by Gwen Rivers
North lifted his chin proudly. “I am Russian.” It was explanation enough.
Nic and Aiden exchanged bemused glances.
“Well, I was Russian. What am I now though? No longer a man, no longer the North Wind. No longer a servant or a guardian.”
Aiden’s dark brows drew together thoughtfully. “Technically, you’re a sylph. An air spirit. Not tied to an element anymore.”
That wasn’t what he’d been asking. “I mean, what will I do now?”
Nic shrugged. “Be whatever you want to be. Go where you want to go. I’ll keep working on it, see if we can’t get you all the way back to mortal.”
He blinked at her. “You would do that?”
She grinned. “After all the times you saved my bacon?”
“Thank you, moya Koroleva.” He bowed low to her, wishing he could take her hand and press his lips to it.
Nic rolled the words around in her mouth. “What did you call me?”
It was Aiden who answered. “My queen.”
“But I’m not a queen,” she said. “Not anymore.”
North and Aiden exchanged knowing glances.
“You explain it to her.” North said and then launched himself up into the air.
He could still fly. He could talk to his queen and he had saved a werewolf.
Be whatever you want to be. Nic’s words filled his ears.
He wanted to be with them. His people.
His pack.
“I was wondering if you could use an assistant,” North said to Liam.
They were back in the PR, in Liam’s office.
The wolf had been standing over his desk staring down at the mess of papers there. “An assistant?”
“The dark fae that stole the weapons. There are those who have escaped, da? Wouldn’t your time be better served hunting them down than attending to trivialities?”
When Liam still didn’t look convinced, North pushed.
“Batman has Alfred. Let me be your wing-sylph. Someone has to keep your wolf hide in line, hose you down at night after you come skulking back here smelling of sex and cheap perfume.”
Liam raised a brow. “This is how you go about getting a job?”
“I am Russian.”
Amusement lit the Alpha’s mismatched eyes. He looked down at the mess on his desk. “How are you with paperwork?”
“I am Russian. Order is everything.” North shifted himself. He had discovered several interesting things in the days since the guardians were freed. He had more trouble maintaining a visible presence on this side of the Veil, but he could possess things.
A desk, a phone. A werewolf.
He shifted into the desk lamp and read, then moved himself into the manila folder stack where he sorted each one into three piles. He possessed the shredder and got rid of the unessential and then left two piles stacked neatly on Liam’s desk before returning to his male presence.
“The ones on the left are urgent. The ones on the right, not so much.”
“Efficient.” Liam murmured.
“I do not come cheap, volk.”
Liam tilted his head. “And what’s your price?”
“I wish to know why you do not enjoy sex.”
Liam blinked. “I don’t see how that is any of your business.”
“It isn’t. But I have been watching you since moya Koroleva brought you home. Why continue to do something that doesn’t bring you pleasure?”
Liam scrubbed a hand over that mangy beard. “Honestly? I don’t know why I don’t enjoy it.”
“Perhaps you would prefer the company of males,” North suggested.
“It isn’t that. The women I pick up, I keep thinking they don’t know me. They don’t know anything about my life. And that’s intentional. I don’t have any time for a real relationship. Not with the pack and the PR. I am on-call 24/7 have to be ready to go at a moment’s notice. Human women aren’t going to put up with that. So it’s always just about sex and it feels…empty.
“I keep doing it because… well, after living as a wolf, I went without for so long. When we came here, that was all they did in their downtime. It made me feel like shit, like I had cooped them up and denied a basic part of their nature. So I go out and find a few willing women and go through the motions. It helps me remember that I am more than the wolf I’d been for decades.”
North stared at him. The Alpha who wasn’t the alphahole he pretended to be.
He was a big part of the reason why North had stayed.
North nodded. “Well, from what I have seen, you have nothing more to prove. So stop being such a manwhore. No one will think less of your virility. Wait until you find the right one. The mate you are so desperate to find.”
“I am not desperate for a mate.” Liam protested. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”
“You don’t make time for a mate. A mate becomes your time. Don’t believe me, look at your uncle, the lucky stiff. And one more thing.” North shifted to wind and inhabited the item he needed. It floated down from Liam’s bathroom and through the open window.
Liam’s mismatched eyes went wide.
The razor plopped down on the desk with a thud.
North appeared before him and offered a sweet smile. “Either you shave off the chin pubes, or I’ll do it for you while you sleep.”
~The End~
About the Author
Gwen Rivers is the changeling of a USA Today bestselling mystery author. When not writing urban and rural fantasy with kickass heroines, you can find her poring over Norse mythology, dicing with the Fates, cavorting with werewolves or hunting for fairy wine in the deep, dark woods.
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Also by Gwen Rivers
Savior’s Spell (Book 1 of the Spellcaster series)
The Goodnight Kiss (Book 1 of The Unseelie Court series)