Wolf King (Wolves of New York #1) Page 4

  The muscle in her jaw forms a tight little knot before it relaxes as she sighs, “Of course, thank you so much. I appreciate your…” She presses her lips together for a beat before she adds with a tight smile, “forthrightness.”

  I return the smile. “Forthright. Excellent word. I am most certainly direct, blunt some might say. I find it saves time. And what’s more precious than time?”

  She crosses her arms as she says in a cool voice, “I can think of a few things. Human life, for example.”

  “But we aren’t humans, little wolf. The sooner you remember that, the sooner you’ll realize just how lucky you are to still be alive, even if you aren’t getting everything your greedy little heart desires. Sleep well.” I turn and move toward the sitting room, striding through the cozy space to the front entrance to the suite without another word.

  And without looking back.

  Yes, a part of me would like another glimpse of the curvy woman standing by the window, with her pretty mouth hanging open, but I’ve already wasted enough time tonight.

  In four weeks, maybe sooner if her courses start before then, Willow Astor will be out of my life for good.

  Best if I don’t grow any more interested in her than I am at the moment, which is already far too interested indeed.

  Chapter 6

  Willow

  I’m not pregnant.

  I know I’m not. There is absolutely no chance in heaven or hell that I’m going to give birth anytime soon.

  I didn’t have sex with Pax.

  I haven’t, in fact, had sex with anyone. Ever.

  I’m still a virgin. Not because I haven’t had the urge or the opportunity to get naked and horizontal with an interesting man or three, but because virginity until marriage for female pack members was decreed law by my Alpha. And yes, loads of women and girls break that rule, getting around it by being careful with birth control and not getting caught, but my family was already existing on the fringes of Victor’s patience.

  He was looking for an excuse to hurt my father and punish my family.

  I was terrified he’d insist on a physical exam before my mate claiming ceremony, I’d fail, and then he’d torture my father right in front of me before selling me into sex slavery to the creepy vamps that run the bondage club down by the waterfront.

  I’m interested in bondage, but not in fangs and bondage, and I knew I’d never forgive myself if I was the reason my father had to suffer more abuse at Victor’s hands.

  So, I waited. I said no when I wanted to say yes to Devon, my high school boyfriend, and Zeke my best-friend-with-benefits in college. Zeke made me feel oodles of good things with most of our clothes still on, and he swore we’d be careful with birth control. He said no one would be able to say for sure that I hadn’t popped my cherry riding horses or at a gymnastics competition or something when I was a kid.

  But I’ve never ridden a horse and I’m about as “gymnastic” as a tub of Nutella, so I kept my clothes on. Mostly.

  And I’m so glad I did.

  Last night, just as I’d always feared, Victor sent a pack physician to the waiting room before the ceremony.

  There, behind a flimsy screen, while the rest of the women attending the event whispered and gossiped about what a slut I must be in order to require an examination in the first place, the doctor verified my virginity.

  My hymen is still intact, and Pax’s limp grossness wasn’t up for doing anything to change that.

  Therefore, I am absolutely not expecting a baby.

  No way, no how.

  But that doesn’t stop me from imagining that baby and how fiercely I would want to defend it, love it, nurture it, and protect it with my life. It doesn’t stop me from hating Maxim for being a heartless monster who would deprive my sweet little one of his or her mother, just because Maxim can’t be bothered with putting up with me and wants to be the big bad wolf in control of all he surveys.

  He is repulsive. Cold. Cruel.

  And so unbearably sexy that my panties were soaked by the time he left the bedroom last night. Nothing in my personal experience prepared me for the wave of hunger that swept through me as he fisted his hand in my hair and stared down at me like I was a treat he wanted to devour in one bite.

  I have no idea if he felt the attraction, too—or if he was just manhandling me to assert his dominance the way Alpha-holes do—but for me the tension was thick enough to cut with a plastic spork.

  We wouldn’t even need a knife.

  Though I could use a knife right now, to cut these massive hunks of melon into chewable pieces.

  I scrub my hand across my face, blinking as I refocus on my breakfast. I barely slept last night. I was up tossing and turning, my skin tormented by the unbearable softness of the satin sheets and steamy dreams featuring Maxim’s rough hands.

  Maybe I’m just not seeing the knife…

  I scan the table again. Toasted English muffin, butter, jam, yogurt with slivered almonds on top, orange juice, coffee, and a plate with insanely huge wedges of cantaloupe on top, but no knife, just a fork and a spoon.

  “If I wanted to hurt myself, I could do it with a fork,” I grumble to the empty room. “Or a shard of that hideous vase.”

  “It really is awful, isn’t it?” a feminine voice says from the bathroom, making me yip and fall out of my chair in my haste to turn around.

  A silvery laugh fills the air as I scramble back to my feet and spin to see a dangerously pretty young woman in a black sweater and jeans, with stick-straight raven colored hair falling to her waist and big eyes nearly as dark as Maxim’s.

  Her nose is sharp and straight like Maxim’s, too.

  A relative, maybe?

  “Sorry,” she says, sounding sincere. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just going to spy a little and leave, but you’re funny.” She nods toward the bathroom. “That vase is a monstrosity. Aunt Claudia should have her eyes examined. I can’t believe anyone pays her to decorate anything. Ever.” She bobs a shoulder. “But then, my brother never comes in here anyway. Or he didn’t, until last night.” She bites her lip, but the smile she’s trying to suppress bursts through after only a moment or two. “I know he thinks you’re a spy and all that, but I’m dying to hear all the Blood River gossip. And the brother gossip. Is it true he was in here with you until one in the morning? Sit, sit, let’s talk!” She crosses the room, moving past me to settle into the chair across from mine at the small breakfast table. “Tell me everything. You can trust me. I promise. I’m a vault.”

  “I’m Willow,” I say, sounding as flustered as I feel. I settle back into my chair. “Nice to meet you, Vault.”

  She chuckles, soft and husky this time, again reminding me of Maxim. “See. Funny. I like you. About time Maxim had a girlfriend with a little spunk. And a wolf, too, that’s…crazy.” She adds confidentially, “He never dates wolves. Like, ever.”

  “Really,” I say, intrigued. I file that nugget of information away for later, and redirect. “But we’re not dating. I’m his prisoner.”

  She waves a breezy hand through the air. “For now. But he put you up in the consort’s quarters. That means something. Mark my words, you two are going to be an item before Christmas, which is my least favorite holiday, by the way. I don’t like the cold and Santa Claus is so creepy. You two have to couple up and be cute together so I have something to look forward to.”

  I hum beneath my breath. “Well, I’m pretty sure we hate each other and there’s a better chance of hell freezing over. But I’ll take that under consideration, Miss…?”

  She rolls her eyes with a laugh and reaches a slim hand across the table. “Sorry. Diana. Maxim’s little sister. Perpetual thorn in his side. Way more capable of protecting myself and not getting into trouble than most people assume. And better at sneaking around, which I’ve just proven by breaking into your room even though only Maxim is supposed to be able to do that.”

  I give her fingers a squeeze. “Nice to meet you, Diana,” I
say, and mean it. So far, this chatty sprite is a font of interesting information. “Why is Maxim the only one who can get in?”

  Or out, I add silently.

  Because, yes, I did try the front door to my suite last night after Maxim left and was frustrated, but not surprised, to find it locked from the outside.

  “His ring has a keycode inside it,” she says, “like the kind they use at hotels, but it’s not hard to hack those sorts of things, if you know how. Which I do. But I wouldn’t if Maxim let me live my life instead of trapping me in this tower like a tragic, shifter Rapunzel. So really, it’s his fault I’m snooping into his private business right now.” She smiles and adds a little sheepishly, “And yours. If I’m being too pushy, it’s cool to tell me to back off. My feelings won’t be hurt. I’m just so curious. I’ve heard tons of whispering this morning, but everyone shuts up when they see me coming. So, I figured I’d come straight to the source, you know?” She wiggles her thin brows. “So…why are you here? How do you know Maxim? And were you making out with him until one a.m. last night? Only yes or no on that one, no details, because he’s my brother and that would be gross.”

  I briefly explain my predicament, then add, “And no, we weren’t making out. We were arguing about whether or not I should be allowed to stick around and help raise my child if I do happen to be pregnant.”

  “Shit.” She shakes her head, the humor vanished from her expression as she sits back in her chair. “I’m so sorry, Willow. That really, really sucks.”

  I bob a shoulder. “Yeah. It does, but…I’m not sure anything I can say to your brother will change his mind. He seems very stubborn.”

  “He’s impossible, but we will change his mind on this. I’ll make sure of it. If your baby stays here, you stay, too.” Her dark eyes begin to shine. “I lost my mom when I was really young. I don’t remember much about her, but what I do…” She swallows. “Well, those are some of my very best memories. Kids need their mothers. And I can already tell you’ll be a great one.”

  I nod, surprised to find myself getting emotional, too. “Thanks. My mom was…is my hero. I always hoped I’d get the chance to use all the things she taught me with my own babies.”

  Diana’s brows pinch closer together. “Is she sick or something?”

  I shake my head. “No, just…gone. And I’m not sure if I’ll ever get to see her again.”

  “Why?” she asks, then winces. “Sorry, I’m prying again. I can’t help it. Maxim says I have no boundaries. But Dad says I’m just a people person, like him.” Her eyes widen, and she leans in again, adding in a softer voice, “That’s why Maxim’s being such a dick to you, by the way. Someone poisoned my dad last year. He almost died and he’s still not back to normal. He’s super tired all the time and in occupational therapy to learn how to walk and stuff. And he can’t play guitar anymore, which is super sad, because my dad was like…famous.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I say. “I mean, I knew he was a big jazz musician. Jukebox Thorn, right?”

  She beams. “Yeah. His real name’s Jimmy, but everyone calls him Jukebox. Music is his life, except for pack and family, of course. So…it’s been hard.”

  “I can imagine,” I say, reaching over to give her hand a squeeze. “That’s so hard, seeing someone you love struggling. But I honestly had no idea anything had happened. In The Parallel, the gossip was that he handed the pack over to Maxim so he could write a memoir.”

  “Yeah, that’s the story,” she says. “Maxim wanted to keep it super quiet until he could figure out who did it. But so far…not so good. He thinks this guy Shane, a refugee we took in last year, did it, but literally no one else thinks that. Not even Hermione and she’s got great instincts.”

  I pick up my coffee cup only to set it back down again as the meaning of her words penetrates. “Shane? Shane Green?”

  Her eyes widen. “Yeah. Do you know him?”

  “Yeah,” I say, nodding faster. “He’s such a cool guy. He plays guitar, too, and is a phenomenal cook. He used to bring the most amazing dishes to study group. The rest of us were chips and box cookie losers.” I frown. “But he just…dropped off the face of the earth. A little over a year ago. No one had any idea what happened to him.”

  “Um…your mate happened to him,” she says, baring her teeth in a cringe-smile. “Sorry. Should we call him that? Are you guys like…automatically divorced or whatever since you ran away?”

  I lift a cool shoulder and let it fall. “I have no idea. And at this point, I don’t think it really matters. I’m more concerned about whether he’s going to let me live than our marital status.”

  Her eyes darken. “He’s such a monster. Shane was almost dead when we fished him out of the river. He had such a deep wound in his leg, the doctors said he might never walk right again. Apparently, he told Pax to leave his little sister alone at a club one night. Pax and his friends were waiting for him when he left, beat the crap out of him, then stuck his leg in a bear trap and left him to bleed out. It was a miracle he escaped.”

  I push my plate away with a shake of my head, the last of my appetite ruined. “God. That poor man. I don’t suppose he’s still around?”

  “No. He was already gone when Maxim went looking for him. He knew Maxim was super suspicious of outsiders. I bet he saw the writing on the wall and ran. My brother has a reputation for locking people up first and figuring out if they’re guilty or innocent later.”

  I arch a wry brow. “You don’t say?”

  She winces and lets out a sympathetic moan. “Ugh. I’m so sorry. And you didn’t even do anything! I mean, how would he feel if the shoe were on the other foot? What if I ran to another pack for protection after my mate turned out to be an abusive shit and they locked me up and treated me like a criminal?”

  “You might mention that to him,” I say, even though I don’t expect it would make much of a difference.

  Empathy doesn’t seem to be Maxim’s strong suit.

  “I’ll try.” She runs a hand through her long hair with a sigh. “But fair warning he’ll probably ignore me. It’s one of his favorite things to do. But sometimes that works in my favor…” She glances over her shoulder toward the window at the dazzling fall morning outside before turning back to me and adding in a hushed voice, “If we can get him to loosen the leash on you a little, I have friends on the outside who might be willing to help. I’ll have to ask them to know for sure, but… Well, my boyfriend is totally cool and he’s tight with the big cat shifters in Spanish Harlem and their sister pride in Albany. They have an entire division devoted to helping outcast shifters. They don’t usually take wolves, since we’re so annoyingly vengeful and shit, but they might be willing to make an exception if I vouch for you. I mean, my boyfriend’s a panther shifter and I might end up being one of their pride someday, so…”

  I fight to school the surprise on my face, but some of my shock seeps into my tone as I ask, “Really? And Maxim’s okay with that?”

  I mean, I’ve heard some packs in Europe are okay with inter-shifter dating, but on our side of the pond, most Alphas would rather lose a wolf to the street wars than to love outside our species.

  Her eyes go saucer wide. “Of course not. He’d lose his mind if he knew. Like, for real, he would probably murder me and then get a necromancer to bring me back from the dead so he could murder me again.” Her lips curve in a shy smile. “But that’s why I told you, so you’ll know you can trust me. You have a secret on me now. Leverage.”

  “I promise, I won’t say a word.” I motion locking my lips and throwing away the key. I know that should be the end of it, but I can’t help saying, “Though as a new friend who cares about your welfare, I feel it’s my duty to warn you not to make a habit of being so trusting with people you’ve just met. I know I look harmless, but I could be a psycho killer or a spy or one of those people who don’t wash their hands after they pee in a public restroom.”

  She laughs. “Not a chance. You’re a good egg. I can tell.” Sh
e swipes a piece of my melon, chomping off the tip as she adds, “That’s my pack gift. I can read auras. If you were a creep, I would have known the second I walked in the door.” She winks. “But you’re delightful. Your aura is a quite fetching pink and super shiny. But then…all the best people’s are.”

  I grin. “Yours, too, I assume?”

  “Correct,” she says, taking another bite. “So, what’s your pack gift?” She brings her hand to hover in front of her mouth as she chews and talks at the same time, “I mean, if you have one. I know not everyone in your pack does.”

  “Yeah, I’m one of those,” I say with a shrug. “Or at least I think I am. My family never spent much time with our pack. We were outcasts. So, it could be I just haven’t spent enough time around other wolves for my gift to manifest.”

  She crosses her fingers. “Oh, I hope so. That would be cool, to find out you’ve got a little supernatural ace up your sleeve. And a good excuse to get you out of these stupid rooms. Once Maxim learns you need the company of other wolves to help you find your gift, I’m sure he’ll let you out to play.”

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” The low, angry growl from the door leading into the sitting room makes the hairs at the back of my neck stand on end.

  But Diana just smiles. “Nope. I’m making our guest feel welcome. Someone has to show her a little hospitality to make up for you being such a big mean bully.”

  “Get out, Diana,” Maxim snaps, prowling into the room. “Now. And don’t come back. If I see you in here again, every one of your privileges will be revoked.”

  She rolls her eyes as she tosses what’s left of the melon back on the plate. “Oh no, I won’t be able to go to school or violin lessons or on dumb errands for you and Hermione. Whatever will I do with myself?”

  “Out!” he roars, making her flinch. “Now.”