by Ruby Madden
From any other werewolf in the pack, these words could be construed as a challenge. A subtle prodding at the strength of the second most powerful wolf in the pack. But Mac was no threat. Jackson was friendly enough with him, and knew the man well enough to understand that Mac was actually one of the good guys. He didn't use the human females in the pack in the way some of the other male wolves might, demanding a night's pleasure without ever reciprocating any feelings a woman might develop for the wolf in question. By all accounts, Mac apparently was tender with the ladies. For that reason alone, all women, both human and shifter, fell like flies at his feet. Even more amazingly, they always stayed genuinely friendly with him afterward.
Jackson shook his head. He definitely was not friends with any of the women he'd ever bedded. He might not satisfy their romantic cravings, but he always made sure they walked away with a smile. It was the only right thing to do. Of course, that didn't keep him from getting slapped now and then.
But he'd never before been slapped for not touching a woman at all.
Shoving away the thought, he focused on something he could control: pack politics, no matter how subtle. "I feel fairly secure in my position," he said casually, directing his glance at Finn. His words were just slightly barbed. "I will never betray my alpha, and he knows that. Between myself and the alpha's sister, the leadership of this pack is more secure than all the gold in Fort Knox. Am I not right, friend?"
This time, his words were a direct challenge to Finn's comment about being close enough to the alpha to earn a fancy destination on his time off.
Finn casually threw up his hands in mock surrender, shaking his head as he cast his eyes quickly to the floor, then backed up slightly in a brief yet deliberate show of submission in front of the powerful pack beta. "The leadership of this pack is never in question, Jackson. Nor is your position within it." He grinned and waggled his eyebrows, swerving the moment back into casual celebration mode. "All I'm wishing for is a little bit of the charmed life you seem to live. Feel free to lend me some. The pleasures of our pack have grown somewhat stale, beautiful as they may be."
All three men glanced around the inside of the spacious ballroom they stood within. The ballroom was a sufficiently as grand as its name. With a marbled dance floor, enormous windows that looked out over the valley sprawling in the river mist below them, and decorated in the style that would probably put the royal family of England to shame, it deliberately flaunted the immense wealth of the pack.
All the women sprinkled throughout the room, wolf shifters and humans alike, exuded beauty, youth, eagerness, or sheer intrigue. The pack was over three hundred strong, and it did indeed contain a multitude of female delights. Werewolves in general were a notoriously randy bunch. The Wicked Mountain Wolf Pack was certainly no exception. Alpha Trevor Reginald was a stickler for old-fashioned ways. And old-fashioned packs lived far closer to their primal values than most modern packs. Primal values that included a lot of debauchery and fun for all involved.
Finn was quite right about the allures to be had here. Jackson had sampled most of them. It was his duty to please females, right? Healthy appetite for the pleasures of the flesh, coupled with long lifespans, ensured that both male and female wolf shifters enjoyed their lives.
Yet despite the front he had put up over the past several weeks, somewhere deep inside himself Jackson suspected his carefree days had ended. All because of one beautiful, ferocious, exasperating, and completely forbidden she-wolf he had never once touched, and now found he couldn't get out of his every damned waking thought no matter how hard he tried.
The idea was positively terrifying.
"So," Mac said casually, his tone immediately alerting both Jackson and Finn that he was about to say something interesting. "Just between you and us, what the hell was up with that, ah, gentle greeting you received from the alpha's sister?"
A sudden silence descended. Jackson sensed both interest as well as a small amount of trepidation from both of them. They were quite intrigued as to what his answer would be. Even Mac, who more so than most wolves in the pack generally could behave in a somewhat more casual way around Jackson, and sometimes even the alpha, knew he might be slightly overstepping the line here.
The question, Jackson thought that he narrowed his eyes at each of them, is why exactly does Mac think he's treading on fragile ground right now?
"I guess she just doesn't like my face," he finally answered after a sufficiently long pause, shrugging one shoulder. He forced himself to be the picture of indifference, although he prickled with intensity at just the thought of Tamsin Reginald, with her wild mane of dark hair and those flashing violet-blue eyes.
Mac slowly started to shake his head, his features for once not as playful as they usually were. "Jackson, don't take this the wrong way, but that's some live dynamite you're messing with there. Whatever you said to her, you might want to take back."
Now Jackson frowned and crossed his arms across his chest, tightening the formal jacket across his shoulders. Twitching slightly from the restrictive feeling, he simply stared at Mac for a long moment as he tried to ignore the torture of wearing stupidly snug attire. The alpha's mate, and now wife, was human, and she'd apparently wished for some human trappings at her mating/marriage ceremony. Tamsin had relayed Cassandra's requests for guest attire to Jackson and everyone else in the pack in no uncertain terms. The unspoken implication, naturally, was that Jackson would obey his alpha without hesitation, and wear whatever damn thing the alpha's mate wanted him to.
Jackson's role in life was to serve the alpha. He did just that truly without hesitation, operating from a place of honest respect and genuine friendship. Aside from being his alpha, Trevor was also Jackson's closest friend. Jackson would not only never cross him, he would not allow anyone else to cross those in the inner circle: the alpha, his beta, the alpha's mate, and the alpha's sister.
Of course, Jackson knew Mac was talking to him right now simply from the point of reference of another male shifter in the pack. But there was no reason not to let the man sweat for a second or two, thinking that it was possible he'd finally crossed a bit of a boundary, no matter how subtle.
"And why exactly," Jackson said in smooth yet deadly tones, pinning Mac with a look, "would you imply that there might be the scarcest bit of uneasiness between the alpha's sister and myself? Slap notwithstanding," he added, allowing a brief tug at the corner of his lip to indicate he was just playing with Mac.
Much like a wolf might play with its prey before the killing bite, that is.
Mac's face had grown decidedly alarmed. But he wasn't looking at Jackson. Instead, his gaze was fixed past Jackson's shoulder. "Well, because said alpha's sister is on her way over here right now. And let me tell you, beta," he said, taking a generous step back from Jackson, "she pretty much looks like she's about to haul off and smack the shit out of you again. Just trying to warn you."
Jackson snapped his head around. Indeed, the most beautiful wolf in the pack was headed straight for him. Despite her casual gait and the cool look on her face, pure fire blazed from her eyes.
"Well, well," he heard Finn say, amusement lacing the voice of his damnably entertained friend. "Looks like whatever the hell you did pissed her off so much that she's about to come back for round two. And I have to say my bet is on the alpha's sister. Good luck,” he added with a somber wink, clapping Jackson hard on the back before also retreating to a safe distance away. “I suspect you're going to need it."
Jackson could only stand rooted to the spot, the background buzz of conversation roaring into a meaningless hum in his ears as the stunning and completely confounding Tamsin strode up to him.
The one female wolf that he'd never kissed, but suddenly could only picture beneath him, mouth open in sheer ecstasy, as he had his way with her entirely willing lusciousness.
Damn it, what in the hell was wrong with him?
Chapter Two
Approximately s
even thousand different emotions roiled around inside Tamsin Reginald as she headed straight for the most irritating wolf shifter in the room. Yet if someone had aimed a gun filled with silver bullets to her head and demanded she name a single one of those emotions, she would simply have to allow herself to be shot.
Because beyond a vague, hot rage, she couldn't articulate anything else she was feeling.
The fact that she even felt such wild sentiments so intensely as to have assaulted the man in public annoyed her to no end. She was Tamsin Reginald, after all. Sister to the most powerful alpha in the country. A very powerful alpha female in her own right. For years now, she had carefully, wisely advised her brother on pack wars, mergers, a multitude of deadly situations that would break a lesser wolf. She was strong, smart, and more than capable of meeting any challenge that ever came her way.
Then why on earth was it that when she saw Jackson for the first time in two weeks, her only instinct had been to slap him so hard that she could still see the faint red of the impact of her hand on his cheek? And at her own brother's wedding to boot. In front of the entire pack. A pack filled with always calculating wolves, wolves who looked for any opportunity to claw their way up the hierarchy. Opportunity such as a schism in the pack leadership.
Get it together, she snarled to herself. Outwardly, though, she maintained her cool and calm demeanor, except for possibly an irate sparkle glittering in her eyes.
Clearly something was wrong with her. Tamsin was known for handling every situation with practicality. Of course she could have fun. She knew how to enjoy herself and her fellow pack mates. She knew how to relax, how to have a good time. She was kind and compassionate as necessary. But as the alpha's sister, and one of the fabled Reginalds, she could never truly let her guard down except around a very select few. She'd always handled her position slightly differently than her brother, although she knew just as well as he did the importance of maintaining face in front of a large pack rife with political intrigue and drama.
Losing her cool like that in front of virtually the entire pack had been an egregious error in judgment. She never ruled by emotion. Emotion was something she perfectly well accepted and embraced—it definitely had its proper place and time. But an uncontrolled mood, explosively demonstrated in front of the entire pack as if she were a mannerless cub? Allowing herself to be guided by her stupidly confused feelings?
No. That was something she should not have allowed.
Jackson was making her lose control, and she intended to find out why. Somehow, this was all his fault. Damn him and his molten, sexy smile. The smile that had never worked on her until mere weeks ago, and for who knew what ridiculous reason.
Taking quick notice of Finn and Mac standing directly behind Jackson, both of them watching her approach as if they viewed a particularly entertaining movie, Tamsin dismissed them to focus her attention on the most charming, most infuriating wolf in the pack. Tall, dark-haired, and armed with that charismatic smile that had slayed what seemed like an endless army of women over the centuries, Jackson Rule was the epitome of a wolf shifter sex god. At least, that was what the shifter groupies in the human world seemed to think. Any woman within a hundred mile radius of the man always seemed to drop at his feet, her legs splayed wide open from just one of his sizzling looks.
Tamsin wasn't one of those women. Never had been. Never would be. No, she had a brain. A brain she would damn well use. His ultra-charming bad boy ways were absolutely not going to work on her.
Jackson raised his eyebrows and kept his gaze firmly on her as she made her way straight toward him. “Hello, Tamsin,” he said as she drew near. A light danced in his arresting green eyes. A very challenging, playful light.
The rich baritone of his voice shivered along her skin, setting something inside her aflutter and irritating her even more. She awarded him a regal nod back, even though it made her roll her eyes internally at her own pompousness. “Jackson,” she replied, her own tones chilly. Assessing. Challenging right back.
He never did drop his eyes in her presence, although every other wolf in the pack would do so in deference to her high ranking. Then again, she never dropped her eyes around Jackson, either. As her brother's right-hand man, Jackson commanded more power than any other wolf in the pack aside from the alpha. He easily could've forced his hand and made Tamsin grovel before him in even the most minute ways. But never once had he done that. Tamsin instinctively knew he never would. Despite being a bit of a rake, he was a gentleman where his alpha's sister was concerned.
Of course, that was then. This was now. Whatever "now" was. And this now was different even than the now that had existed just before she had slapped Jackson.
She had slapped Jackson. The thought still mortified her, even as it gave her a strange sense of satisfaction. She not stopped for a moment to think about her actions even as her hand had raised and whipped out to smack him across his cheek, the sound ringing out along the crowded riverbanks where Trevor and Cassie's mating ceremony had taken place. Although she wasn't quite as deliberately calculating as her brother, Tamsin still almost never did anything without thinking it through first. For that alone, a cold shock had shivered through her entire body as her hand had connected with Jackson's face. It wasn't at all like her. She was bound and determined to get back to the person she was: someone who was not out of control.
As the alpha's sister, she could not afford to be out of control. Ever.
“Here to slap me again?” Jackson's tone was still mild, but the provocation remained in his eyes.
He was taunting her. Against her own stern command, Tamsin felt angry wolf hackles starting to raise on her back. Why did she suddenly struggle with self-discipline around this most exasperating man?
“Of course not, Jackson.” She forced herself to stay calm, despite the fact that every female thing in her body seemed to be suddenly alive in his presence. That was a recent development. And most definitely unwanted. “That was simply a warning about your crass behavior at your alpha's mating ceremony. It won't happen again. Unless you need another warning?”
Finn and Mac, still watching in open fascination, both widened their eyes a bit. Finn smiled, nodding his head at Tamsin in clear encouragement. He always did like to needle Jackson just the tiniest bit. She ignored him and kept her gaze instead on the tall, broad-chested, gorgeous—
Wait one minute. Gorgeous? Since when did she ever allow herself to look at Jackson Rule that way? Jackson freaking Rule, pack bad boy? Heartbreaker and panty-melter rolled into one? The one who would never grow up, who would never move out from under the shadow of the alpha?
She had to admit Jackson looked utterly dashing in his tuxedo. She hadn't even realized he owned a tuxedo. Cassie, Trevor's wife and now blushing bride, had expressed her desire to Tamsin that her wedding have some human traditions to it along with the more typical wolf shifter meeting ceremony. Although Cassie hadn't been specific about anything in particular, Tamsin had made a point of thinking back over the few human ceremonies she had attended in her lifetime, and doing a ton of Internet research to make sure it would be the wedding of Cassie's dreams. Cassie was her new sister, the alpha's mate, and the woman who had saved Trevor's life in ways the rest of the pack would never know, if Tamsin had anything to do with it. Tamsin had made sure every wolf in the pack understood the alpha's mate was to be obeyed in all her whims, which included dressing up for the ceremony whether or not they wanted to.
Very, very privately, Tamsin had to admit that Jackson looked more than dashing in his tux. He looked purely edible.
She narrowed her eyes as that idiotic thought wafted through her head. Edible? Whatever. She wasn't a shifter groupie. She'd never once fallen for Jackson's charms, or even really thought he had any charms. But the night before he left for his vacation—
Tamsin bit the inside of her lip to stop that train of thought. The past was the past.
Instead, she tipped her head very slightly
to the side while she tried to force her traitorous eyes to not drink in Jackson's every inch. “Well?”
He did it again. He smiled. That molten, melting, sexy smile she'd seen him do a million times, although never once had it been aimed at her. The smile that had slayed thousands of women.
The smile that was making her insides somersault and squeeze and feel really fucking good.
Damn the charming bastard.
“My deepest apologies, of course, for interrupting the ceremony of our esteemed alpha.” Jackson bent his head, making a dark slide of hair dip over one of his eyes. Between that and his smile, not to mention the skin-shivering tickle of his deep voice, Tamsin thought she might possibly explode on the spot.
This was absolutely ridiculous. Jackson Rule was a playboy, not pack leader material. Tamsin had her sights set higher. Her position meant she had no choice but to do so.
Not to mention Trevor would have them both thrashed, or worse, if she and Jackson ever did more than talk pack politics together.
She kept looking at him for a beat longer before she answered. "Your well-said toast was much appreciated. It covered up quite well for the extraordinary gaffe you made earlier."
Behind Jackson, Finn's and Mac's grins both widened. Tamsin squashed the urge to roll her eyes at them. She knew they were casual friends of Jackson's, and she didn't mind if they watched this exchange. She liked the both of them herself. Her constantly alert political mind even rapidly assessed the situation as being a conducive one for her position in the pack, as well as a simple shot of continued security for its alpha. What Finn and Mac saw here would slowly trickle back to the rest of the shifters. Tamsin was no fool. Finn and Mac were exceedingly loyal to both the pack and their alpha, but they were also exceedingly willing to share sly tales about a fellow male wolf's dressing down by a female wolf. They would gain a lot of cred by sharing such information.