Filed to story: The Wolf Prince’s Fated Love
“Are you even listening?”
“My apologies, did I miss a question?” I pushed all the contrition I had into my voice, but she still wasn’t appeased, shoving her chair back and standing, arms crossed, before the whistle even blew.
She glared angrily across the crowd, eyeing her next match and pointedly ignoring me. Thankfully, within a few seconds, Gracelyn blew her little dictator’s whistle, and I proffered a hand. She was reluctant, but she shook it anyway, digging in her nails a bit too hard.
“It was nice talking with you, Kaley,” I murmured, already glancing over her shoulder to see who Brielle was shaking hands with.
“It’s Kylie, you asshole. I’ll be notifying my Alpha of your rude behavior.”
I couldn’t argue, and didn’t try as she walked off, already beaming a megawatt smile at the wolf to my left. I was ninety-percent sure that she’d told me she was a member of the Northern Territories Pack, which tracked. They were the most aggressive she-wolves I’d encountered so far. Yet for all her offense at my behavior, she’d come to meet me reeking of their Alpha wolf, Vance.
The next she-wolf walked up, and I could smell the fear rolling off her, the emotion a sharp, sour smell polluting her normal… daisy? Petunia? I couldn’t tell. It was floral and sour, and I had to resist the urge to sneeze. At least that I could blame on allergies.
“Hello, I’m Alpha Kane. It’s nice to meet you,” I said.
She quivered, but didn’t respond.
“And you are?” I inclined my head, attempting to get an answer, but the poor, nervous woman bolted straight for the door, not looking back.
I could feel Reed’s amused cackle over the pack bond, and I cut my eyes his way in annoyance. He was only a few seats away from his turn with Brielle, and I had to bite back a jealous glare. It wasn’t his fault. I’d made sure one of my men was on her row for every turn. I hadn’t made it myself, but they were the next best thing.
So long as they didn’t touch her.
My wolf’s hackles rose, and for a moment, I mistook the sudden motion as a reaction to the idea of my pack mates touching my mate.
Not our mate, calm down.
Of course, my eyes rolled back to Brielle like stubborn magnets, pulled to her like the planets are pulled toward the sun. Constantly, irrevocably. And what I saw made my muscles feel like molten lead, hot and burning and ready to lunge. Shane Russo. Brielle had just approached his table, and he was smiling at her, leaning forward and motioning to the seat with a barely hidden leer.
I growled, low in my throat, unable to control the sound. His eyes flicked my way briefly-we were all wolves; no one within a fifty-foot radius was unaware I was angry, despite the low volume-and I saw a glint of interest and, dare I say, glee spark in their unholy depths as he turned his full attention back on Brielle.
Mine!
Not his!
my wolf demanded, pacing angrily for a second before clawing at the ground and sending dirt flying everywhere. It took all my will, my many years of practiced control, not to shift on the spot. I realized after a few rounds of deep breaths that my fingernails had shifted to claws, and I was digging holes into the wood table in front of me with how hard I was clutching it.
Forcing my hands off the defenseless table, I sucked in a deep lungful of the timid female’s waning sour petunia scent, but it did nothing, absolutely nothing, for my wolf.
Or my calm.
Because she wasn’t my mate.
Brielle was. And the time I’d spent denying it? Her weakness, the fact that she pushed me away, the fact that it was too soon… the fact that I wasn’t damn well ready for a mate yet?
None of it mattered. Because what my wolf knew, I could no longer deny when I could feel it down in the marrow of my bones.
She. Was. Mine.
My wolf flung back his head and howled at my agreement.
A tinkling laugh filled the room, dragging my attention back to Brielle. Her back was to me, but I could see her shoulders shaking lightly and the cocky smile on Russo’s face. My hands began to shake as the acceptance rolled through me like a wave of burning awareness. Her scent. Her proximity.
I stayed in my seat, riveted by the sight of her, even from behind when she wasn’t aware I existed. Her gorgeous, shining, russet hair. The delicate line of her neck.
My fangs descended, the urge to mark her lush, perfect skin and claim her a physical need. One that I could absolutely, under no circumstances, give in to. Here, in a public hall.
I was going to white-knuckle it through this activity and ask to speak with her like a civilized man, not a feral rogue.
We already had one of those to deal with. I couldn’t become the second.
That thought sobered me slightly, allowing my claws to finally retract. Reed’s brother Dirge had suddenly gone feral two summers back. Nobody knew why, as he’d stayed in fur this entire time and wouldn’t let anyone near him-in human or wolf form-despite Reed’s monthly attempts to communicate with him.
I was too powerful to get anywhere near that ledge. With as much dominance as I had… I could wipe out entire towns. In the modern world, that would be a disaster the likes of which had never been seen before. Dirge was only kept close by the presence of another, more dominant wolf. If I lost it…
I shook the thought from my head. I would deal with this, with her, today.
Gracelyn blew a short blast on her whistle to signal the end of this round, and I stood, grateful for a reprieve. It wasn’t ideal watching Brielle work her way down a line of other men, but at least she’d be away from the Russo mutt.
A strawberry-blonde she-wolf in a long, billowy skirt approached my table, and it took everything in my power to offer her a passable smile.
“Hi, Alpha Kane. I’m Bianca. It’s nice to meet you.” She stuck out her hand for a shake first, and a small part of me admired her directness. She wasn’t my mate, but she’d be a good match for another dominant male here, I had no doubt. Perhaps I’d mention her to Reed. He needed someone to take his sharp edges off.
A gasp, soft as a whisper, sent my hackles rising and my teeth baring as I looked past Bianca to where Brielle had stood to leave Shane’s table.
They’d had to shake hands-it was part of the exercise-but he’d taken it a step further. When he’d come around the table for the shake and she’d offered her palm, he’d used it to drag her against his chest. She was wide-eyed and raised her hands as if to push herself back off him, but she didn’t make it that far before my wolf tore himself out of my skin.
TEN
Brielle
There was a brief tearing sound, then the hall filled with snarls, and a blur of fur and glinting teeth came barreling straight toward me. No, not toward me-toward him, Shane. He had crossed about twelve lines when instead of just accepting the amicable handshake required for the activity, he’d snatched me into his chest.