Inking the Wolf: A wolf shifter paranormal romance (Wolves of Crookshollow Book 3)

by Steffanie Holmes

  When Serenity came downstairs, she asked Bianca if she could stay a few extra days. “I can’t get enough of this place. It’s so nice to get away from the London traffic for a few days. Plus, I’d still really like to get a tattoo from you, if you can fit me in.” I was shaking my head no, but Bianca must not have seen me, because she told Serenity she could stay.

  After Elinor and the guests who weren’t staying left, and everyone else retired to their rooms, I ordered some takeaway curries, and Bianca and I settled down in the library for our very first dinner as husband and wife.

  We hadn’t been alone in the house all day, so we hadn’t really talked about what happened since this morning. I tried to act cool as I set down two containers of hot curry and rice and unwrapped the naan bread, but my hands trembled so much, I dropped the forks.

  “Aw, Robbo.” Bianca picked up her fork and rubbed it against her jeans to clean it. “You’re like an awkward schoolboy.”

  I didn’t answer. I felt like an awkward schoolboy around her.

  Bianca waved her fork in the air, then pierced a piece of butter chicken. “We’ve been friends for ages now. We shouldn’t be nervous around each other.”

  “This is different,” I mumbled, as I picked up my own food.

  Bianca slid out of her chair. I heard the clatter of her fork landing on the table, and the slide of her knees crawling across the floor. She knelt in front of me. Her hands gripped mine, sending the sizzling energy cascading down my arms.

  Bianca’s lips found mine, devouring me with a hunger that made my chest ache with need. I reached up and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her closer, tangling my fingers through her hair.

  She pulled back, her forehead touching mine. “If there’s anything I can do,” she whispered, “to help make you less nervous, I’m willing to try it.”

  I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t find any words.

  Bianca blinked, her eyelashes tangling together. Her hand found its way between my legs. She unzipped my fly with one hand, the other gripping my shoulder for balance. She drew out my hard cock, a tiny moan escaping her throat. Her hand wrapped around the shaft, and she moved her hand slowly, drawing along my full length.

  I moaned against her lips as her hand moved faster, squeezing me tight. Her tongue slid over mine as she worked me harder, quickly bringing me close. I pressed my mouth against hers, savouring the scent of her, the feel of her fingers wrapped around me as—

  Knock knock knock.

  We sprang apart like two naughty children. Bianca was breathing hard, her hair sticking out at odd angles. The knocks kept coming, louder and more urgent. “I’ll get it,” she said, wiping the edge of her mouth. “It’s probably my mother.”

  I grabbed my stiff cock and shoved it back into my pants, untucking my shirt and pulling it down to hide the bulge. I had a feeling it wasn’t going to stay hard much longer.

  I followed Bianca into the sitting room, my stomach flipping. I was pretty sure I knew who was on the other side of that door—

  “Where is he?” Caleb’s unmistakable growl boomed through the entrance hall. He tried to shove his way past Bianca, but she pressed her foot against the door, jamming it open only a crack.

  “You need to calm the fuck down before you can come in,” she said. “Robbie didn’t mean to—”

  “Didn’t fucking mean to? That bastard destroyed the one shot we had of gaining control over the shifter reveal. He knew we weren’t ready for this to come out … he had to know, because it’s his damn fault we’re still waiting. He’s landed us in a huge fucking mess and it’s my job to figure out how to get us out of it.”

  “I know, but storming in here like this isn’t going to—”

  “I’m Robbie’s alpha, not you, and I need to talk to him, now.”

  My face stung. When Caleb roared like that, he sounded exactly like our dad. I shrunk back against the wall, my breath coming out in short gasps. This was it. He was kicking me out of the pack.

  My inner wolf flared up, pressing against my skin. The fear fled my body, replaced by a seething confidence. I glanced over at Bianca, at the way she held her body, proud and tall and in charge, and I remembered what I was – a man with the heart of a wolf, tough and loyal and fierce when attacked. I didn’t have to be afraid of Caleb. I needed to own my mistake and whatever happened, I would survive. I always did.

  “Bianca, it’s fine. Let him in.”

  “Don’t be an idiot, Robbie,” Bianca said, shoving Caleb back with both hands. “He doesn’t have the right to come over here and yell at you.”

  “He’s my alpha. He has every right, especially when I fuck up the way I did last night. Let him in.”

  Bianca gave me a weird look, but she removed her foot from the door. Caleb shoved his way through, his eyes blazing.

  “Of all the stupid things you could’ve possibly done, that was the absolute worst!”

  “Aye, I ken. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry? You’re sorry.” Caleb grabbed my collar, dragging my face to within inches of his. His hot breath landed on my face. I wanted to turn away, but I held my ground. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t drop you from the pack right now.”

  Panic rose in my throat. I’d given up everything to join Caleb. If he kicked me from the pack—

  You can’t let him do this, I told myself, forcing down the panic. For once in your life, Robbie, you have to stand up for yourself.

  “Because I devoted my life to helping you achieve this goal, brother,” I shot back, drawing from some deep inner resource of strength. My words came out clear, cutting through Caleb’s so completely that he stood dumbfounded while I continued. “Because we’re so close to achieving what our mother envisioned. Because sometimes people fuck up, and you just have to roll with it.” I grabbed my sleeve and rolled it up, shoving my Lowe tattoo in his face. “But most of all, because we’re supposed to be family. I thought when I joined with you, that I wouldn’t have to live in fear any longer that I was just one mistake away from death.”

  “That’s not an excuse—”

  “You’ve spent months proselytising over how the Lowe pack was going to be different. You said you didn’t want to rule with fear, the way Angus and Colin did. You said that this pack was a family. Well, you don’t just kick out a family member because they fuck up, unless you’re my dad, that is. That’s not how real families work. Families forgive each other, and they band together to find a way through their troubles. Well, at least that’s what I’m told they’re supposed to be like.”

  Caleb’s jaw clenched, but I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was wavering. Caleb had just as difficult a life as I had, facing my father’s constant disapproval because he wasn’t his son. He knew all about longing for a family that accepted him. I had him. I opened my mouth to continue, but Bianca’s voice cut through.

  “Robbie’s right.” Bianca folded her arms. “You can’t kick him out for this.”

  “I’m the alpha, Bianca. I have complete control over who remains in the pack. This doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

  “It has everything to do with me.” Bianca pulled up her cuff to reveal her own tattoo. “I’ve already survived one family that kicked me out just because I happened to fancy women. If this is the same kind of family – the kind that disowns someone just because they disappoint you in some way – then you can count me out, too. Because I’ve already got one family like that, and I don’t need another.”

  Caleb glared at Bianca. For a long, painful moment, I thought he might kick us both out of the pack. Instead, his shoulders sagged, and he dropped my collar. As his eyes met mine, something like pain flashed in his gaze. It was there for a moment, but then it was gone again.

  Caleb held out his hand to me. “I don’t say this often, but I’m the one who’s sorry, mate. Everyone makes mistakes. Fuck knows, I’ve made a few in my lifetime. It’s just been a long day, and I could have done with your help. I’m worried w
e might be running out of time to turn this in our favour.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come talk to you immediately. I guess … I didn’t want to face it. Elinor said you had Eric convince the press that it was just a publicity stunt – special effects and stuff,” I said, heading over to the table and picking up my curry.

  Caleb nodded, settling himself down on the chair opposite me. He grabbed a poppadom from our stack and bit into it. “I think they bought it. That London Underground article really helped, as it backs up Eric’s claim that it was just a stunt. The alternative is that there are really werewolves, and the world isn’t quite ready for that. The problem is that the shifter community saw the article, and now all eyes are on us. They think we’re being reckless, that maybe we did this on purpose to reveal the existence of shifters to the world.”

  “But isn’t that exactly what you’re going to do?” Bianca asked, scooping up a big mouthful of curry with her naan.

  “Of course, but not yet. We’re not ready yet. We don’t have the ring, and we can’t keep hiding behind this fake ring forever. Without the ring, we’ll never get the other packs behind us, which means we won’t be able to control the new shifter government. We’ll be at the mercy of power-hungry maniacs like Isengrim and your dad.” He jabbed me in the chest.

  “I made some progress on the ring,” I said.

  Caleb turned to me, his eyes shining. “You found it? Why didn’t you say something—”

  “You were too busy yelling at him,” Bianca said, her mouth full of curry.

  “I didn’t find it, but I definitely found something.” I slumped back in my chair. Caleb reached across the coffee table and tore off half my naan bread, dunking it into my curry before stuffing it into his mouth. He chewed while I described the paintings and dates.

  “Have you started looking?” Caleb glanced around the room, as if he might somehow be able to see the ring hidden in a dark corner.

  I nodded. “Unfortunately, there’s a lot of old junk in the house I have to go through. Of course, it might not even be here, but it seems likely. Silvia was young in the painting where she’s wearing the ring – there’s a good chance she lost or hid it here before she went off to live with her husband, which corroborates what Bianca’s mother told me. Of course, the other possibility is that it’s at her husband’s estate in Yorkshire, but I haven’t seen any evidence of it in the portraits on the castle website.” I was quite proud of the research I’d managed to do that day, once it occurred to me that the portraits were the key to dating sightings of the ring.

  “I’ve been meaning to get onto that. I’ll send someone up there to look first thing tomorrow,” Caleb said.

  “I can do it—”

  “No, Robbie. I agree with you. I think the ring’s probably here. That’s why I want you to stay.” Caleb stood up. “I have complete confidence in you. Now find that ring. And next time you guys have curry, invite Rosa and I over. That was delicious.”

  Caleb left. Bianca hung over the chair arm, draping herself across me. “I’ve never seen you stick up for yourself before.”

  I snorted. “You didn’t know me before. Angus and I always gave Caleb hell. I think he enjoys being the alpha and pushing me around now.”

  “Why do you let him?”

  “Because,” I sighed, “Caleb was always a decent guy, and I treated him like shite. I wanted to show my father I was tough, like him and Angus. What I actually was, was a coward, and I don’t want to be that guy anymore.”

  “I think you’re pretty damn tough, Robbie.”

  “Because I’m so strong and manly?” I flexed my bicep, and Bianca giggled.

  “Because you survived, Robbie. Because you walked away. You made the right choice. Sometimes, choosing is the toughest thing you can do.”

  Bianca leaned against me, and I fell into her spicy scent and warm body, never wanting to move again. We lay like that, our cheeks pressed against each other. After some time, Bianca’s stomach rumbled loudly. I noticed our food sitting half eaten on the table. Extracting myself, I went to the kitchen to reheat our curries. I was just pulling mine out of the microwave when Bianca crept up behind me.

  She placed her hands under my shirt, her nails scraping against my skin. She pressed her lips against my neck.

  “I love a man who knows his way around the kitchen,” Bianca murmured against my neck.

  I whirled around, wrapping my arms around her and drawing her close. Her lips found mine, her kiss leading me right back to where we’d been before Caleb showed up. I skimmed my hands down her body, feeling her nipples hard through her shirt.

  My cock sprung to life again. Bianca’s hands explored my crotch, rubbing me through the fabric of my jeans until I moaned against her lips. I tried to pull off her shirt, but she grabbed my wrists and started dragging me toward the door.

  “But the curries … I thought you were hungry?”

  “I am damn hungry,” Bianca purred as she led me up the stairs. “This time, Robbie Maclean, we’re going to use a real, proper bed.”

  I grinned, and followed her gorgeous arse up the steep stairs of the turret to the Rose Room. As we sank against Bianca’s rose-covered sheets, Caleb and the Benedict Ring fell completely from my thoughts.

  17

  Bianca

  The next morning, I woke up around ten to find Robbie had once again left me alone in bed with a breakfast of leftovers and fresh coffee. Bless him. I picked up the cup and sniffed the brew.

  Gross. I set it down in disgust. Robbie grew up without the life-giving joy of coffee. I’d have to teach him how to use the espresso machine. Not now, though. I was late as it was.

  I fumbled my way into the nearest mostly-clean clothes, hastily applied some makeup, grabbed my wallet and bike key, and raced for the stairs. When I trudged out the door to head to the shop, Robbie was in the entrance hall, pawing through a cabinet. Delicate crystal goblets and creepy toby jugs covered every inch of the floor around him.

  “No luck?”

  He shook his head, setting down a porcelain pipe. “Not so far, but I’ve only just started looking. What time will you be home tonight?”

  “About quarter-past-five, unless we get a sudden rush of new clients. What shall we do about dinner?”

  “I thought we could try that Chinese place down the road.”

  I grabbed my stomach, pinching the skin between my fingers. “All this fast food is going to destroy this slim figure you love so much.”

  He grinned at me. “I’ll love you whatever you look like. Besides, you’re a married woman now. You’re allowed to let yourself go.”

  Usually, I’d hit someone for a stupid comment like that, but Robbie’s grin was too infectious, and his words too sweet. I settled for a slap on the shoulder. I shut the door behind me, unlocked my bike, and headed off to work.

  Elinor sighed and pointed to her wrist as I walked in. “You can’t make that face at me,” I said as I started prepping my inks. “You don’t even have a watch.”

  “I don’t even need a watch to know you’re late,” Elinor grumbled, pointing into the waiting area, where my first client was already seated.

  We had a busy day in the shop – my friend Iris from Holland stayed on after the party to do a residency, which meant she’d booked out one of our chairs for the whole day. Elinor and I had a booking each in the morning, and then a couple of walk-ins – eighteen-year-old girls getting butterflies on their lower backs. I had to resist cringing as I drew them up some generic butterfly stencils. I’ve drawn so many butterflies in my career I could practically be a butterfly botanist.

  After the girls left, Iris got to work on her next client. Elinor took out her sketchbook and made another flash art page – this one was all themed around skulls and roses. Flash art is the sheets of drawings we display on the studio’s walls and in folders in the waiting area. Walk-ins (like the butterfly girls) will often pick something direct from the tattoo books, which we just copy onto their skin. We delib
erately design flash to be quick to tattoo. It’s fun to create, and a way to show off our individual styles, but flash also kind of represents everything I hate about the tattoo industry. I’ve tattooed the exact same skull I drew five years ago nineteen times now.

  While Elinor worked on her drawings, I made some updates to The Prim website and social media. Serenity had sent me some of the pictures she took from the party, and I was uploading them all to Facebook when I came across one of Robbie and me at the altar, sharing our first kiss.

  My fingers tingled as I gripped the mouse. An ache rose in my chest as I remembered the feeling of his lips against mine, the way my whole body surged with heat. It wasn’t just a good kiss, it was an incredible kiss.

  Look at us, just like a real married couple.

  My mind flashed to a photograph that hung in my parents front hall. My mother and father, standing outside the church where they were married, their hands clasped together. They stared straight ahead, eyes glazed, bodies so far apart you could fit another person between them.

  I made the mistake of pointing that out to my mother when I was seven. “Of course,” she said, stiffening her spine the way she did when she was going to teach me a moral lesson. “We must always leave enough space for the Holy Spirit.”

  That photograph haunted me, overshadowing every “happily ever after” fairytale I’d ever heard. My parents, always stiff, always drifting in different directions, never meeting anywhere in the middle. That’s what real marriage is – suffering and misery and oppression. It’s not the fairy-tales.

  I stared at the picture of me and Robbie. Would that happen to us? Would we fall victim to the marriage curse, to the space that engulfed my parents? Would our friendship survive us?

  Damn. Trust a kiss to ruin a perfectly decent fake marriage.

  “Bianca.” Elinor waved her hand in front of my face. “Can you hear me?”