Wicked Wolves, page 26
Real irritation rises inside me. I'm not alone—Henrique gets irritated as well, stepping up beside his mate and puffing up his chest. I look back and forth between the two sides, wondering how I'm supposed to repair the whole pack when I can't even get a tiny splinter of it to start agreeing.
"What this clearing needs is a little flexibility." A voice, light-hearted and carried by the wind, caresses our ears. "Both sides are right, but nothing is gained here by arguing. Especially when your prey is getting further away from you by the second."
Lucian arrives just after his voice, floating on a gust of wind that ruffles his blond hair and tugs up the hem of his shirt. The scent of clean linen and mountain rain accompanies him. As he lands on the ground, he raises his chin, and I feel the influence of his alpha nature surround us.
Around me, the warriors and hunters ripple back to their human forms, coaxed into submission by his power. I follow them, though it feels voluntary to me, as easy as shedding a coat.
Turning to face him, I'm struck by his beauty.
He raises a brow, a clever smile on his face. Leaning in close to me, he says in a low voice, "Let's show them what a god and an omega can do together, shall we?"
I nod, clamping my thighs together on the heat that rises between them and swallowing a submissive whine.
Chapter 70
Rina
It's not that I want his knot, necessarily. Everett was right—having him inside me, tied to me but not claiming me, helped that desire subside. But as Lucian strides into the clearing, his white button-up shirt laying flat against his muscular chest, his ass cheeks pressing against the confines of his perfect slacks, I want him.
I can still remember that kiss in my apartment hallway. The taste of him, bright as springtime.
And I can only imagine how skilled and spontaneous a lover he would be.
I've had a taste of three of the gods—more than a taste of two of them, if I'm honest. It doesn't seem fair that I haven't tasted the God of Wind. I bet he could drive me wild.
I'm not the only one who's struck by him. Our warriors and hunters bend their necks low for him, their eyes cast to the ground.
"We can fix this, you and me," Lucian tells me, stepping up to my side, a tiny breeze carrying his voice to my ear. "They don't know yet what an omega is, but they'll soon learn what it feels like to be influenced by one."
"I don't know how to do that, though."
"You'll learn, with me at your side. Do you want see the power of the wind?"
Thinking of the various ways I've seen the gods use their powers, I shudder. "I do."
"Good, because I was going to show you one way or another."
He slides his hand up to the small of my back and yanks me against his side, making me whine in surprise.
"I can smell the other gods all over you. That sea god covered you in his salty refuse, didn't he?"
I bite my lower lip, wondering what I smell like to him.
"No matter—don't answer." His bright blue eyes flash with jealousy. "What I'm about to show you will make you forget where you end and I begin, and I won't even have to screw you to do it. That'll come later. Then you'll scream for me so loud that your cries of ecstasy will form a hurricane."
He turns towards the pack members before I can answer, beckoning for them to raise their necks. "No need for false submission in front of me. That's for other, less secure alphas. All I want to see is this pack coming together in harmony."
Petra, in her blond human form now, raises her eyes to him boldly. "I want the same thing, al—alpha." She looks shocked to have acknowledged him with the big A word, and scrambles over it. "We just can't seem to get along. Even before everything went... sideways, it's like we were three or four different packs instead of one."
"Four different packs," Lucian says, in a tone that suggests he's speaking to himself more than her. "Now there's an idea."
I look up at him, wondering when I come in.
He clears his voice as he calmly announces, "Your pack has been torn apart. It's difficult to explain how or why, but when the First Alpha that you worship was reborn in the north, it changed things. Now the only way forward is to forge a new pack, as difficult as that may be, but I can help, along with my brothers."
One of the warriors speaks up. "You mean brothers metaphorically, right? Cause last I checked, you're pastier than all the rest of them."
A wry smile crosses his plush lips. "Yes, I do understand that the word doesn't make sense to outsiders, but we are brothers, by bond if not by blood. Centuries spent together will do that to you. If any descendants of my original family still live, I wouldn't be able to pick them out of a lineup."
Now there's a disconcerting thing to consider. Does Lucian have great-great-great grandchildren out there somewhere? Do any of the gods? The thought alone makes me feel such all-consuming jealousy that the forest around me would catch on fire if I had Adar's powers.
"In any case, my brothers aren't needed right here, right now. What you need is to be open-minded, and most importantly," he moves his hand down to mine, clasping our fingers together, "you need to let Caterina influence you. She, and she alone, can rebuild your pack and set things right, if only you let her."
Trent looks about as thrilled at this as you can expect, but his eyes fall to our clasped hands. Though his frown deepens, he nods at the god in acceptance. I sense that he's either going to have to start worshipping a new "First Alpha" or find himself a new pack soon—along with many of the others who no longer fit in.
Because I can't imagine for a single second that I can make someone like him, who loathes me so openly, happily stay in a pack with me. Especially if my rebirth as an omega is what tore him from his mate.
The hunters nod to Lucian as well, and he holds up his free hand in the air like he's about to do a circus trick. When he nudges me, I do the same, though I feel a little silly doing it.
"Show off," he murmurs to me. "We're about to do inexplicable magic. If you don't wave your hands and say things in a booming, theatrical voice, they might not appreciate it."
I laugh a little, which eases the tension in me enough that he's able to draw our powers together. Like today with the wellsprings, I see the world in a whole new light.
Only this time, I'm seeing the bonds in a whole new light. Ever since my rejection-turned-rebirth, I've been able to see them better, more like a typical pack member. But with Lucian's powers flowing into me, I can see them so clearly that it feels like night and day.
There are frayed and torn threads coming from all around Trent. One, which pulses like an open wound, comes right from his heart and must be a broken mating thread. Others lead to his warriors, near and distant, but they aren't strong anymore.
"What Caterina is about to do to all of you is going to change your lives," Lucian announces, and I can see how the sound of his voice, accompanied by his magical powers, stretches out to make the werewolves around us feel soothed and reassured.
"Take note, and try to remember, because you'll be telling your friends and family, your children and grandchildren, about the rise of the great Caterina. How rejection turned her into a strong werewolf, capable of saving the pack. How she saved you, too—how she saved all of you."
I feel embarrassed by his words, but I can see them working. The werewolves around us fall for it hook line and sinker. Hell, I want to fall for it too.
Leaning towards me, he brushes his lips against my ear as he says, "Now is the time, my darling, my wild one. Show them what an omega can do."
A whine leaves my throat as I lick my lips submissively. I want nothing more than to do as he asks. I just don't know how.
"Show me."
"My pleasure."
So, with his help, I dive into the bonds.
And feel things in a whole new way. How the bonds fold into the earth. The ways they feed our land's power, and the land is fed by them in return. They shimmer with power and energy, alive beneath the touch of our magic.
I also feel something... new. And different. Trent feels like he's wrong, as if he belongs in a different pack.
So does one of the other warriors, and two of the hunters. In fact, when I dive into the bonds, I sense that there are four distinct flavors to them, almost like they belong to four packs.
One of the packs tastes like sea salt and rosemary. Another, like clean linen on a Sunday morning. Then there's the taste of campfire smoke, followed by the taste of moss and damp earth.
That last taste is what our wolves feel like the most, including Petra and Henrique, whose fated bond shines brightly. Their connection to our pack, its land, each other, and their fellow pack mates is strong as can be.
I don't understand why, though. So I lean into Lucian and murmur, "There are four different types of bonds among the hunters and warriors. Different flavors, like the elements almost, and not all of them fit. What does it mean?"
He looks over at me, centuries of knowledge in his eyes, and my heart quickens.
Chapter 71
Lucian
Should I tell her? Tell her that this pack is built on lies, that it was never meant to be like this?
There are four packs that once shared this wellspring: the Mountain, River, Sky, and Fury. Each have separated out now and drifted away into land that no longer overlaps, but once, they were four allies who shared strength, warriors, and even mates.
The wellspring that the Mountain Pack now has dominion over was the center of their four-pronged nation. Each pack would trade members who fit better with one of the other elements, keeping their land in balance, while four alphas reigned over them all.
She wouldn't understand if I tell her, though I desperately wish that I could. The need for secrecy grates on me. Even after centuries of life, I'm not used to keeping things to myself.
But if she knew what we plan, what we hope to do with her, she might not go along. And I can't have that. Not when I haven't even gotten to taste her, to knot her and tie her like I desperately want.
It's been a long life as an alpha, without an omega to bury my knot in, without someone to submit to me completely. I'd do anything to have one now, I'll readily admit. Even lie to her.
Though I try not to lie too much.
"Some of the warriors are just better suited for different bonds," I tell her, which is the truth, though not all of it. "Our spell has changed everything, and some of them may find themselves better off... elsewhere, with their fated mates. Or perhaps their mates will join this pack instead. Either way, it doesn't affect what we need to do right here, right now."
She purses her lips, and I get the sense that she sees right through me. That's common enough for an omega—they're clever little things, prone to rebellion. One reason why alphas so violently dominated them in the old world was because they were liable to slip away if given the chance.
I won't do that to Caterina, but I will hold her as close to me as I dare, with clever words and half-truths. Until she's able to handle all of it. Until she accepts that this world needs to be remade, or at least, this pack.
"Let's repair the bonds," she murmurs, turning her eyes back to her pack, which crouches at the ready for her magic. "I want to make sure I know how to do this, since I'm going to have to do it again."
A sigh of relief I didn't know I was holding loosens in my chest. For now, she's accepted what I've told her. I can tell that it'll come back later, though. The strongest omegas are the best at keeping alphas compliant and holding packs together, but they're also the most likely to see through our ruses.
I watch her as she reaches for the bonds, her movements unsure but expert-level. With a quiet, steady voice, she tells the waiting group, "I'm going to help you feel like you're part of the same pack again, so you can make it through this hunt without fighting. After that... I can't guarantee anything. I'm not sure what the future holds. But if there's a fated mate out there for you, I'll find them, and I'll help you heal whatever holes inside your heart are making you cry out for love."
They're sweet words, and they seem to have a calming affect on the warriors. Trent, especially, relaxed considerably. I'm not sure that an asshole like him deserves a girl like our Caterina, but I'm glad that she feels confident enough to declare that she's going to find him love.
She draws the bonds together, reinforcing the ones between the warriors, shoring up their connection to the land. With the four members of the pack who don't quite "fit," as she put it, it takes considerably more effort. I help reinforce her abilities with my magic, infusing the bonds with my flexibility. It's easiest for the two members who are fated to be part of Sky Pack—their weakened bonds respond to my air magic.
Really, this whole farce is ridiculous when you think about it. We should've just told Caterina the whole truth from the start. Thale didn't think she'd accept it, though, and Everett is still looking for another way.
They're both too soft for their own good at times. I know that if the Earth God had his way, he'd just sweep her and the rest of us back into the wellspring to live out our lives separate from the others. He fears the old world, and fears that our presence here on earth again could bring back its violence.
I can't say that he's wrong that we will. If fate has its way and splinters the Mountain Pack, returning it to the four packs of old, there will be death and destruction. The four alphas of the weakened packs we need to take over aren't going to bend the knee lightly. One, at least, must die in order to make room for a new world.
After that? Having an omega on this earth is sure to spell violence. Werewolves far and wide will come for Caterina. I'm certain that the four of us can protect her, as her mates, but I don't know how long our powers will last for. Now that we're not inside the wellspring, it may decide that we're not suited to be its guardians anymore, and yank the magic out of us again.
Those are worries for Future Lucian, though. Current Lucian is standing right here, right now, staring into the delicate face of a brand new omega, the scent of other men and submission on her. All he wants to do is push her down into the earth, tear her clothes off her body, and rut inside her knot and all.
I could do it.
I could make her mine.
Right here, right now.
Chapter 72
Lucian
Ibarely have the self-control to resist. If I knew that she would claim me in return, I'd claim her right now. I'd tie her to me for hours, have my way with her, and sink her fangs into me if I could.
Instead, I just join her on the spiritual plane. Her movements with the threads are clumsy but effective. With my help, she gets the hunters and warriors to reconnect, not just to each other but to the pack itself.
She soothes their four different natures the way an omega in the old world would. It's like she is Fern, but without the star-crossed love or tragic ending. She even plucks on the fated mate thread connected to Trent, calling on his mate to come from wherever he or she is to discover his existence and hopefully quell him.
When it's done, the pack members look around with renewed vigor as the land itself blossoms beneath them.
"So?" Trent looks over at Petra and Henrique. "Do we hunt together?"
"Yes." Petra raises her proud chin. "Together, with the hunters in formation and the warriors at our back to protect us. The god and... Caterina can join us as well, if they wish."
With that solved, we change to our wolf forms and hunt together with her pack. As our paws hit the ground, the scent of a deer herd hits my nose, and my blood rises. We rush towards the hunt, trailing the end of the hunters, who are keen-nosed and energetic, despite the fact that their modern wolf forms are much, much smaller than my alpha form.
I deliberately hold back, and I can sense Caterina doing the same. As we turn the corner and slow down, she startles, looking back and forth at the hunters around her.
I've never been this fast before, she tells me, her telepathy easing into my mind. My new wolf form is strong.
You sound surprised.
I am. I've never been as fast or strong as the other wolves. And even this new form is small, smaller than all of them.
I shake my head at this, hating how the world has treated her. You shouldn't be surprised. Wolves of old were stronger than modern werewolves, including the omegas. What you lack in size you make up for in swiftness and vitality.
Feeling the surge of pride in her, I remind myself to tell her everything I can about how special she is. If the others haven't bothered, that's on them. Someone should murmur sweet nothings into her precious omega ears and repeat over and over again that she's the best of us, better than every werewolf that's ever lived.
We let the pack take down the first deer. Petra makes the first blow, but Trent finishes it off with a killing blow. The hunters howl their delight, tails swishing excitedly.
My ears prick as I hear something. The hunt isn't over—in fact, it's barely begun. We're at the cusp of spring, and the stags are in fine form. I smell one just behind us, right before it rushes into the clearing, bellowing and slashing its hooves.
Watch out!
Swiftly intercepting the stag, I leap onto its shoulders and sink my fangs into its neck. At the same time, I summon the wind, using my powers to drag it down to the ground. It thrashes its head, horns nearly taking out Henrique, who twists away just in time.
Once I have it on the ground, weakened and kicking uselessly, Caterina leaps into the fray. She slashes with her claws and sinks her teeth into its belly. In one smooth move, she disembowels it, and I tear its neck arteries open for good measure.
Moments later, the stag is gone, and the threat with it. We take a breather, then all shift back to our human forms. Blood is sprayed on my chest and arms, and across Caterina's mouth and belly, her legs dripping red.
Striding to Caterina, I gather her in my arms and kiss her passionately. The pack whoops around us. Our scents mingle in the air, her omega perfume joining with my alpha scent and the tangy smell of blood.
