by Tara Lain
Cole leaned against the arm of his father’s chair. “The doctor says—” He dropped his eyes.
Oh shit. “What?”
Landon nodded. “Go ahead, Cole. Everyone here wants to know.”
Cole swallowed hard. “Someone penetrated Paris’s body, but it appears to be with their fingers. I can confirm that by smell. When I found Paris, I caught the scent of lube but no semen. And the smell of Eliazer.”
Merced leapt to his feet. “Shit!”
Cole nodded. “Technically it’s rape, but thank God it wasn’t worse.”
Paris shuddered. The whole thing gave him the creeps.
Trixie wiped her cheek. “Thank God you got there when you did.”
Hell, that was true. Okay, get to it, cat. Paris leaned forward. “But even if Eliazer can’t find out what I am, it’s only going to take him a couple minutes to discover that Cole is alphanta of the Harker Pack and that Lindsey is also a pack member. This means he’ll bring twice the army to attack you. Rather than just stealing some of your territory, he’ll try to destroy everything and everyone.”
Landon wiped a hand across his eyes. “I already came to this conclusion.”
“So the alliance is of paramount importance.” He nodded toward his father.
“Chances are Eliazer knows you were there. We only captured four of his enforcers. One must have been in a surveillance room, and he got away. Even if Eliazer didn’t see you and the pack arrive, that soldier did. That means you’re as much a target as Harker Pack.”
Merced shifted in his chair. “I know that’s likely true. We all have a reason to hate Eliazer. But I don’t know if I can convince my top males to go along with a war. They feel like tying our fortunes to Harker may be asking for trouble.”
Paris shrugged. “So convince them.”
Merced stared at his hands. “I lost some clout when your sister ran away. If I push the issue, I could be challenged.”
Shit, he’d left his father a sitting duck. “But if the alliance is in blood?”
Merced shrugged. “It would have been unassailable. As it is—”
Paris let out his breath then sucked it in. “As it is, you’ll have to settle for me.”
Cole pushed off from the chair. “What the fuck? Excuse me, Mrs. Marketo.”
Merced frowned. “What exactly do you mean?”
“Get a justice of the peace and marry me and Cole. That will cement the alliance. Then you have him as your general. I’d suggest you line up that Vanessen wolf for some strategy, since he seems pretty damned smart to me.”
Cole’s face looked like he’d been hit. “And you?”
Paris sighed. Yeah, what about me? “Since Eliazer is likely to move a few mountains to grab me, I figure I better get out of town. Away from this mess. If he can’t find me, he can’t have me, and your war will be about the issues of land and power. Not quite as passionate as sex and power.” He wiped his palms on the jeans. “So let’s get the marriage done, because I’m pretty sure Eliazer will attack as soon as he musters the wolfpower.”
Landon frowned. “Why are you doing this now?”
Paris stared at him steadily. He seemed like a good wolf. “I’m not a pack animal. I don’t like obligations, but clearly I have some. And as has been pointed out to me, it’s about time the Marketos started keeping their word.”
Stomping feet. Paris looked up.
The door slammed on Cole’s retreating back.
* * *
“You have to do it, Cole. I’m sorry.”
Cole shook his head.
“I don’t want to remind you that you doubled our jeopardy by rescuing Paris Marketo. This war will be ugly. An alliance is the only way.”
Cole jumped out of the guest chair in front of his father’s desk. “Will you people never stop manipulating my life?”
Landon looked shocked.
Crystal remained stone-faced. “He’s right this time. This is the only way. I’m sorry.”
Cole walked toward the door, turned, and strode halfway back to where his mother was sitting. “Okay, I’ll fight your fucking war. And if I live, I’m done. No alpha. Find somebody else. I’m out of here.”
“Cole—”
He walked out the door.
* * *
Get the fuck out of my way.
Cole strode up to the pack hall and shouldered his way through the gathering of Harker and Marketo wolves. Get this fucking over with.
Males stuck out their hands. He nodded and kept walking. None of the pack members knew for sure why they were there, but the place reeked of fear and anger.
Inside, the crush was greater. This was no pretty pink ceremony. Just a prelude to war.
“Hi, Cole.”
“Hey, Cole.”
“Good evening, Alphanta.”
A few who hailed him were Marketos. Some stepped away as if he was catching.
He nodded. They only had to follow him for another day or two. Then they could all get back to their narrow-minded lives.
Up where the betrothal ceremony had taken place, what seemed like a century ago, someone had set up a stand. Sitting on one side of it was fucking take-your-breath-away Marketo.
Cole wore the same black jeans and shirt he’d saved Paris in. More war than wedding. Paris was also casual, but he redefined the word. He wore a white sweater and pale-tan jeans. The whole thing next to his midnight hair made him look like the fucking Snow Queen or a virginal bride. Cole would have laughed if his cock wasn’t creeping down his leg. It was hard to snark at beauty like that.
Cole sat in a chair halfway back in the room. People milled about, but they seemed to sense they should leave him alone. Good call.
He stared out the window at the trees. He’d like a house in the woods—of his own. Time to be a grown-up. What had Paris said? A political pawn? Yeah. That summed it up. And Paris was the best fucking politician of them all. Obligation, my ass.
He’d felt he couldn’t live if he didn’t save Paris. Paris was saved. Cole could live. Live without him.
He wiped a hand over his head and stared out the window again. Maybe. Maybe he could live without him.
He blew his breath out. Somewhere in the middle of Paris’s godforsaken pronouncement last night, Cole had known.
He glanced up at the cat’s face. What did that blank, beautiful expression mean? So he’d do this thing. Paris would repay his obligation and leave.
Cole sighed. And he would lose his mate.
How ironic. He’d dreamed of finding his one true partner. The one who would mate him for life. And that one true partner was maybe the only wolf on earth who could walk away from that bond and never look back. Cats don’t mate for life.
Landon stepped to the center of the space. “Let’s get started.”
Wolves gathered in chairs and stood against the back walls, mostly staying with their own packs. Rumors of war had spread enough to have the pack members worried. Really worried.
Landon led off. “Most of you have heard that we’re in for a fight. Nikel Eliazer wants Harker land. A lot of Harker land. In fact, I’d imagine he now wants to wipe us out and take it all.”
A big buzz went up in the crowd at that statement.
“He also wants to decimate Pack Marketo.”
This got a big shout.
“Why?”
“What does he want?”
One of the Marketo seconds stepped forward. “Does he want our land too?”
Landon nodded. “Probably. But mostly he wants your alpha’s son.”
Chaos. People turned to each other and the sound rose.
Landon yelled, “Enough.” Gradually the sound died.
The big wolf—probably the one who would challenge Merced in a fight—spoke, and a few others gathered behind him. “So why doesn’t the kid, uh, Paris Marketo just leave? Then we’re out of harm’s way.”
Paris stood up. “I am leaving, but seriously, how naïve do you have to be to think Eliazer will wipe out the
Harkers and leave Marketo alone? He’ll take everything you have. The only thing he won’t get will be me.” The sneer in the cat’s voice took the wolf down a peg, and a few pack members stepped away from him. Good sign.
Landon nodded. “Thank you, Paris.” He looked around the group. “As the old saying goes, we hang together or we’ll all hang separately. Our only chance is an alliance.”
A murmur went through the packs.
“The Alphanta Cole has sacrificed his life so that our packs can survive. He’s agreed to an alliance in blood with Paris Marketo.”
The big wolf bellowed, “What the fuck?”
Landon growled and the guy stepped back.
“Since they’re both the firstborn sons of alphas and offspring of mated pairs, their blood will bind. Same-sex marriage is legal in Connecticut and New York, so we have the official here to conduct the ceremony.”
The wolf pointed toward Paris. “That guy’s not even a wolf. I don’t know what the hell he is.”
For the first time, Merced Marketo stood up. “Anthony Paris Marketo is my son by my mate, the alpha panther domme Lazia, who died in birthing him. He is full-blooded alpha beyond anyone in this room except Cole Harker and would follow me if he were not more of his mother’s panther nature. He’s agreed to do this to save our packs.”
The room went crazy. Half panther? Nobody had ever dreamed of it, much less heard of it.
Cole shifted in his chair. Paris had agreed to do it to save the packs. Not because he wanted to marry Cole. Thanks for the fucking reminder.
The big wolf growled. “But gay wolves getting married. What a crap alliance.”
Enough. Cole sprang out of his chair. “Wo-would you l-like to see what a fucking gay werewolf can do?” Well, that got words out of his mouth.
The big Marketo looked shocked. “Uh, no. Sorry, Cole. I didn’t mean you.”
Paris stood up. “Would you like to try me?”
The wolf’s head snapped back to Paris. The cat was half the wolf’s size, but something about him radiated lethality.
Paris stalked a couple of steps toward the wolf. “Or would you rather focus your energies and strength on defeating Eliazer and give this alliance your blessing?”
The wolf stared at Paris. “Uh, yeah, sure. That’s what we need to do. Let’s get on with it.”
Paris had managed to bring the dissenting werewolves all into the fold on the coattails of their leader by allowing him to save face. Wow, what a politician.
Landon gestured to a wolf in the group. “We’re honored to have a member of Marketo Pack to conduct the ceremony. Judge Unger.”
An older wolf walked up beside Landon. “Will the celebrants please join me?”
Oh shit. Could he walk up there? His legs were shaking so bad he felt like he had a disease. He’d dreamed of getting married someday. Having someone to love who would love him back. Someone just for him, not the pack. And now that was gone, like everything else.
How could you feel this sad and still fight? And still live?
Slowly, he took a step forward. All the eyes of all the wolves in the big hall crawled over his skin. Running sounded so good.
He glanced up and found gold eyes fixed on him. What was the cat feeling? The cat who hated pack and was now sacrificing his freedom to it. True, Paris would leave as soon as this ceremony was over, but legally, he and Cole would be united forever. Or until someone ended it. The two of them would wander the world alone with invisible ties of obligation connecting them. Yeah, Cole knew how Paris felt. He hated it.
He inhaled and walked up beside the judge. Paris stepped over to him, and the sweet smell of cat oozed into his blood. What would this be like if it was real?
Don’t go there.
He and Paris didn’t touch.
The judge spoke. “Members of the Harker and Marketo Packs. In the community of wolves, marriage is a revered and honored state, akin to blood in the seriousness of the relationship. We are not humans. We don’t enter this contract with the idea that it can be changed later. Wolves wed forever.”
His right knee collapsed and Cole stumbled. Paris caught his arm. Their eyes met, and Cole felt the tremble in the cat’s paw.
The judge lowered his voice. “Are you all right?”
Cole nodded. Paris let him go.
The judge went on. “This union will not only unite Anthony Paris Marketo and Cole Harker in matrimony, it will unite the Marketo and Harker Packs through blood. If anyone knows of any reason why this union should not occur, speak now.”
The room held its breath. Cole’s throat tightened. For the first time, he actually wanted to speak in front of a crowd. But no sound.
“Anthony Paris Marketo, do you take this man, Cole Harker, as your husband?”
That was it? No loving or cherishing, no sickness or health? The “as long as you both shall live” was already implied.
Paris spoke clearly in that satiny voice. “I do.”
A little murmur raced through the crowd like maybe they hadn’t believed it.
“Do you, Cole Harker, take Anthony Paris Marketo as your husband?”
Gone. Everything given away. “I—I, uh, do.”
“Then by the power given me by the State, I pronounce you married partners with all the rights and responsibilities of the union.”
Landon’s voice came from behind them. “Cole, Paris, please seal the union in blood.”
They both turned. Cole pushed up his sweatshirt sleeve and bared his wrist. His father held a small knife. He made a tiny cut in Cole’s skin and inserted a stylus, sucking up a small measure of blood. Cole took the stylus and signed on the bottom of the contract. Landon repeated the same steps for Paris, who also signed. Then they faced each other.
Cole was supposed to take the knife and prick Paris’s neck. He glanced around the room at the rapt wolves. Tomorrow, he had to lead them to war. He wasn’t much for drama, but hell.
He raised his hand just enough to make it clearly visible to most of the pack members, then sent a ripple of energy into his finger. With a sear of heat up his hand, a wolf claw appeared.
The place erupted. That kind of power seldom happened in wolves. The ability to shift at will down to a finger required incredible control. They’d never seen it before. Cole glanced up at Landon, who winked.
Cole reached out and pricked Paris’s silky neck. A tiny drop of blood welled on the pure white skin. “I am your partner.” He leaned in and licked the blood clean, healing the wound. The sharp, sweet taste and smell of cat, that cat, flashed through his head. God, like a drug. “Ohhh.” Paris shivered at Cole’s whimper.
Cole shook himself. Get over it. He stood upright.
Landon offered the knife to Paris. The cat looked at him with narrowed eyes, then raised his slim, white hand and changed it into a cat’s paw with all claws extended.
“Oh.”
“God, what’s that!”
Wolves jumped back.
Well, son of a bitch.
The sheer impact of seeing a panther, or a piece of cat, manifest in their midst shocked the hell out of them.
Paris reached out the paw, dragged the silky, furry side across Cole’s neck, then turned it and pricked the skin. Cole jumped more from the fur than the claw.
Paris leaned in. “I am your partner.” The cat’s tongue stroked Cole’s neck a second longer than necessary, and then Paris stood back with just a hint of a smile.
Killing the little bastard was an option. Although, shit, he’d probably like to fuck him to death.
Landon held up the contract. “We have the alliance in blood. Pack Harker and Pack Marketo are united.”
Wolves applauded, some enthusiastically and some begrudgingly, but the sound was loud enough to honor the occasion.
Marketo stepped forward. “We have food for everyone, but following our feast we must begin our planning for war. I’m sorry, but it’s unlikely that Eliazer will give us time to party very long.”
Wolves
descended on the buffet tables like the last supper.
Cole took a breath and turned to Paris. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Saving the packs.”
“I didn’t save the packs, wolf. I saved my father and mother—and you. Thank you for rescuing me. I would have died in confinement.”
Cole nodded. Words were a problem.
Paris smiled. “Now we’re even.”
Crap, the top of his head was coming off. “Even?” He glanced around at the curious faces staring at them and lowered his voice to a hiss. “I rescued you because I fucking cared if you lived or died. Because I didn’t want to live if you weren’t alive. You married me to wipe out that debt.” He snarled across his teeth. “We’ll never be even.”
And he walked toward the pack chiefs gathering on the other side of the room to plan the war.
Chapter Fourteen
Maybe he could sleep through the war. Cole dragged himself through the door of his bedroom and didn’t even turn on the lights. Hell, it was practically morning anyway. The smell of cat swirled in his head. He hadn’t changed the sheets since Paris slept in the bed. Man, had that only been last night?
He kicked off his shoes and leaned over to get rid of the socks.
They’d set the sentries and had the wolves with engineering experience bulwarking their tree towers, while those with strong backs dug pits. The enforcers had automatic weapons, but Cole would certify those not already approved for arms-carrying in the morning.
Morning. Would he live through tomorrow? Did he care?
He pulled off his clothes, tossed them in a heap, and stumbled across the floor until he could collapse on the bed.
Shit! He jumped back and scrambled for the handgun in his pocket lying somewhere on the floor.
The chocolate voice oozed across the room. “Don’t freak out, Puppy.”
“What the fuck, Paris?”
The cat flipped on a small bedside light.
Paris lay on the bed wearing only his light-colored jeans. His black hair fell over his wide, pale shoulders like a moonless night against the snow. In the soft light, his golden eyes glittered and danced.
Cole shook his head to clear it. “I thought you’d be long gone by now.”
“We haven’t had our wedding night.”