Storm Wolf

by Jane Godman

  His words achieved what nothing else had been able to. Emina gaped at him, her mouth opening and closing but with no sound coming out. Odessa, meanwhile, covered his face with kisses. Although each touch of her lips on his flesh sent searing darts of agony through to his nerve endings, she seemed to be enjoying herself so much Lowell didn’t have the heart to ask her to stop.

  “Towel?” He raised a brow at Samson, who obliged by draping one over his groin. Since Lowell had already gotten off to a bad start with Emina, he figured covering up might be a good move. Right now he didn’t feel strong enough to lift a finger, let alone anything else, but Odessa’s lips did feel good . . .

  His memory of why he was here started to come back in thick globs, like mashed potato doled from a serving spoon. He winced at the recollection of the bullet smashing into his knee. Gradually, he pieced together the whole story. Chastel’s plan to kill Odessa and replace her with Serena. To use Hel to take the brotherhood to the underworld. To allow Serena, Chastel’s puppet, to preside over a new and bloody war between the Arctics and the Siberians, which would ultimately lead to the destruction of both.

  Lowell’s lips thinned into a tight line. “Where is Chastel?”

  “Right here.” Samson pointed to a pitiful figure in the corner of the room. Covered in blood and with one hand over the lower part of his face, Chastel looked considerably less pleased with himself than he had the last time Lowell saw him. He seemed to be trying to explain something to Angrboda, but the goddess was refusing to listen to him.

  “What happened to his face?”

  “Odessa did it.” Samson grinned. “She drop-kicked him when he went for his gun to finish you off.”

  “That’s my girl.” Lowell reached for Odessa’s hand. “Why did the goddess and Gunnar follow us?”

  “It’s a long story.” He liked the way her eyes shone with love when she leaned over him. He wanted to see that look every day for the rest of his life. “They knew something was up by the way Alexei started acting weird.” She glanced around the room. “Where is Alexei, by the way?”

  “He went outside a minute ago. He said he was feeling sick,” Angrboda said.

  “That’s what I keep trying to tell you . . .” Chastel’s voice was muffled because of his broken nose.

  Angrboda turned on him, her face a mask of cold fury. “And I have told you that I don’t want to hear it. There is nothing you can say to me that can possibly excuse your conduct. You may not be a werewolf, but your crimes against my species have ensured you will spend the rest of your life in a cell beneath the palace of Jotunheim.”

  Chastel’s voice might be subdued, but the long-suffering note was clearly heard by everyone in the room. “If you would just listen to what I’m trying to tell you, maybe you would understand that this is not an excuse. That wasn’t Alexei who went outside a few minutes ago.” He rose to his feet. “I’m Alexei.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Three months later

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” Angrboda looked both concerned and hopeful. “I might not know much about these things, but I don’t think it’s exactly traditional.”

  “I don’t care about tradition.” Odessa’s voice was firm. “Besides, how many other brides can say they were given away by a goddess?”

  She felt like she hadn’t stopped smiling since Lowell had proposed. She was marrying the man she loved and nothing else mattered. Not the fact that her mother had refused to be here. Not even that Santin Creative was a shadow of its former self without the creative threesome of Odessa, Alexei, and Serena at the helm. Or even the devastating news, delivered by a werewolf doctor that Lowell might never fully regain the use of his injured leg. Even the fact that Chastel was still on the loose and no one knew where he was hiding, or what he was planning next, faded into the background today.

  Odessa’s gown was a simple full-length white sheath and she wore her hair in an intricate plait over one shoulder. The garden of Lowell’s mansion was the perfect setting and the only guests either of them wanted were the brotherhood. Gunnar would perform the ceremony. He joked that, being a god, he was better qualified than any human or lycanthrope to do the job.

  It was eleven thirty. There were still another thirty minutes before the Alaskan sun sank onto the horizon and refused to surrender its place to the night. Odessa would never quite get the attraction of the midnight sun, but she knew how much it meant to Lowell. Like a never-ending day, it was sunrise and sunset happening at the same time. The midnight sun bathed heaven and earth in its unique reddish yellow glow. To Odessa it was pretty, an image to be wowed over and tucked away in her memory like an old photograph. To Lowell it was magical and life affirming. It refreshed and renewed him. Right now, during his recovery from such a life-changing injury, he needed its power almost as much as he needed Odessa at his side. So they would be married at midnight. All their anniversaries would be spent in its mystical aura.

  Odessa sat on the bed in the guest room and turned to look at her grandmother. Had Angrboda once experienced this same flutter of excitement and joy as she waited for the moment when she would exchange her vows with Loki? It seemed impossible to imagine. Odessa decided to ask the question that no one else dared. This was her family, and, no matter how difficult the answers might be, she needed to know.

  “If you are a werewolf and Loki has a human form why was Jormungand born as a giant serpent and Hel half alive and half dead?”

  At first she thought Angrboda wasn’t going to reply. Great, I’ve annoyed her. My mother isn’t here and now I’ve caused a rift with my grandmother. Some wedding day this is going to be. It’s just as well we don’t have a church, the bride’s side would be empty.

  Eventually, Angrboda came to sit next to her. “Loki is a trickster. Much like this Chastel, who managed to switch bodies with Alexei without any of us realizing what was happening.” A little smile played about her lips. “Unlike Chastel, Loki is a charmer. He could woo the birds from the trees with just a smile. But he has a dark side that he keeps hidden. And he is a shifter, too. Loki can shift into many forms, and his magic is more powerful than any I have known.”

  “Did he trick you into loving him?”

  “Oh, no.” Angrboda shook her head. “He didn’t need to use trickery. I fell in love with him the moment I saw him. But our marriage was doomed. Loki has no conscience. He lives for his tricks and his games . . . and his other women.”

  Odessa covered Angrboda’s hand with her own. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It was wonderful while it lasted.” The smile in those green eyes held a world of memories. “But you wanted to know about our children? Since I am a werewolf, it is no surprise that Fenrir is, too. When Jormungand was born, he inherited Loki’s shifter abilities. And Hel? My poor sweet daughter is a combination of us both, the best of me and the worst of him. Sometimes magic isn’t all we dream it will be.”

  She held out her arms and enfolded Odessa in a hug. After a few moments, Odessa realized Angrboda was the one deriving comfort from the embrace.

  The door opened and Jenny’s white-blond head appeared. “Can we come in?”

  When Odessa nodded, she and Valetta entered the room. They wore matching flowing dresses in a soft green color that perfectly suited their ethereal beauty. Valetta presented Odessa with a bouquet of tiny white roses. “They match the ones in your hair.” She kissed Odessa’s cheek. “News from the garden is that the groom is close to ballistic with nerves.”

  Angrboda rose from her seat and held out her arm. “Shall we go and put him out of his misery?”

  They made their way down the sweeping staircase. As they reached its foot, the front door opened and Emina stepped inside. Odessa’s mother stood on the doorstep as though unsure of herself. It was an expression Odessa had never seen on her face before.

  “Am I still welcome?” Emina’s voice was gruff.

  “Of course.” Angrboda was on Odessa’s right. Smiling, Odessa held out her lef
t arm to her mother. With a loud sob, Emina took it and the procession continued on their way out to the garden.

  When they stepped onto the sandstone path that led to the small gazebo where the men were waiting, Odessa gave a little cry. Lowell was standing for the first time since he had been shot three months earlier. He was supported by crutches, but it was such a major breakthrough that she let go of Angrboda and Emina and ran to him.

  “You didn’t tell me.” She stopped just short of touching him, not wanting to unbalance him.

  “I’ve been practicing, but I wanted it to be a surprise.” His eyes shone with love as he looked down at her.

  Odessa stood on the tips of her toes and pressed a kiss onto his lips. “You are amazing.”

  “Ahem.” Samson, who was the best man, cleared his throat. “It’s one minute to midnight. Are you ready to proceed with the ceremony?”

  Lowell smiled down at Odessa. “I have never been more ready for anything in my life.”

  * * *

  “This is not the wedding night I would have chosen for you.” Lowell gestured to his knee brace as he lay back on the bed wearing only his boxer briefs. Somehow it didn’t feel very romantic when he had needed Samson to help him undress and he had taken a handful of painkillers after standing for ten minutes to get through the ceremony.

  “This is exactly the wedding night I wanted.” Wearing the beautiful white lace nightdress she had chosen for the occasion, Odessa turned to face him as she undid the plait in her long, dark hair. She was so beautiful she took his breath away. “Because you are the husband I want.”

  “You know, we haven’t discussed how this will work.”

  Her brow furrowed. “It’s called marriage and it works because we love each other.”

  Lowell laughed. “You know what I mean. I live here in Alaska, you live in New York. That’s even before we start on the Sibo-Arctic situation.”

  Odessa came over to the vast bed and, careful not to jolt him, sat at his side. “I no longer live in New York.”

  Now it was Lowell’s turn to frown. “I don’t understand.”

  She took his hand. “When Chastel shot you and I thought you might not live, I knew there was only one thing that mattered to me.” He opened his mouth to speak and she pressed the tips of her fingers to his lips. “I couldn’t imagine a future without you. It was like I was experiencing the most extreme panic attack of my life, like I had hellfire burning in my veins. I knew, if you survived, there was only one place I wanted to be. Right here at your side . . . forever.”

  “I can’t ask you to give up your work for me. Santin Creative is your life.” Lowell could hear the husky note of emotion in his own voice.

  “No, it was my life. I have a different life now.” He searched her face for some sign of regret, but there was none. Her eyes were serene, her smile happy.

  “What will happen to the company?”

  “This might surprise you after everything that has happened”—Odessa looked like a child who has been caught out in mischief—“but I have asked Alexei to take over as CEO.”

  “What the . . . ?” Lowell jerked upright so fast he straightened his knee and saw stars. When his vision had cleared, he spoke a little breathlessly. “That treacherous little fucker? Why would you trust him within a mile of your company?”

  “Because he is very good at his job and because none of what happened was his idea. He was under Serena’s influence the whole time. And, if he hadn’t told Gunnar and Angrboda the whole story, Gunnar wouldn’t have arrived in time to save you from Chastel’s bullet.” Odessa smoothed her hand down his arm coaxingly. “And he got his punishment in my mother’s kitchen when Chastel switched bodies with him in order to escape.”

  “That was hardly a punishment. The spell wore off after a day or two. The worst thing that happened was he had a broken nose and had to suffer looking like Chastel.”

  “And he had the wrath of my grandmother to contend with,” Odessa reminded him. “That can’t have been fun. I’ve told him if he messes up at Santin Creative, he’ll answer to Angrboda. He went an interesting shade of green, but he didn’t turn down the job. I’m guessing he’ll be the most conscientious employee ever.”

  “So all that’s left is the Sibo-Arctic thing?” Her smile deepened. “Don’t tell me you’ve dealt with that as well?”

  “Not dealt with exactly.” She sighed. “I never wanted to be the leader of the Siberians, but all my life I got told by both my parents that it was my duty, my heritage. It was only when I finally met my grandmother that I discovered that I don’t come from a long line of Siberian leaders. My father was the first. He was given the title by Angrboda because he insisted on a position of control. So when you told me that the Siberians were unique in having one overall leader, I didn’t know it wasn’t out of any groundbreaking attempt to make our species stronger. It was simply to appease my father’s lust for power.”

  He watched her in fascination. “What does that mean for the future?”

  “It means that, with my grandmother’s support, I will gradually step down. I’ve never been a hands-on leader anyway. Now I plan to make a public announcement that the war with the Arctics is over. Then I will disband the Siberian fighting force. Eventually, I will retire completely from my role as leader. The Siberians will be like every other werewolf species. Each individual pack will be autonomous. There will be no overall leader.”

  “Does that mean we can have cubs who will not be outcasts?”

  Odessa took his hand and placed it against her flat stomach. “It not only means we can, it means we will.”

  Lowell’s heart suddenly seemed to have swelled and become too big for his chest. “You’re . . . ?”

  She laughed, nodding. “Knocked up? Yes, we’re going to have our own little Sibo-Arctic, Professor Lowell. Get used to the peace and quiet while you can, because I intend to fill this big, old place with our own, brand-new werewolf species.”

  He drew her face down to his, kissing her long and hard. “Do you know how much I love you?”

  “It better be at least a fraction of how much I love you.”

  Lowell twisted one long shining lock of her dark hair around his finger. “You seem to have everything figured out.”

  “Not quite everything.” The mischief was back in her smile as she leaned closer. “I still haven’t worked out all the logistics of this wedding night thing . . . although I do have a few ideas.”

  Lowell sucked in a breath as her hand traveled down over his abdomen. “Since I can’t move without help, I may not be much use in these plans of yours.”

  “What I have in mind involves you lying back while I do all the work.” She tugged her nightdress over her head before shimmying closer. “Is that something you think you can handle?”

  “I’m prepared to give it a try.” It was amazing how quickly the pain in his knee got relegated to second place when he was so turned on he could hardly see straight.

  With achingly slow movements, Odessa slid his underwear down past his hips. Now he was exposed to her gaze, she tilted her head back, studying him thoughtfully. Lowell’s balls ached in anticipation. Moving closer, Odessa leaned into him, running her fingertips lightly across his chest, an action which pressed her upper body against his abdomen. Her breasts were warm and soft against the iron hard shaft of his cock and he clutched the sheets on either side of him to stop himself from trying to move his damaged leg.

  Odessa ran her tongue up the underside of his erection and he made a sound like water coming to the boil. And that was, after all, exactly how he felt. He was at boiling point. Odessa closed her lips over the head of his cock and circled her tongue around it and across the slit. Lowell’s thigh muscles clenched hard, and he gritted his teeth as the action sent a streak of pain to his knee. Fuck it. It was worth it. He let his head fall back against the pillows.

  Odessa took her time accommodating to his girth, stretching her mouth wider to take him deeper, all the while rubbi
ng his sensitive head with her tongue. The wet heat instantly made him harder. The slither of her tongue over the sensitive underside of his cock and the soft scrape of her teeth as he hit the back of her throat drew a primal groan from him. She sucked him hungrily, hard and deep using her tongue and hand in unison. Every nerve ending in his cock and balls tingled as if charged with static electricity. Her sucking rhythm combined with her hand working his shaft caused his cock to swell further and a familiar ache seized his balls.

  Odessa’s nipples grazed his thighs and he reached a hand down to down to fondle them. She moaned and sucked faster, her eyelashes fluttering closed. His muscles contracted and his cock twitched. He held her head as he came, his body jerking and shuddering to an eventual standstill.

  “I’m not sure I can return the favor.” His voice was regretful as he drew Odessa into the crook of his arm.

  She laughed. “Don’t worry. You owe me, and I’ll make sure you pay me back.”

  Lowell’s sleepy sigh was pure contentment. “We have the rest of our lives for you to make sure I do.”

  About the Author

  Jane Godman writes paranormal romance for Harlequin Nocturne and SMP Swerve, thrillers for Harlequin Romantic Suspense, and steamy historical romance. She also writes erotic romance as Amanda Stewart.

  Jane lives in Cheshire, England, is married to a lovely man, and is mum to two grown-up children. When not writing, Jane loves to travel to European cities that are steeped in history.

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