If she’d had a knife in her hand, she’d have shown him who carved up whom. Instead she blinked hard, sniffed, and pulled the steaks out of the fridge. Revenge was a dish best served cold, but hers would be so hot it burned.
The sidekick stared at her. “That sauce better be as good as you say—or else.”
“It will be,” Ellie promised, but she’d cook quickly, feed them enough toxins to keep them glued to the toilet, and hightail it out of here. She dug in her basin of foraged produce and pulled out the wild fungi—the poisonous ones she’d gathered under the gunman’s nose.
See, suckers? I love it when a plan comes together. I’ve got to stop pretending I’m the freaking A Team, and figure out how to return to the otherworld.
The foraged fungi would be identical to the ones in the fridge once she’d cooked them, except that they caused diarrhea and stomach cramps of course. Back when she’d been a half-starved schoolgirl, she’d mistakenly foraged some magic mushrooms for her tea. They’d assuaged her hunger, and there’d been no ill effects until the next day. Of course the ones she’d picked earlier acted almost instantaneously.
Even though she’d only been fourteen, she remembered her magic mushroom-induced dream clearly. She’d finished her afterschool paper delivery route, and already weary, she’d trudged home to clean up after her mother and cook dinner. That one time had seemed different. Someone had cleaned the windows, and the house had smelled of furniture polish. Delicious odors, chicken casserole and freshly baked bread, had wafted from the kitchen to greet her. Her mother hummed softly as she stood by the sink and prepared enough vegetables to feed the street.
Best of all was the man with twinkling eyes and warm smile. Somehow she’d known he was her father—the man who’d walked away before she was born. His jaw had dropped when he saw Ellie.
“You never told me my daughter was so beautiful.” He stood up and opened his arms. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get back sooner, but I’m proud of how you’ve looked out for your mother.”
She’d never made anyone proud before. The lump in her throat almost choked her, and when she ran to him, he’d swung her into his arms. He’d swung her and swung her until the world turned so fast she felt sick.
She woke in a hospital bed. The spotless house, a father who loved her, and a mother who actually cared, had all been a dream. Apparently she’d collapsed in the street, and the doctors blamed the mushrooms, although no one could explain why the onset was more than twenty-four hours after she’d eaten them. With hindsight, she blamed her Elf metabolism.
She’d mourned that dream. Every part of her had wished it was real, but her life didn’t ever get that good. Everything from the scent of furniture polish and home cooking to the way her mother had seemed so happy, had seemed supersharp and focused. Ellie had believed it with all her heart. She’d loathed mushrooms ever since.
Tonight, she’d dine on the ones wrapped in brown paper while her secret weapon—poisonous fungi—set her captors’ guts on fire. While they groaned and puked, she’d escape.
Ellie kept her head down as she served the steak dinner. Her captors dug in with gusto. She sat quietly at the foot of the table and ate her own. A quick glance around the room showed her the car keys and gun tossed casually on the sideboard. Any minute now, Laurel and Hardy would get their comeuppance.
As she cleared the dishes, she heard them curse and start retching in the dining room. Two sets of footsteps thundered up the stairs. Someone threw up as they ran. Ellie raced into the dining room, grabbed the keys and the gun. Two minutes later, she dumped her bag in their car and roared off down the drive. She’d find a cheap hotel and hole up for the night.
See, guys? Never fuck with the cook.
Chapter Six
Joel hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten, but he roamed the camp, all faux good humor and smiles. His primal beast prowled inside him, clawing for its freedom and demanding he set things straight with Ellie. He’d watched over her and even tried to treat her as though she were his little sister. Then he screwed her until she could barely walk. The sway of her hips as she descended the Church Stairs had made his cock so stiff he’d needed to jerk off the instant he set foot in his quarters.
He owed his men an appearance, but he couldn’t face food. Instead he’d cradle a mug of coffee, and joke with the soldiers in the mess hall. These soldiers were pack, so he’d hide his bad temper and do right by them. When he spotted Pamela eating overcooked eggs and greasy bacon, he glared at the new cook. Ellie’s breakfasts had been Lykae feasts, not greasy-spoon grub.
He strode to her side. “Did you find her?”
She shook her head. “No. Her trail vanished once she left Pannet Park. She’s probably hooked up with some old friends, and they’d gone off in their car. Honestly, sir, she could be anywhere by now.”
Joel gave his last order as camp commander. “Then you’re excused all other duties until you find her. Sorry to dump on you, but the Tundra Toughs are my main priority. I’m leaving for home soon, but I’ll write up your orders before I go.”
Pamela nodded. “Thank you, for my friend’s sake, but it doesn’t mean I’ll miss your inauguration as my new alpha. Most of the squad had leave booked for that, me included.”
The way his pack closed ranks around him warmed him. He cared about every one of them, even if he hadn’t been home much lately. The situation changed today, but his wolves growled and insisted he should be taking Ellie back with him.
Joel said his final farewells, dispatched one of the troopers with his last report, and flashed to the head of a broad valley in the heart of Tundra Toughs’ land. He shifted to his natural wolf ready to enjoy a run and clear his head. Each of his paw prints was bigger than a human male’s hand. His wolf stood well over five feet from shoulder to paw. When the pack gathered, he stood head and shoulders above them.
Much as Joel loved to run, he needed to slow his pace so he could interact with the pack. Tongue lolling, he breathed in the scents of home—alpine meadows and wild flowers. The Tundra Toughs’ territory stretched from frozen wastelands to Scandinavian meadows. This wide, pine-filled valley had thermal springs and balmy breezes. Unusually wide and deep, Rackutta Valley offered plenty of cover, prey, and shelter for the pack.
One of Joel’s distant ancestors had fled the hereditary king’s court, along with the king’s youngest daughter. In a Romeo-and-Juliet romance that had ended happily, the pair had fled to a region of arctic wastes and glaciers. They’d stumbled on Rackutta Valley instead. The valley was vast with limestone cliffs, caves, and an unexpectedly mild microclimate. The king had forgiven the lovers when they had their first litter, and good relations had been restored. Joel’s ancestors had stayed in their valley, and some of their friends joined them. They called their new pack the Tundra Toughs, and they’d thrived there ever since.
Joel had wanted to show Ellie his home. Part of him wondered which she’d prefer—a hidden den or a rustic cabin with a wood-burning stove and panoramic windows. Not that he’d ever get to show her his territories. His overactive cock had ensured that. And did he regret the great sex they’d shared? Hell no. That woman was one hot lay, but he did regret that his actions left her homeless and alone. Pack was everything to a wolf.
He’d roamed these forests as a pup, and he knew every crevasse and stream. His ears pricked up at the distant roar of a waterfall. The spring melt already swelled the river. The waters pounded through a narrow gorge, then cascaded over a twenty-foot-high limestone cliff. He still remembered the adrenaline rush the first time he’d plunged through the torrent to explore the cave hidden behind the cascade.
He turned human, and the kiss of cool air on his skin was another thing he’d missed. He’d definitely stayed away too long. Fleetingly, Joel wondered what Ellie would think of his home. Would she hate the long snowy winters? He growled at the thought.
That girl lived to bake, and if the pack’s civilian males ever tasted her pies and pastries, they’d besiege her. It
wouldn’t take her long to find a mate. The thought of her snowed in and snuggling up with another male made him want to turn primal. Joel had blown everything back on the cliff top.
When Ellie chose a mate, that man had better treat her right. If he stepped out of line Joel would rip out his throat, but right now, Joel had a pack to run, and his new fiancée to meet. Hopefully, his wife would be so hot she’d make his blood burn, exactly as Ellie had yesterday. Olivia Deerstalker should be friendly enough to connect with his pack but sensible enough not to paw him in public. Most of all, she shouldn’t want to soul bond with him. He doubted he had the capacity to make an emotional attachment, not that he wanted one.
He’d always pictured his wife with sparkling blue eyes and perfectly coifed blonde hair. Now, all he saw was Ellie’s emerald eyes and bobbed black locks. Damn it! One sexual escapade, and she’s taken up residence in my head. He half whimpered, half whined and hurried off down the valley.
The Great Hall was all rough-hewn beams, oak cross frames, and a thatched roof. It stood about eight miles ahead. It housed the pack’s communal gatherings and doubled as a school for the pups. Joel’s parents’ log cabin stood three miles to the east. His mother filled it with homemade quilts and tapestries. He hoped his fiancée could make their home as cozy.
Suddenly eager to see his family, he increased his pace. Normally, other wolves howled out a greeting or raced alongside him. Today they kept their distance. No one spoke, and rather than slap him on the back, the few wolves he passed turned away. Something was wrong. He just couldn’t work out what.
Joel’s beast clawed harder, demanding out. His hackles rose. This embarrassed silence wasn’t natural. The pack was hiding something, and he felt like a stranger in his homeland. As the next Alpha, he needed to right whatever troubled the Tundra Toughs pack. Finally he let loose his primal form, and his eight and a half feet of dark blond ferocity and fur veered off to his parent’s dwelling. His father spotted his approach, took artic wolf form, and loped toward him. Joel was shocked to see the dark gray hairs around his father’s muzzle.
Both wolves turned human, and Alexander Blackheart pulled Joel into a hug.
“What’s wrong?” Joel demanded. “Is it mom? Has something happened?”
Alexander shook his head. “Your mom’s fine, and it’s good to see you. I just wish you’d come sooner.”
Joel wondered when the laugh lines around his dad’s eyes had become wrinkles. “Then are you ill? Is that why nobody’s talking?”
“I’m fine, son, but I’m not getting any younger. You’ve been gone for almost four hundred years. Look, I understand you don’t want to step into my shoes. Perhaps it would be best if you stuck with a military career and let someone else pick up the Tundra Toughs’ reins.”
Joel’s mother waved from the doorway and ran toward them. She wrapped her arms around Joel’s waist and hugged him hard. “I’ve missed you, son. Alex, have you told him yet?”
Joel wanted to grab his father’s shoulders and shake some answers out of him.
As always, Alexander Blackheart’s expression softened when he gazed at his mate. His mate. “I was just about to when this sexy she-wolf sidled up and distracted me by hugging another man. Joel, the thing is, every pack needs a strong alpha at the helm.”
“Dad, that’s why I’ve come home.”
His father shook his head. “It’s no secret that I’ve been ready to step down for nigh on a hundred years. We didn’t know when you were coming home, or even if you intended to. I’ve heard some of the pack mutter it was time for a challenge. When I announced you were ready to take up your rightful place in the Tundra Toughs, I thought that would be an end to it.”
Joel felt as though icy fingers squeezed his heart. The Tundra Toughs were his birthright, and he wouldn’t give them up willingly. “I’m up for a challenge. Tell whichever idiot’s put his name in the hat to bring it on. I’m home now, and I’m going nowhere.”
“It’s not just one challenger.” His mom blinked hard and held him tighter. Alexander Blackheart drew his wife into his arms and kissed away the tears she hadn’t being able to stem. Joel knew his parents were affectionate in private, but all this public pawing was beyond him. His marriage wouldn’t be like that. A few tears from his mother, and his father turned to jelly. Joel would never let his wife manipulate him that way.
Joel’s mother snuggled closer to her mate. “Tell him, Alex.”
“There are three challengers, all from outside the pack. Marcellus is the youngest in his litter, but like the litter’s firstborn he’s also an alpha. His oldest brother took over their pack. Marcellus could either stay and take his rightful place as first lieutenant, or walk away and found a new pack. Instead, when he spotted a weakness in the Tundra Toughs, he challenged to be our next alpha.”
Joel clenched his fists. Fury burned though his blood, and the hairs at the back of his neck rose. His loyalty to King Caleb had kept him away too long. If he’d just come home sooner, this would never have happened. Elves’ blood, I’m glad Ellie isn’t here to see my shame. The Tundra Toughs were his people. He loved every one of them, but he’d stayed away too long.
His mother’s lower lip trembled. “One of the challengers, Lysander, lost his mate a century back. He was a pack alpha, but he stepped aside and took off into the forest. His pack thought he’d died of sorrow, but instead he’s grown cold and uncaring. He’s ready to run a pack again, but he cares nothing for the Tundra Toughs.”
“True enough,” Joel’s father agreed, “but the third one’s worse. No one knows anything about him, but Titus is a bruiser with a torn ear and a bad attitude. Even the single she-wolves avoid him.”
Joel folded his arms and widened his stance. “And I make the fourth challenger. That’s means an old-fashioned tournament. Just tell me when and where.”
Alexander met his son’s gaze, more weary pack alpha than loving father. “We delayed things as long as possible, but the deadline is three p.m. today. I figured if you weren’t back by then, then you didn’t care about pack or home. It’s no secret that I’m ready to retire, but you preferred your military career. I want you to succeed me, but you need to want that too.”
Joel looked away first. He’d put his duty before pack and family. His father’s worn-down expression and gray hairs made him feel ashamed. “King Caleb… Being Grand Marshal meant… Damn it, Dad. I’m sorry.”
His mother ran her forearm over her eyes and blinked wildly. “You don’t have to do this, son. Just because your father dreamed of handing the pack over to you doesn’t mean you dreamed of running it.”
Joel held her for a moment, then met his father’s expectant gaze. “I’m Tundra Toughs through and through, never doubt that, and whatever anyone says, I’m the pack’s next alpha. I should have come home years ago. There’s nothing like nearly losing something to make you realize how much it matters. I’ll be there to declare my entry.”
He leaped up the stairs three at a time. He’d sent his luggage on ahead. Good job I did. The council might have set an earlier deadline. They waited until I came home, and ensured I’d have time to enter the tournament. He pulled out his spare dress uniform, glad it wasn’t too creased. The turquoise flashes on his arm and turquoise stars on his epaulettes and collar marked his rank. He heard the door close as his father left to meet with his lieutenants and record entries.
When Joel returned to the parlor, he winced at the concern in his mother’s eyes. “You could just go back and be a soldier. Don’t let your father railroad you into something you don’t want.”
He knelt beside her and took her hand. “I want this so much it hurts. I’m up for anything this tournament throws at me. Just you wait. I promise that in four days’ time, I’ll be the pack’s next alpha.”
She smiled though the tears. “Good. And by the way, Olivia Deerstalker, your new fiancée, arrived this morning.”
Joel felt sick. He’d asked his father to arrange this wedding but marrying a st
ranger had lost its appeal. He kept thinking of how he’d hurt Ellie. And of course that took him straight back to their al fresco sex. Not that he had time to consider that now. He had a pack to reclaim.
He headed off toward the Great Hall, but when he arrived he hung back rather than join the three men gathered outside. His primal wolf wanted to rip off their limbs. His natural wolf wanted their throats, but tradition demanded he behave in a civilized manner toward them. Inside he didn’t feel civilized at all.
As the Great Hall’s clock struck three, the door opened. Alexander led his lieutenants out onto the veranda, and his voice rang out. “I declare a tournament for the position of pack alpha. All contestants must register within one hour or leave the Tundra Toughs’ territory for good. This is a solemn occasion, and it leaves the Tundra Toughs pack vulnerable. In accordance with Lykae tradition, after the declarations no one may leave our territory until the new alpha is in place. While this is not a time for celebration, Olivia Deerstalker arrived this morning to marry my son, Joel. We welcome her this evening with music and dancing. All the contenders will attend.” Alexander turned on his heel and walked back inside.
Chapter Seven
Lysander, the first contender, followed Alexander inside. Like Joel, he’d frozen into his immortality in his early thirties. His step was heavy and his eyes cold, but an alpha didn’t usually survive the loss of his mate. Somehow Lysander hadn’t followed her into the sunset. He sounded perpetually angry as if life had lost any laughter and sparkle. After a century in the wilderness, he’d returned to challenge for control of the Tundra Toughs pack. Nobody knew why.
Even though he stood well back, Joel heard the other wolf announce, “I am Lysander. And I declare my entry before the gathered witnesses.”
He came out a few moments later, and the second challenger, Marcellus, stepped into view. He paused outside the door, and Joel realized this wolf had turned immortal in his mid-twenties. His eyes shone with all the life Lysander’s lacked. His inbuilt self-confidence added a swagger to his gait. Rarely did one litter produce two alphas. Usually the younger Lykae left with a few friends and founded a new pack.
Scattered Siblings 3: To Mate a Werewolf Page 5