Filed to story: The Wolf Prince’s Fated Love
“We should go,” Ilana whispered, sparing a reverent glance toward her father, whose hands were now lifted as he stared into the clouds. One by one, we followed her down the path, each wrestling with this new information in our own minds.
After the shaky
Brielle was taken to her shared room with Kane and our hostess excused herself to handle pack business, the rest of us had nothing to do for the rest of the evening.
Shay looked down at me, a crease between her eyebrows. “Would you like to go for a run? Sometimes, when things get too heavy, I need to run them out of my system.” The sadness around her was palpable, her sweet scent soured by a tinge of decaying rose. Sickly, and it made me want to sneeze in this form.
I dropped down on my front paws, wagging my tail in the universal sign for let’s go. She laughed before turning her back and quickly shucking the borrowed clothing. In seconds, her beautiful brown wolf appeared, pouncing on me. We rolled head over tail for a few feet, yipping and barking before taking off into the woods.
She led the way, and I followed, nipping playfully at her heels as she dodged between the trees. Every now and then, she’d cut a tight turn and send a clod of dirt flying into my mouth.
But my wolf didn’t mind. All he felt was free, and happy to be with her. By the time we finished running, all the worry was gone, and only contentment remained in its place.
TWENTY-THREE
Shay
Arun was exactly what I needed to clear my head, and doing it with Dirge was somehow better than running alone. In the past, I’d always enjoyed being alone. It never bothered me because people-outside a very select few-were dangerous.
But being with Dirge filled a hole I hadn’t known I carried inside, lent me an air of safety even as we tore through unfamiliar surroundings. When my sides heaved with effort and the sun sank below the horizon, we turned back for the guesthouse where we were staying.
I shifted back to let us into our room and dropped my abandoned shoes inside the door. Dirge waited while I showered, humming to myself as I scrubbed out the shampoo and then slathered on the conditioner. Thoughts whirled through my mind like little tornadoes, each new line of thought demolishing something in its wake. The news about Brielle was heavy, and I knew tomorrow, when she was feeling better, we’d need a plan. But despite that, all I could think about was the pitcher of spiced wine waiting next to my bed and what I wanted to say to Dirge tonight.
What I wanted to ask him.
How I’d feel if I didn’t like the answers he had for me. It was enough to make me shiver under the warm deluge of water, so I quickly rinsed and got out.
I felt uncharacteristic nerves as I slipped on a black sleep set, the soft material making me tremble as it caressed my skin. I couldn’t help thinking about the set dream-Dirge had destroyed last night as I fingered the hem and turned out the bathroom light. I checked the stainless-steel water bowl I’d set out for him in the bathroom and then walked into the bedroom.
It was silly to be nervous now, when I’d been naked and writhing under the man last night, but I was anyway. So I did what I always did when my mind was racing: I pulled a little speaker from my bag and set it on the bedside table. Once my phone was connected, I flipped to one of my favorite pieces. As the plaintive piano notes of
Gymnopedie No. 1
slowly filled the empty air around us, I fluffed up some pillows and leaned back on the bed. Deciding to just go for it, I poured the spiced wine into a regular glass cup from the bathroom and took a deep swallow before patting the bed next to me for Dirge to jump up.
He did smoothly, barely making a ripple in my wine as he settled next to me, laying his head gently across my stomach.
I listened to the familiar piano in contented silence, sipping the wine and playing with the soft, shorter fur on top of his head. Somewhere around the third full glass, my tongue began to loosen, and I found myself talking to him as I stroked.
“I was a foster kid. I know that’s weird for a shifter. Usually, your pack takes care of you, even if your parents die. It happens, right? But I never knew my parents. I don’t know if they’re dead, or if they abandoned me, or hell, I could be a half-breed, even. An accidental kid left behind after a one-night stand.” I snorted, the absurdity of not knowing where I’d come from striking me as funny in my half-drunk state. I poured another refill. Best to get fully drunk, the way this was going.
A drop sloshed over the edge of the cup, trailing like blood down my hand. But before I could wipe it away, Dirge’s tongue swept out and licked it away, the warm sandpapery feeling making me giggle.
“Don’t feel sorry for me, though. Not for that. If you want to feel sorry for something, I would be sorry about the human trafficking. Well, no. Actually, I don’t want to talk about that. Those guys…” I tipped the cup up, draining half of it in a single chug.
“Did you know I learned to play piano in the public school’s band class? Once I’d found the pack, I had to catch up on school. I was behind on so many things, but the music just made sense right from the start. I play three instruments proficiently and half a dozen more passably. One day, when my career takes off, I’m going to have the fanciest music studio you’ve ever seen. All that state-of-the-art stuff I drool over in the catalogs.” I swirled the cup of wine, staring down at the bits of green I could see floating in it. It sounded gross on the surface, but I didn’t mind it. It was earthy and rich, and paired well with the natural sweetness of the wine. “DJing has always been a temporary plan, but it pays the bills until I can sell some of my compositions.”
Unsurprisingly, Dirge didn’t answer as he watched me drink. It still felt nice to talk to him, though.
“I am going to have a headache tomorrow, I have no doubt. But I’d like this conversation to be less one-sided, so, bottom’s up.”
After I drained the fourth cup of spiced wine, I set the cup down, hoping that was enough. Drowsiness was trying to drag me under, even as I fought to keep my eyes open.
“They got what was coming to them,” I confessed to the top of Dirge’s head as I curled around him, slipping into the soft embrace of sleep.
I couldn’t say how much time passed before my eyes popped open. I was sitting on the edge of my bed, wearing the same black pajama set I’d gone to sleep in, but a quick glance back showed my body still curled around a wolf. But I couldn’t think too hard about the weirdness of that, because a grinning human-Dirge was sweeping me off the edge of the bed and straight into his arms.
“Hello, beautiful,” he said, his cocky grin giving way to a soul-searing kiss. I resisted the urge to wrap myself around him and get a repeat dose of last night’s orgasmic bliss, but only barely. Shoving at his shoulders, I created some space between us.
“Hold on, lover boy. We need to talk.”
He smiled again, only half his mouth curving up in a devilish invitation. God, I wanted to taste those lips every day until I died. He was pure sin walking, and even as I knew better, my blood thrummed with heat. One look! I was pathetically easy if that was all it took.
But damn, it was a good look.
“Why don’t we talk after. Wouldn’t want to waste a good dream, after all.” He tried to kiss me again, but I swatted him on the shoulder. He just laughed and dropped his lips to my shoulder, trying to tease the strap of my tank top to the side without me noticing.
“I’m serious. And this isn’t a dream, not really.”
That froze him in his tracks. He lifted his head, eyes glowing slightly with the influence of his wolf. “What do you mean?”
“I mean the Athabascan pack has a special herb blend that makes you dream walk. This is… really us. Mostly.” I waved toward our bodies still on the bed, and his expression grew solemn. “I want to know why you won’t shift back.”
He jerked like I’d slapped him. “But I bit you last night. If this isn’t a dream…” He tipped my head gently to the side, baring the side of my neck where he’d sunk his teeth into my skin the night before. “Shit! You’re marked. You’re still marked.” He let go of me, backing up a step with a tortured expression and raking both hands through his long black hair.
“Don’t be silly. I checked when I woke up, and…” My fingers felt the evidence on my neck, tidily healed scar tissue in the shape of his bite. My flesh felt real and solid, despite the fact that I was outside my corporeal body. “What the hell?” I whispered, looking up at him in shock.
“I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I- No, no. I thought it was a dream. Shay, you have to believe me. I’d never mark you without your consent if I knew-” He backed up until he hit the wall, his eyes closing in abject horror.
“Shh.” I stepped into his personal space, grabbing his arms and pulling them down to my waist before he could do something truly regrettable, like rip out all that gorgeous hair. Pulling it was my self-appointed job as of yesterday.
The memory of what we’d been doing when I pulled that hair sent a bolt of liquid heat straight to my core. Damn, I was horny. But I needed to focus.