Her mate who couldn’t give her the bite because he was some kind of aberration, too.
He seemed like a good man.
But she wondered how long his goodness could hold out against the darkness. Against the curse that eventually devoured them all.
A voice whispered in the back of her head that maybe it wouldn’t devour him. Maybe he’d be the one to break it.
Such foolish hope after all of these years. Victoria knew breaking the curse was as likely as her sprouting pink wings and turning into a sugar fairy.
Victoria yawned and stretched, her growling stomach unwilling to be ignored in favor of higher thought.
His eyes snapped open and he was intent on her every move.
“Are you okay?”
She was always okay. It was the pack she had to worry about. In the past years, as her father’s madness claimed ever more of his heart and soul, she’d become acting Alpha in his stead, caring for the more earthly needs of the pack. “Have you released the others?”
“The ones who were underground? No. Your tonic, do you have more?”
“I only have enough to last the year if we use it sparingly.”
“Open the stores. Give everyone whatever they need.”
Shame flooded her. Her father had spent all of the pack’s income on the crazy partnership with Breslin. “I’ll show you the ledgers after we release everyone. We can’t afford it. You’ve inherited an asset poor pack.”
“Good thing that I’m not asset poor, then, isn’t it? What belongs to the pack belongs to me. And what belongs to me belongs to the pack. Your special tonic— order as much as you need. I don’t want anyone to suffer.”
“Are you for real?” He had to be a figment of her imagination. Her psyche had finally broken because Alphas weren’t like this. They were hard, cold, and distant. This guy was anything but those things.
He cocked his head to the side and she could see the predator beneath his skin. He didn’t hide it from her, but it seemed to be something he’d made his peace with. They co-existed. Something that she’d always thought was a story that werewolves told themselves so they could sleep at night. The lie they all believed because they had to, but here it was in the flesh.
In the delicious flesh.
She couldn’t think about that right now. She had to know if what she’d seen, what she remembered from when she transformed was real.
If his teeth were really silver.
My bite will kill you.
She shivered. As perverse as it sounded, she liked that. Victoria liked that he could hurt her because that meant she couldn’t hurt him. She’d never known what that was like, to spend time with a person and not wonder if she was going to rip their throat out.
Victoria pulled back the covers and realized she was naked.
She could feel the heat of a flush staining her cheeks. Which was stupid. They were wolves. Being naked in any of their forms was normal, and barring that, it happened all the time. But she wondered what he thought of her.
Of her body.
Victoria exhaled and finished throwing the covers off. It didn’t matter what he thought of her body, if they were mated. He’d want her no matter what.
Or so that’s what she’d been told of it.
This one true mate stuff wasn’t something that happened to the Ardennes pack members. They were on their own to choose their mates.
Usually.
Except, it had been different with him.
Secretly, Victoria always thought that was kind of romantic. Just looking at another creature and knowing they would be your everything and you would be theirs. Of course now that it had happened to her, it wasn’t romantic at all. It was ridiculous. It was impossible.
It was a damn mess.
She strode over to her closet and he didn’t even look at her.
What the hell was wrong with her? First she didn’t want him to look, now she was offended that he hadn’t. It was the full moon. It made her crazy.
Absolutely crazy.
Her beast bristled under her skin, clawing forward, it too wanting another taste of Armand Ardennes. It strained, stretching her skin, tearing at her muscle and cracking her bones. She doubled over in pain, holding her mid-section.
He was on his feet in an instant, all of his attention on her. “What’s wrong?”
“My beast likes you. More than it should.” She focused on control, on locking it down, caging it. How she wished it could just run free. No more cages, no more denial. No more pain. The beast promised to end all of that, but she knew it was a lie.
His hands were hot and strong on her skin as he stroked down her back, soothed her, and led her back to the bed. He spoke softly in her ear and her beast was soothed—no, not soothed exactly. Content to be petted, perhaps, was a better description.
“We have to get the others. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” he eyed her.
“I’m sure. The last thing I want to do is hurt someone who doesn’t have it coming.” She wanted him to touch her again. She wanted to be wild and free, arching beneath him under the moon. Visions of that very thing assaulted her senses and if he could scent her desire, he was gentleman enough not to mention it. Victoria needed to put some space between them. “Hand me my jeans and t-shirt, will you?”
He tossed her favorite jeans at her and a thin, soft t-shirt, as well as a pair of panties and a bra. She liked that he picked the panties and bra that were her most comfortable, not her most lacy. It was these little things that made her think that maybe he really could value the pack above his own needs and wants.
She struggled into her clothes, but didn’t bother to wear shoes. Feeling the bare earth beneath her feet helped her to stay grounded.
“Tell me about Luc.”
“Are you sure you want to hear it?”
Victoria exhaled heavily. “He hasn’t been my father in a long time. I told you, this curse… it changed him. The only reason he didn’t put me down years ago is because I’m his Beta and I supported his campaign.” She shook her head slowly. “At first, I thought it was just what I had to do to get by. To stay alive, but as I see the consequences of what living like this has done, and the possibility of an epidemic, I’m starting to think he was right. So yes, I want to hear it.” She looked up and met his eyes. “I need to hear it.”
She was more upset that she wasn’t upset—the place where her grief should’ve been was a vast, empty cavern. Victoria wondered if that was the Curse devouring the last of her humanity. Emotions were the first to be leached away and it was a slow burn until there was nothing left but a hungry beast—a thing that no matter how much it destroyed, how much it consumed, it would never be sated.
“What do you want to know?”
Armand’s eyes flashed silver and if she hadn’t seen it before, she would’ve wondered if it was real. She found herself intrigued—as was her beast. He seemed to have more feelings about Luc’s death than she did.
Her time was running out.
“You challenged him to single combat?”
“Yes.”
Every word from him was like a confession. Did he want absolution from her? She couldn’t give that to him because she couldn’t give it to herself. She studied him for a long moment. No, maybe it wasn’t absolution. Victoria had no doubt that if given the choice he would do it again—challenge Luc—and take the consequences that came with the act. Yet still, it felt like he wanted something from her. She just didn’t know what it was.
“And did he Change?”
“No. He fought me with silver knives. He never dropped his human skin.”
“That gives me comfort.” Victoria nodded.
“How?” His eyes were dark again, but so deep and full, like eternity pools.
“To know that he had a choice. That the Curse didn’t take that from him too in the end. When it’s my turn, I hope you’ll give me the same mercy.”
The tension in the room changed and
it was suddenly hard to breathe and his presence was a heavy weight. “I will break this curse.”
His commitment and almost youthful determination made her melancholy. “Don’t you think I’ve been saying that since I knew what the Curse was? Since my first Change? Since the first time I saw what it did to my pack? And those innocents who wandered into our path?”
“You are not an Ardennes witch.”
“Neither are you.”
“No, but my mother was. And her magic runs in my veins.”
That empty cavern, the dark place inside of her where she’d mourned the lack of feeling— it was full. “Don’t give me hope. Don’t do that. It hurts too much.”
“And what are we without hope?”
Beasts. Unthinking, cruel, savage monsters. For without hope, there could be no love. No gentle or noble things. But hope was more dangerous than any silver.
“Don’t tell them.” She hated the way her voice cracked with the emotion she thought was lost to her.
Or maybe that was hope.
“Don’t tell who?” He searched her face.
“The rest of your pack. We have to go let them out.”
“So you lock up everyone every full moon?” Incredulity was splashed on his face.
“Sometimes before the full moon. There are those for who the Curse consumes them completely. They’re like the berserker wolves. There’s nothing left.”
“Then what happens?”
She straightened and met his gaze. “We put them down. As I said, it’s a mercy.”
His jaw clenched. “Show me where they are. My people have waiting long enough to meet their new Alpha.”
“And the tonic, do you still want to open the stores?”
“Definitely. If you’re feeling up to it, you can catch me up on pack finances. I’ll infuse where we need it.”
She shook her head slowly. “You just can’t be for real.”
But that was the problem. If he was real, if somehow the universe had sent this wolf to care for this pack, the Curse would destroy him, consume him, until there was nothing of his goodness left.
He’d end up just like her father.
A crazed wolf lost in the dark.
Her teeth tingled. He wasn’t just a crazed wolf, he wasn’t just the Ardennes Alpha—he was her mate.
And she had to save him.
Not that he’d appreciate it.
Victoria was all about women’s rights—after all, she was pack Beta. She believed in equality in all things, but as a pup, she’d dreamed that when she finally met her mate, he’d be the one to save her. Not the other way around.
Worse, after all the saving, she imagined they’d live happily ever after. Like some goddamn fairytale.
But that’s not what was going to happen. This wasn’t going to end well for either of them.
Goddess, but she yearned to feel his flesh between her jaws again. Her throat fairly ached for his bite.
It comforted her that if the Curse took her, she’d finally feel his teeth at her throat. She imagined since he was her mate, her death in his arms would offer a bit of pleasure.
His hands suddenly shifted into claws and he dug them into his thighs, the Change near. But just as her wolf would’ve answered, he gained control. “I don’t know what you were thinking, but my wolf didn’t like it. Or maybe he liked it too much.”
She bit her lip, her body thrumming with power, desire… Her flesh had a will of its own and she reached out to touch his shoulder. Victoria wouldn’t lie to herself and say she touched him to soothe him, to comfort him, or even in a move of support and solidarity. She touched him because it pleased her to do so.
“Victoria.” Her name sounded like a warning and a plea on his tongue.
Touching him felt like home. Just the simple connection of her fingers on his shoulder. What would mating be like with him? Heat rushed through her veins like lava and gold. It would be like the birth of a star.
Or the death.
It would consume them so utterly.
She wanted that with an intensity she didn’t know she could still feel.
But her people, their people. They were still chained. Probably frightened since she hadn’t been chained with them.
“Come. The meeting hall. There are stores of the tonic there as well.”
“Will there be enough for everyone?”
“One dose. We save it for particularly rough transitions. I have my own bottle, and I know that seems horrible that I don’t share it with the pack. But it’s been the same bottle since I was a little girl.”
“Never feel like you’re doing wrong taking care of yourself. How can you protect the others, make choices for what’s best for them if you don’t care for your own wellness? There’s a difference between selfishness and common sense. And by the next full moon, if we haven’t broken the Curse yet, everyone will have their own bottle, too.”
“The Calavari Witches don’t work for free.”
“Nor should they. The pack can afford it. You’ll see.”
Maybe he was saving them a little bit after all.
Chapter 3
He didn’t know what it truly meant to be Alpha until Victoria opened the heavy doors that sealed his people in a tomb beneath the earth.
He was assaulted by their pain, their fear, and their hopelessness. That was the worst. It was a blight on all things good and sacred. The spirit of the pack was sick and broken, and it gouged a festering wound inside of him.
If he could take it all away from them, he would. Even if it meant suffering those things himself.
It was natural for a pack to not meet the direct gaze of an Alpha, but he invited their stares. Wanted them to get to know him, wanted to offer them some solace. But each face he searched was as blank and lost as the last.
Victoria began administering doses of the tonic, but many of the adults declined their dose to give their children double.
Armand thought he knew pain. Thought he knew sacrifice.
But this ripped him apart.
For a moment, he hated his witch heritage. Hated his own blood and the magic in it because anyone who could do this to a whole people was evil. They were worse than whatever trespass the Ardennes pack had visited on them.
One of the women stopped and grabbed Victoria’s upper arm, a clasp of respect between warriors. “Babette,” she whispered. “Her chains still hold her.”
A knowing look passed between them, a sorrow.
“He will give her a swift mercy.”
The woman looked up and met his eyes. Even though he was Alpha, he had no desire to compel her submission. He’d let her see anything she chose.
“I’m sorry. It should’ve been Luc to die with us.”
“You’re not going to die.”
“Babette will.” The woman nodded. “And without her, I might as well.”
“Do you want to stay with her?” Victoria asked.
“No. She’s not Babette anymore.” The woman lifted her chin and walked out toward the sunlight, the place where bad things weren’t supposed to be able to follow.
“They were mated,” Victoria said as the last person left.
He couldn’t imagine it, yet he had to. That could very well be him. Even though he hadn’t bitten Victoria, she was his mate. It wouldn’t be a stranger’s hand delivering her death either, it would be his own.
There had to be an answer, a solution.
Well, there was.
It was up to him to break the curse.
Part of him wondered why he should succeed when all before him had failed. What made him special and deserving?
His wolf answered. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t because he was an Alpha. It wasn’t because he carried the blood of an Ardennes witch. It was because his people had suffered enough. What more vengeance could be warranted? So many lives had been lost, his mother’s included.
“Are you ready?” Victoria asked him.
No, he wasn’t ready. His first act as Alph
a was going to be to put down one of his pack. Maybe he could save her. Maybe he could use his Alpha will to change her back to her human skin.
He had to try.
The animal stench was strong as they moved deeper into the hold. His wolf wanted to mark his territory, but he reined the beast in.
“Here is where we hold them if we think they won’t change back.” Victoria guided him to a reinforced steel container that was covered in hex signs painted over with pure silver. He could smell the metal and magic. Something big crashed into the walls—Babette. Or the beast she’d become.
“Open it,” he commanded.
The door slid open and the aberration launched itself at him. It was stronger than he expected and every inch a nightmare. He couldn’t fight it in his human skin.
His warrior form erupted and Babette’s teeth and claws tore at his flesh. Black venom like motor oil dripped from her maw and it sizzled on his skin. It was acidic, as much a weapon as the rest of her.
He drew deep, pulling his magic and his Alpha power to the surface. “Submit,” he said, the power of his voice causing the creature to still. Babette was no Alpha, or even a Beta, like Victoria. Hell, Victoria could be an Alpha in her own right, if she chose to be.
But not Babette. Babette was very much one of the tribe—a cog. Although a good Alpha knew that each and every cog was valuable to keep the machinery of the pack turning. He did not want to put her down.
He had her flat on her back in submission, but still she bit at his arms, his shoulders, his chest.
“Submit,” he demanded again, his voice echoing with authority and power.
She yelped and the woman’s human shape emerged. Instead of the horrible understanding that had been on Victoria’s face, there was nothing of this woman left. Even in her human shape, only the mindless beast looked back at him from her face. There was no comprehension there, no self-awareness. It was hunger and madness personified.
“Babette!”
The creature beneath him shuddered, bones breaking and reforming, the body arching and screaming.
“Babette! Come back from the darkness, I command you.”
Her convulsions continued, but he didn’t stop.
“You belong to me, to Ardennes. Return!”
The Ardennes Curse (The Woolven Secret) Page 2