell which one was me?”

  Looking straight into my eyes, Cassandra gave me a confident, “Yes. You were the black one.” Reaching out and stroking my hair, she said, “Your fur was jet black, almost blue, and the way it shone. And you were slightly bigger and broader than Draco, though you were both huge. Much bigger than any wolf I’ve seen before. His coat was a chocolaty brown, like his hair, but with an otherworldly sheen to it. It was almost like a magenta that turned to green as he moved. But beyond that, when you started to trot to the woods, I was sure it was you, just by the way you carried yourself. You had that same air of authority. It was breathtaking to see. I wanted to follow you as you disappeared into the woods—to touch you.” She looked down at her boots, as she quieted. “That was when Andrew found me and dragged me back to the castle.”

  “And I am glad that he did, naughty girl.” Reaching across the small space between us, I took her chin in my fingertips, tilting it, returning her gaze to me.

  A flush rose into her cheeks. Not quite ready to end our conversation, or stalling her inevitable punishment, she asked, “Deo, what were those colors?”

  Releasing her face, I answered, “Our auras.”

  The light back in her eyes, she began, “Is that what they are called? Draco’s was orange, but not bright like the fruit, more like the sunset.” She talked excitedly, waving her hands as she spoke. “And yours, Deo, it was the most beautiful red I have ever seen. So fiery, so—powerful.”

  “My aura is red. It’s energy, strength, passion, anger, sexuality, ego. Draco’s, as you can probably guess, is self-control, ambition, courage.”

  “I wonder what mine is,” she whispered to herself.

  “Violet.”

  “How do you know?” She squinted at me curiously.

  “Draco, Baal and I saw it.”

  Her eyes widened in awe. “When?”

  “During knife play. When you throw the blade.”

  “Why then? And why yours when you…” she looked at me, finally at a loss for words.

  “Transformed? Shifted? We don’t really have a word for it.”

  “Shifted. Why did the aura come when you and Draco shifted, and when I was throwing the blade?”

  “An aura shows itself when your physical body and your mind become one. Most of us spend our lives, our mind and body separated by lifestyle, thought, our daily lives. Tell me, Cassandra, when you threw the blade, what were your thoughts?”

  Brow furrowed, she thought over my question. A moment later, looking perplexed, she said, “I didn’t seem to have any.”

  “Which is quite unusual for you, no?” I asked with a chuckle. My wife’s brain ran at full speed. From the habit she had of murmuring through the night, I doubted it even slowed down when she was asleep.

  “That almost never happens. Well, except for when we are… together.” Her eyes shyly met mine.

  I reached out, running my fingertips over her soft cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “As it does for me, sweetheart. Recently more than ever.�
��

  “What does my aura mean?” she asked. Her face looked apprehensive, as if afraid to hear the truth about herself.

  “Spirit, wisdom, intuition.” Just some of my wife’s strengths that had caused me to fall so hard in love with her. “Those traits have served you well in this life. You have taken it all in stride.”

  “I’ve found that I love it here. I feel as if I almost belong here more than I do in a courtroom. But I miss the house. Especially since you and I have stopped fighting. I can’t remember what it feels like to be in our home, together, happy.” Her brown eyes looked to mine.

  “We will be back. We will go home, together, when this is all over, baby. You have my word.” I had to keep my promise to Cassandra. I had to protect her, and I had to take her home. But first, there were tasks at hand.

  “And our new way of marriage will go with us,” I said, standing and taking a step closer to her. “You will be taken in hand, and no longer will we fight.” I grabbed her hand in mine.” Her bright eyes widened.

  “I believe it is time you were punished.”

  “I have so many more questions,” she said, breathlessly. I raised one brow to her. “Tell me, what does it feel like to be a wolf?” she asked quietly.

  One glance at my face told her that our conversation was over.

  Swallowing loudly, her eyes cut nervously away from mine. I pulled her from her chair before releasing her hand. “I can’t believe I am punishing you so soon after your last spanking,” I mused. Although, with Cassandra, it was quite believable. “Am I not punishing you hard enough? Is that why you require such frequent attention?” I asked, enjoying the pink that my words brought to her cheeks.

  Hands behind her back, she stood shyly before me, eyeing the chair next to us. “No,” she whispered.

  Taking her face in my hands, I forced her gaze to meet mine. “Why then?”

  She shrugged, her arms hanging limply by her side as I continued to hold her face. “I guess I’m just… naughty,” she answered, honestly.

  Chuckling, I released my hold on her. “That you are, my lovely. And what happens to naughty girls?”

  “They get spanked,” she answered.

  “Yes, that’s right. But today, a spanking will not suffice, I’m afraid. You need something to remind you of your requirement of obedience.” I walked a slow circle around my anxious wife. “You have been quite defiant. Haven’t you, little one.” I stopped when I reached Cassandra’s back. Facing her dark hair, I had a full view of her beautiful behind. “Now, answer my question. How. Should. You”—I ran my fingers lightly over her bottom—“be punished?” I asked, pinching her bottom.

  A delicious shiver ran down her spine. A sight for my sore eyes.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  “Then I guess I am left to my own devices.” I ran my fingertips over the curve of her bottom. “You will be thoroughly spanked.” I paused, pinching the sensitive skin of her rear between my thumb and forefinger. “Then you will be taken to the kitchen.”

  “For what?” she asked.

  “I believe instead of straight to bed and dinner in your room, you would best learn obedience at the hands of Margaret. You will help her serve dinner.”

  “No,” Cassandra groaned, glimpsing over her shoulder at me. Her eyes pleaded with me. “She hates me.”

  “Turn around,” I growled. She quickly turned back, facing away from me. “Margaret does not hate you,” I added, more softly.

  “She does,” Cassandra protested quietly.

  “Are you contradicting me, young lady?” I grabbed her bottom hard in my hands.

  Rising to her tiptoes, Cassandra quickly answered, “No!”

  “Good. Now bend yourself over the arm of that chair.”

  Facing the chair, Cassandra shot a pleading look at me, to which I replied, “If you didn’t want to be thrashed, you shouldn’t have left the castle wall.”

  Her eyes cut from mine as she arranged her lean body over the arm of the chair. Her dark hair cascaded around her as she leaned her upper body on her elbows and forearms on the seat cushion of the chair.

  Removing my belt, I watched as she flinched as the sound of the leather leaving the loops. Folding the strap in half, I brought it high in the air, then down, across the seat of her pants.

  Cassandra cried out but remained in position.

  “Good girl,” I murmured, the belt coming down again with a loud smack, her hips moving side to side directly after the impact.

  “How many more, baby girl?”

  Whimpering, Cassandra replied, “Please, Deo. I will never—”

  Smack. I brought the belt down, marking her words as well as her bottom.

  “Deo, I promise I will not leave the castle wall,” she pleaded. I could hear tears stinging her voice.

  I brought the belt down two more times. Cassandra was up on the tips of her toes, gasping.

  You may think me a monster, but rarely can I tolerate bringing Cassandra pain. “You took those well, little one. Shall we switch to my hand?”

  “Yes, please,” she begged, staying in position.

  “You may get up.”

  Cassandra stood, hair everywhere, jumping from foot to foot and dabbing at her eyes, looking pitiful.

  Not to be distracted by her charms, I walked around her, seating myself in the still warm chair.

  Cassandra came and stood before me, leaning her thighs against my knees. I grabbed both of her hands.

  “Darling. It pains me to hurt you but, without the punishment, I can’t be sure you will obey. With a good, proper spanking, I know you will think twice the next time you are faced with the temptation to cross the wall. Am I correct in my thinking?”

  Knowing her answer would solidify the sorry state of her already sore behind, she paused a moment before nodding.

  “Words, Cassandra.”

  Unable to meet my eyes, she gazed at her turned in toes, whispering, “Yes, sir.”

  “Let’s take these pants down, shall we?” Grasping the elastic waist, I pulled the black stretch pants down. Cassandra took a sharp intake of breath as I did. My eyes roved over her bareness, my throat tightening as I said, “Over my lap, baby girl.”

  Giving me one last pitiful look, Cassandra moaned as she bent over my spread thighs. Red stripes ran across her bottom. I did not want to add to the redness that was already there, but I knew I had to. There was no other way to care for my special angel than the way only I knew worked so very well.

  Chapter Eight

  I sensed him before I saw him. Xander had returned.

  The scent of wolf still fresh on him, Xander burst into the dining room. Baal and Draco exchanged quick glances with one another, then as one unit, rose from their seats, coming to the end of the table, flanking me, one on each side.

  Xander’s eyes were wild as he sat in Draco’s recently vacated chair.

  “Leave us,” I commanded, with a wave of my hand in the air, my eyes never leaving Xander. I watched as he looked to the group, willing them to move faster.

  Cassandra, Cynthia and Andrew warily made their way from the room, escorted by Alekos. Dolly and Artem remained in their seats, casually finishing their dinner.

  Alekos passed by with his entourage, the humans eyeing us wearily. “Come,” he said, his tone light, “let us go to the upper courtyard and practice those taekwondo moves Andrew taught us. A smile spread across Alekos’ face, but it did not reach his eyes as he shot me a worried glance.

  When the room had cleared, Xander leaned in towards me. His bright blue eyes were resolute as he spoke, his youthful face animated. “They are coming, Deo,” he whispered in a hushed voice. “Now. It is nothing—nothing—as we have planned. This is a surprise attack. We have been outwitted.”

  “Now, as in when, Xander?” Dolly asked impatiently in her thick drawl.

  “Now, as in tonight. They are on the way. I thought I was trailing them over the hill, but they rode in police cruisers. I couldn’t de
tect the scent behind the metal.”

  “Why now?” I asked.

  Xander’s ice blue eyes focused on mine. His voice was calm, but he spoke urgently. “Tonight, is the Wolf Moon.”

  Dolly said, “Now, who on Earth made up that?”

  Xander replied, “Full moon names date back to the Native Americans, of what is now the northern and eastern United States. The tribes kept track of the seasons by giving distinctive names to each recurring full moon. Their names were applied to the entire month in which each occurred. There was some variation in the moon names, but, in general, the same ones were current throughout the Algonquin tribes from New England to Lake Superior. Since the lunar month is only twenty-nine days long on the average, the full moon dates shift from year to year.”

  “And this January there are two full moons,” Dolly mused.

  “Yes,” Xander offered her a tight smile. “The first, tonight, is the Full Wolf Moon. Amid the cold and deep snows of midwinter, the wolf packs howled hungrily outside Indian villages. Thus, the name for January’s full moon. The next will fall at the end of January. That will be the Blue Moon.”

  “They are taunting us,” Artem growled. “The Wolf Moon,” he scoffed.

  “I put the pieces together as I drove home,” Xander said.

  I murmured, “How long do we have?”

  “It is now dusk. I suspect they will wait until the moon is high in the sky for dramatic effect. As soon as I figured out what was happening, I got a car and flew up here.”

  “How many?” Artem mused.

  “I’m not sure; the windows were tinted, and they were moving so fast. Fifteen, maybe twenty?”

  Baal let out a low whistle. “They’ve never gathered as many at once, before.”

  “We’ve never broken a vow, before,” Artem said, looking directly at me. “We have only fought them of our own accord.”

  I stood from the table. “It is time.”

  Dolly, Baal, Draco, Xander, and finally Artem, stood to join me. Prepared or not, tonight we battled.

  ***

  We stood, one beside the other, ten strong. The air was cold in my lungs as I took a deep breath. Outside the entrance to the castle, my pack, my family, my wife and her friends waited. The Wolf Moon was indeed full and round, glowing a pale yellow. The moonlight shone down on the ground, lighting our battlefield. The wail of police sirens could be heard, climbing up the mountain.