by R. J. Blain
The government had hit teams for dangerous people, so the concept wasn’t new to me. If I hadn’t been so good at finding things, I probably would have been assigned to one of those groups.
My skills with a sniper rifle had drawn a lot of unwanted attention.
“I understand.”
“You’re okay with it?”
“Marine,” Lane reminded the group. “A covert ops Marine. You’ve heard about black ops before, right? Well, you’re looking at a legend in black ops. He’s been the subject of an international manhunt for almost a decade, and we only caught up with him because he made a single mistake.”
I grunted at the pride in Lane’s voice. “Legend is a bit much, Lane.”
“Not really. Your track record is unmatched.”
Grabbing my fork, I stabbed at the leftover roasted chicken Desmond had given me. “Bullshit.”
“You’ve survived more S missions than anyone else in the armed forces. You have a Medal of Honor. You have earned how many Purple Hearts?”
“Can we not talk about this?”
Lane snorted, joined Desmond in the kitchen, and plundered the leftovers. “It’s important they know what they’re dealing with. If they could have ever convinced you to take your sniper skills to the field, you would’ve easily been the best.”
“What do you mean by that, Lane?” Richard asked.
“I mean just what I said. He won’t go on missions for the kill shot. His handler could never convince him to do it.”
Desmond made a satisfied noise. “Who was his handler?”
“His handler was Vice Admiral Haney, and his code name is the Bard. After turning up from so many S-level missions alive, Declan was saddled with the Man the Bard Couldn’t Kill.”
Nicole’s growl drew my full attention to her. “S stands for suicide, doesn’t it?”
“There’s a reason I got out when an opportunity presented itself.” Shrugging, I turned back to my food and ate, trying to ignore the feel of so many eyes on me.
“This Haney is going to be a problem, isn’t he?” Desmond’s growl echoed his daughter’s, and I tensed as the acrid bite of anger intensified. “How many of these missions are we talking about, Lane?”
“The number wasn’t revealed in my briefing. I only found out the type when Declan told me.”
“Declan?”
I shrugged. “I stopped counting after twenty.”
“In how many years?”
“A decade, give or take. Most were in the last three or so years I was in, though. Prior, I was the one they brought in to find information or things fast.”
“Were you a Fenerec the entire time, or was the ritual performed during your tour of duty?”
I met Desmond’s gaze. “What ritual?”
The man choked on his own spit.
“I forgot to mention that part. I asked him already.” Hopping up on a stool, Richard reached for a jar of cookies and dug one out. “Damn. Your cookies are better than mine. I’m going to have to step up my game.”
“You don’t remember a ritual?”
“He could be like Sara. Attacked?” Sanders stared at me, cocking his head to the side. “Were you?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Puzzled, I turned to Richard. “Could you tell me what you’re talking about, please?”
“There are three ways someone can become a Fenerec. First, you undergo a ritual performed by another Fenerec. If you survive, you become a Fenerec. Second, you’re attacked by a Fenerec during a full blood moon. Sanders’s mate, Sara, was changed into a Fenerec that way. It’s extremely rare; we try to avoid performing rituals during a blood moon. The unexpected happens. Third, you’re born that way. I was. Desmond was. Nicole was. Most become Fenerec through the ritual.”
“Okay.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“Which is it?”
I stared at Richard until the man chuckled and bit into another cookie.
“Obviously, Declan’s response to someone asking a dumb question is the silent treatment.”
“I don’t remember any ritual, and I think I’d remember if a werewolf attacked me.”
The other werewolves signed in unison.
“Fenerec, please,” Richard muttered. “Werewolf is such a derogatory term.”
“We turn into wolves during a full moon. Werewolf seems pretty accurate to me.”
“Was your father a Fenerec? Or your mother?”
I kept staring at Richard. “I told you my mother was a witch.”
“I’m a wizard and a Fenerec,” Nicole chirped, waving her hand. “I’m so badass I’m surprised they haven’t microchipped me yet so they can keep track of me.”
“You’d just fry the chips, beautiful,” Richard replied, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.
Elliot chuckled. “My mate’s a witch and a Fenerec. Terrible witch, amazing Fenerec. Well, she’s an amazing witch when she’s doing her one trick, otherwise, forget it. When I’m honest about it, she’s not the greatest Fenerec either. She needs a push to shift way too often. Damn it. Who am I kidding? She’s a mess.”
I bet I’d fit right in with Elliot’s mate, but instead of saying so, I turned to Nicole. “Wizard?”
“Don’t ask that question yet, Declan,” Amber advised. “It’s complicated, it’ll probably make you uncomfortable, and her demonstrations of her powers usually involve pain and suffering for someone.”
“Okay. No, my mother didn’t smell like a Fenerec. I’ve only scented a few others before I met you folks.”
“Your father?”
“Never met him, but no. I don’t think so.” The questions dug up a lot of uncomfortable things about my past, but she had never mentioned my father having been a werewolf; she would have.
She had often muttered about wishing he had been. Things would have been easier—and he wouldn’t have left. That was the only thing she had known for certain about werewolves. Males didn’t leave their mates, not if they still lived.
“Damn,” Desmond breathed. “A random True-born.”
It was difficult to keep the frustration out of my voice. “I have no idea what that means.”
Elliot cleared his throat. “True-borns are wolves born to a human mother. Reverse True-borns are humans born to wolf mothers. My mate is a Reverse True-born. Random True-borns are when neither of the parents are a Fenerec. The odds of a True-born birth are pretty low even when one or both parents are Fenerec. I’ll look into the last time it happened when we’re home. Hasn’t happened during my time as the Shadow Pope, though. You would have been born during my predecessor’s reign, and I have no recollection of a known instance happening during his, either. Actually, I can’t think of a single instance of a Normal or witch couple having one since the invention of the ultrasound. Desmond?”
“I’ve met one, and that was before the United States was a country.”
I felt my brows rise. “You look like you’re in your mid-twenties or early thirties.”
“So do you. And?”
“How old are you?” I blurted.
“Old enough, puppy.”
Julie growled.
“Quiet, puppy,” Desmond snapped.
The woman obeyed, but she bared her teeth, although she refused to meet Desmond’s yellow-tinged eyes.
“Why don’t you ladies head back to the other cabin for a while? Julie, you can stay if you sit on the couch and stay quiet.”
“No,” Patricia hissed. “Richard gets in trouble without adult supervision.”
Everyone faced the woman from Richard’s pack.
“What? It’s true. If I leave, he’ll get in trouble.”
“She has a point,” Dante said, shrugging.
Desmond sighed. “He has adult supervision.”
“Who?” the woman replied, arching a brow. “Not you. You antagonize him because you think it’s fun to have your daughter try to kill you. Dante and Elliot? They’re instigators, too.”
“Fin
e, you can stay. Rest of you, go get some sleep.” Desmond pointed to the door and waited until the grumbling women filed out the front door. “Eat something, too, ladies!”
Sliding up to me, Amber leaned against the counter, holding her hand out to Richard. The man gave her a cookie. “When was the first time you shifted into a wolf?”
When had been the first time I had shifted? My wolf didn’t care for the passage of time like I did, but we had been young. Not yet an adult, not yet capable of protecting our mother.
My mother hadn’t allowed us to transform for many years, I remembered that much. Every time my wolf had wanted to run free, she had scolded us. We had listened, because we had scented her fear.
How old had I been? The years had slid into one another, and I hadn’t cared too much about them until my mother had died.
“Ten? Thirteen? Not really sure. Mother was pretty strict about shifting.”
“What was the color of your puppy coat?” Amber asked, reaching over to steal a cookie out of Richard’s hand.
“Sorry, what?”
“Your puppy coat color. Before you shed out to your adult coat.”
A silent stare worked on Amber as well as it had on Richard.
“You’ve always been pink? You’ve always glowed?” Amber leaned towards me, narrowing her eyes as she looked me over. “You’re a pretty man, Declan. I’m thinking I’m starting to regret declining your proposal.”
Julie hissed like a cat, and I couldn’t help but laugh at her antics. “What is it with you?”
“You’re completely oblivious, aren’t you?” Richard sighed. “Poor Julie.”
“Oblivious?”
Amber snickered. “She wants to drag you to the nearest bedroom and have her way with you, Declan. She’s rutting early. Use your nose.”
I fell back on my silent stare and used it on Amber, so I wouldn’t have to ask an embarrassing question.
“Surely you’ve had certain urges in the winter, Declan,” Desmond said. “Right?”
“I purposefully avoid civilization for the entirety of winter. I go to my cabin. Oh, Dante. Cabin. You owe me a cabin.”
“I already said I’d get you a line on one. Part of your fee. Richard would probably be glad to host you at his lodge this rut, though. We’ve got a few unmated bitches in our pack. Some Fenerec-born, too. How many is it, Richard? Ten or fifteen? How about you, Sanders?”
“Twelve,” Richard supplied.
“Five in Seattle.”
“Seventeen candidates. Eighteen if we count Julie.”
“You better be counting me,” the woman in question snarled.
I turned to Richard, my eyes wide. “I’m up for sale, aren’t I?”
“Like a stallion. Welcome to life as a Fenerec. Until a lady successfully forms a mating bond with you, you’re a prime piece of real estate. There are a lot more males than females, and females either want really submissive wolves or really dominant males for their mates. They’ll fight to the death over an Alpha-traited male. Fortunately, many bitches will go for a one and done; if the bond doesn’t stick right away, they’ll turn their hunt elsewhere. Some, however, will hunt you until they’re satisfied their failed first few attempts to bond weren’t due to some fluke. Some hunt without making the formal attempt at mating for years. Right, Patricia?”
“The chase was almost as nice as our bonding. I want to be home now in case that wasn’t obvious.”
“We have to deal with the tail first,” Richard replied, smiling at the woman. “I promised I’d get you home safe and sound to your mate.”
“Should’ve brought him with you.”
“His mother would kill me. You want me dead, don’t you? Sophie would murder me if I took her precious baby boy to Europe. That didn’t stop him from wanting to come, but I made him stay with Lisa and Alex to help protect the rest of the pack.” Sighing, Richard picked up the cookie jar and set it on the coffee table. “Both of you ladies sit and eat cookies.”
“He’s not up for sale if I’ve already decided no other bitch will have him,” Julie pointed out. “You should let me have him now, Mr. Desmond.”
“Why are you bringing me into this? I’m not your Alpha yet.”
“You will be.”
“Accepting me as your Alpha so you can sink your teeth into him?”
“Yes.”
I stared at Julie, wondering just what I had gotten myself into when I had quietly let her keep me pinned to the floor in Scallywag’s castle. She was a pretty woman, and my wolf really liked her stubborn pride and aggression.
I had to admit my wolf was right; there was little sexier than a confident, headstrong woman.
Laughing, Richard slid towards me and nudged me with his elbow. “She’s pretty and interested. Very interested.”
Lane cleared his throat. “If you’re not interested in her, Declan, I am.”
There was something satisfying about hissing at the SEAL like a cat.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Exhaustion weighed me down, but with so many werewolves in close proximity, neither me nor my wolf could relax enough to sleep. To make matters worse, I was unwilling to leave Anthony and Lane even with Desmond and Richard on guard.
The presence of three male werewolves should have bothered me more. My wolf wasn’t sure what to make of them, but they were so relaxed around each other I was able to lower my guard a little. I didn’t even mind the presence of the Anderson twins, although something about Elliot made me tense.
I might’ve even enjoyed myself if it weren’t for the fact Julie tracked my every movement, her posture tense and alert. The yellow gleam in her eyes unnerved me more than it did my wolf, although I was aware of his resentment.
We were not prey. In winter, we were the hunter, and we took care with prospective mates. I wanted a woman who could stand with me on equal footing, one who could withstand my wolf’s aggression without fear, and one who challenged me on all levels.
During my days working for the government, it had been easy enough to suppress my wolf’s desire for a mate. To mate, we needed a den. Neither one of us was willing to abandon our future mate or our puppies.
My life didn’t allow for a mate nor puppies. I understood that, as did my wolf.
I had taken to retreating to a cabin in the winter for many reasons. The most important of them was something my wolf and I agreed on: our mate deserved better than frenzied lust, and so did I.
When we mated, it would be with the right woman, and I’d know her long before the winter moons rose. She would like me for who I was, not because of what I was. I would want her for more than being the same species during the mating season.
Resisting the urge to bare my teeth and warn the woman away with a snarl, I retreated to the kitchen. Unlike in the United States, eggs weren’t refrigerated, and there were enough in the basket left for me to work with. If I couldn’t sleep, I’d eat. Eating helped me control my growing unease at the attention of a woman who didn’t know me and showed no interest in learning who I was under the surface.
After a check in the refrigerator and in the cupboards, I decided I had enough leftover ingredients for another batch of cookies. If I couldn’t sleep, I’d bake.
I grabbed the basket of eggs and went on a hunt for the measuring cups.
“Declan, what are you doing with those eggs?” Desmond joined me in the kitchen, perching on one of the stools.
“Using them.”
“Why?”
Instead of answering, I measured ingredients and focused my attention on remaining silent. Maybe the witches and Fenerec knew what I was, but I hadn’t gone undetected for so long growling my displeasure when things didn’t go my way.
“He’s annoyed,” Anthony stated.
I cracked an egg a little too hard and had to fish out shells with a fork. Once again, I ignored Desmond’s questioning stare and opted for silence.
“Enlighten me, please.”
“I already told you.”
It took every bit of my self-control to avoid smirking at my friend’s reply. While I didn’t like repeating myself, either, Anthony sometimes took his dislike of it a little too far. I kept an eye on him, where he was seated safely away from the Fenerec and witches on the other side of the kitchen with Lane.
If he offended someone, I was close enough to intervene.
“Declan?”
Anthony chuckled. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean I wouldn’t push him right now if I were you. He’s baking. If he’s baking this time of day without a reason, he’s annoyed. When he’s annoyed enough he’s fishing out shells from his eggs, it’s really not a good idea to bother him.”
“I’d like to know why.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“There are a lot of us in an enclosed space. Let’s keep the peace.”
“Then tell that lady over there to stop treating him like a piece of meat. I told you, he doesn’t like women, okay? He especially doesn’t like pushy, entitled women who think they deserve to get their way because she’s the opposite gender. If you want him to relax, get rid of the broad.”
Julie rose to her feet, and every muscle in my body tensed. The growl slipped out before I could stop it, and my wolf’s instinct to defend what was ours surged.
Desmond rose, too, and he stared at the woman, showing his teeth. “Sit.”
One moment slipped into the next, and when the woman didn’t obey, Desmond’s posture changed. Sanders and Richard burst into motion. With a curse, Sanders smacked his arm into Julie’s midriff and shoved her down.
Richard collided with Desmond halfway across the sitting room. Despite his small size, Richard got a hold of his father-in-law and held his ground. The two men snarled and growled at each other without words.
“I think I’m going to rethink my approach on which pack gets Julie,” Elliot announced, watching the scuffle from his perch on the arm of the couch beside his twin. “What do you think, Dante?”