Little Red (Not Quite the Fairy Tale #5) (2 page)

What intrigued him wasn’t her appearance – not only that, in any case. It was the fact that the first time, she’d come out of a bookstore, and the second, of an outdoor sport outlet.

He wanted to know a lot about her – the titles of the books in her brown bag, what kind of sport she practiced, the taste of her red lips – but what he really needed was her name.

Next time, he swore. Next time he saw her, he’d ask.

Chapter Two

An Ultimatum

The morning wasn’t off to a great start, but he was used to coming back from the palace with a headache and a niggling, annoying little voice in his head telling him that Mimi wasn’t exactly wrong – his mum and dad had been dead before hitting thirty-five, and he was thirty-one now. It was past time he found a potential wife. Perhaps he should organize a party and pick one; it had certainly worked out for Dane de Luz.

Or he could just mention that girl in the red riding hood to Mimi; he was pretty sure his grandmother could and would track her down.

Of course, there was the possibility that she might already been attached. Women who looked like her usually were.

By the time he made it back home and attacked his workload, Chase was irritated, but not quite concerned yet. The real problem only started after lunch, when his PA informed him that Aiden Archer wanted a chat.

“You’re kidding, right?” he asked, five minutes into the conversation. 

It wasn’t the first time that Chase heard of the Jereenan’s complaints: every single month, they sent a petition right to his desk. Chase had ignored it; uncharacteristic, but their claim had just been preposterous.

Now Jereena threatened to forbid access to every trade route passing through their borders, unless the problem was resolved.
Exactly
what a kingdom known for the skills of its artisans needed. They exported most of their trades to Alenia, by train or lorry – and the railway as well as the motorway passed right through Jereena: that embargo would carve a colossal dent in their economy in no time.

On the other end of the phone, Adrian sighed.

“Look, I have a petition with over
thirty thousands
signatures, Chase. I can’t ignore that,” the newly crowned King told him.

Great. Just freaking perfect.

“What the heck can I possibly do when I have
never
seen one single wolf in the woods? Never.”

Chase lived in Crystalia, to the despair of the Queen, who would love nothing more than having him at the palace, right under her thumb everyday – that meant that he had to frequently travel from the city to the royal dwelling, passing right through the Southern Woods; he took the very road every Jereenan trader was complaining about on a weekly basis, at least, and he had yet to encounter any sort of issue.

Frankly, Chase was very fond of his wild, untamed woods; razing them, as some of the traders suggested, was out of the question. Not without a valid, undisputable reason, in any case.

“Mate, just throw me a bone. I have the entire merchant guild breathing down my neck about this one; I have to do
something.
”

Chase sighed out loud. It wasn’t like he didn’t know the rules of the game. Regardless of their political views and their public differences, he and Aiden had played in sandboxes, along with Dane of Alenia; he’d dropped everything to attend his bachelor party two months prior and he knew without a doubt that the King of Jereena would do the same for him when he finally got hitched.

But he also knew Aiden
would
close his borders, just like he’d threatened to, if his subjects demanded it. It was nothing personal.

“Ok, how about a show of good faith? Name a few representatives from your merchant guild, as well as some of your soldiers – I’ll personally accompany them for a stroll through our woods. If any issue arises,” which he doubted, “I’ll take care of it. Deal?”

And thus, with one little suggestion, one hasty decision, Chase Hunter changed his life.

It wasn’t the first time Lana found herself cornered by a guy demanding her submission; in fact, it wasn’t even the first time today.

Note to self: don’t use that cranberry shampoo again. It obviously attracts idiots.

With a bored huff that would have been a sigh if she’d been in her human shell, her wolf broke the dumb bloke’s hold and jumped up, ignoring any pain when he clawed at her flesh; she landed on his back and sank his teeth deep in his neck until he yelped and rolled on his back.

Then, she shifted; the bone breaking process wasn’t exactly what one would call pleasant in everyone else’s opinion, but Lana had never minded it – she did it more often than any other wolf, which was why instead taking a good half minute, her change from wolf to human didn’t last longer than the fraction of a second.

Most Wilderlings were naked after the change, but Lana had worked her ass off until she’d made enough money to pay a fay for spelled clothing. Lana was no prude, but most of the other enforcers were male and she’d been gifted with a set of assets they never failed to leer over, so it had seemed like a good investment.

Turned out, Rumpelstiltskin had just wanted a moonstone from the heart of her territory, rather than the pile of gold she’d amassed by taking seventy night shifts in a row. She hadn’t exactly complained, but what the hell did he want with a common rock?

Fays were weird.

So now, when she turned, she was wearing her long riding coat, over shorts and a comfortable brassiere.

She’d asked for a black ensemble, but after learning her name, the annoying fay had simply refused to produce the coat in any shade but blood red.

“Don’t sweat it, honey,” she told the guy whining at her feet, “You’re not the first idiot who got his ass handed.” 

In fact, he was the ninety-seventh.

That left fourteen single dominant males who hadn’t attempted to force her in the entire pack. No one had the right to try after she’d beat them once so, soon enough, she’d be free from their attention. There was no doubt in her mind that the others would try their luck, and soon – except one, perhaps. Tarik was marginally more civilized than the rest of them, so she had hopes.

Lana wasn’t against mating per-se, it was all well and good for other wolves; she just didn’t think she could ever function with a male trying to boss her around. Other Wilderling females grew up under the authority of their parents, the authority of their enforcers, the authority of their Alphas; it was only natural to welcome the authority of a mate, later.

Lana wasn’t even remotely into that lifestyle. Mary, her mum, was awesome: she’d always been her friend, first and foremost. She didn’t order her around without justification; she generally told her stuff, and asked for her opinion afterwards.

Moreover, the Alpha female knew that she was only holding her position because Mary allowed it: her mum could have challenged her and won while wearing a muzzle and a blindfold. For fear of pissing Mary off, the Alpha had never pushed her authority on Lana, even in her youth. Now, she still didn’t, because she realized that, just like Mary, Lana could take her any day.

So her childhood had been relatively free of the iron clout everyone else in the pack was submitted to. Then one year ago, when she’d turned twenty-one, Lana had become an enforcer, which meant that the only authority she had to bow to was the Alpha male’s.

She liked it that way, and any dominant male she knew would have a thing or two to say about a mate who challenged them on a daily basis. She could pair up with a sub, but frankly, it was doubtful that any peaceful, passive character would want someone like her.

Strangely, her wolf wasn’t pushing any mating urges on her. She wasn’t interested in submissives and the dominants were beneath her notice; she was too strong to desire any of them.

“You’re problem is that you’re a romantic,” Jaya, her best friend, told her when she explain that Pierce had tried his luck with her earlier that day.

Lana raised one single brow, amused.

“Say what you would about dominance; if what you wanted was control, you’d just challenge Kenna,” she said, referring to the Alpha female. “What you want is a mate you
like.
”

She contemplated those words for a while; she’d never considered that possibility.

Lana didn’t like most of the single males in the pack, not even platonically. They were bestial, brutal, arrogant, and worse yet, uneducated. That last bit was the huge turn off. There were exceptions, such as a funny guy she’d remembered from her youth, but he’d died during their war with Jereena. He’d been fond of music, bad jokes, and damn, could that man
cook.

Some guys were ok, admittedly, like Tarik, a fellow enforcer. He had an irresistible self-depreciative humor, and more charms that your average fluffy pup. He entertained her, but…

“It’s all those books you read.”

Jaya had nailed it. Lana was guilty of devouring any romance book she could put her paws on and she’d just never felt any signs of the kind of attraction she’d read about... Not for a fellow Wilderling in any case.

She might have believed it didn’t exist in real life – after all, her books were fictitious – but she
had
seen someone she was attracted to.

He held himself very straight – no slumping for him – and looked at everything around him with an unwavering focus, assessing values and flaws.

The man often came to the woods and walked to the river; sometimes, he swam – naked – sometimes, not. She preferred when he did.

The first time she’d seen him had been a shock to the system.

She was used to hunky naked mountain of muscles, but his leaner frame seemed just as powerful, and was point bank drool worthy. She’d wanted to run her finger on his shoulders, and follow a trail down to his small waist. She’d wanted to present her throat and have him dominate her.

The sudden and completely new need was so raw it had shaken her to the bone.

Then, she’d felt Tarik next to her. She’d turned with a snarl, ready to pounce.

There was a clear law about intruders. They were supposed to kill any Jereenan on sight, as a payment for banishing them from their lands.

It was rare that anyone wandered through the woods by foot – normally, they drove there, and it was easy to determine where they were from by looking at their plates. They let rentals and Enomian cars pass. The rest tended to somehow end up in a ditch.

Lana didn’t like that rule, but when the Alpha had ordered its enforcement, she'd looked it up, only to find it clearly written in their antique code of conduct. Who was she to questioned an old age adage? Regardless, she knew that if Tarik intended to hurt the man, she would have fought him. Her instinct confused and annoyed her, but her feelings didn’t change her resolve. No one was touching a strand of his wavy dark hair.

Her usually friendly wolf growled in agreement.

“He’s back, then,” her comrade said.

Lana calmed down; if he’d already been left unarmed, he wasn’t a target.

“Does he come often?”

She tried to sound casual, but Tarik broke into a knowing grin.

“No wonder you’re not into any of us poor common folks. You prefer blue bloods. Well, I guess you’re a princess, too, so we’ll let it slide.” Seeing her confusion, he clarified: “That’s Chase Hunter, heir of Enom.”

Chapter Three

Daydreams

Lana had managed to prevent herself from day dreaming after that. It wasn’t like an actual Prince might ever give
her
a second glance.

As the Alphas didn't have children, she was still viewed as the pack princess by most of her people, but that meant nothing outside of their borders. A pack princess’s job was to ensure that the vulnerable wolves were cared for; the young, the recluse, the wounded who didn't feel comfortable appealing to the Alphas came to her. There was no tiara, no fanfare about it. She was pretty sure the Prince of an actual kingdom was after a docile distressing damsel, and she had too much sense to even fantasize about what ifs… but she wanted to find that kind of attraction again. That was why she didn’t fuck her way through the attractive single males; but was it why she didn’t want to mate?

Possibly. Probably.

“Ok, yes. I want to like my mate. Hell, I’d like to
love
my mate. There’s no one I see that way here, and I’d prefer to be alone than matched against my wishes. Is that wrong?”

“Honey,” Jaya smiled sadly, reaching out to push some of Lana’s raven black mane, “It really, really isn’t. You want more than what we have, and it’s fine. We all do, deep down. We wouldn’t fight Jereena every century or so, if it wasn’t the case.”

She had a point.

The Wilderling territory was by no mean a horrible place to live; long ago, after they’d been run out of their homeland, one of their Alphas had managed to convince Persephone to create their haven, right in the middle of the woods, through a portal no one could cross without being invited to by a member of the pack. The goddess had made it a beautiful evergreen world anyone would have been proud to call home, and they’d lived there for three millennium.

The problem wasn’t where they were, it was how cut off from the rest of the world their heavenly bubble had been. They had electricity because they’d bought generators, but internet was a no-go. Kids were homeschooled, by parents who’d stopped studying at twelve to take on their place within the pack; that didn’t make them stupid at all, but their understanding of the world around them was limited. And… Lana didn’t allow herself to wonder how many amongst them were inbred; the very thought made her shudder.

There were exceptions; some Wilderlings had branched out and gone to various human cities – but they lived without a pack, something their wolves hated. Lana’s mother had been one of those, until she’d met her father, the old Alpha.

Many amongst them saw taking Jereena back as the way to change their future; Lana begged to differ. All they needed was to be recognized and accepted, just like the elves who’d peacefully carved their place a few months back.

That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon; not under these Alphas’ reign. Like many before them, they ensured that everyone conversed in the old Jereenan tongue, rather than in the common language used throughout the rest of the world, and they’d outlawed shifts in front of humans. Breaking that law resulted in the death of both the human and the criminal.

It was fucking stupid. They needed to shift into wolves, shift back, and say “See? I’m normal.” That was all it would take.

Mary had ensured Lana was schooled in Crystalia. She’d learnt the common tongue, and she’d made plenty of friends she was still in touch with, catching up whenever her phone could get some signal. Her friends knew she was weird, that she growled when she was displeased, and that her eyes changed  shade, and they didn’t care, because they also knew that she was fiercely protective, loved to dance and could eat her weight in chocolate. She’d socialized.
That
was the way they’d take over the world, not with their fangs and claws.

“Have you thought about leaving the pack? I mean, it’s hard on us, by nature, but you’re the most independent person I know.”

She was. She didn’t actually think she needed the pack link; she didn’t crave physical contact like the others – on the contrary, Lana hated to be touched by those who weren’t her close friends – and the whole hierarchy thing exasperated her.

She loved Crystalia, the lively principal city of Enom. There were so many people, so many smells, so many things to see; although she’d gone there thousands of times, she couldn’t get enough. In a perfect world, she would have moved there, maybe gotten a job at the bookstore she visited every month.

She’d actually enquired about the technicalities. Wilderlings didn’t use marks, the common currency around Europa; but she had plenty of gold. She’d gone to the royal bank and asked if it could be converted.

The manager had personally come out to speak to her, and repeatedly called her “Your Grace,” although he couldn’t have known she was the pack princess. Apparently, the gold was a big deal – and she’d only taken a little bag, too. The average wolf earned as much every year – Lana had a little bit more than most: the enforcer role was a prestigious one. Her mother, though, could probably have bought the entire kingdom: she’d inherited all of her father’s possessions, including a roomful of gold.

Funny how the norm, for some people, was the treasure of their neighbors. They had an abundant gold mine in their lands, so their currency of choice wasn’t exactly hard to come by.

Lana had opened an account and converted that little bag which couldn’t have weighed more than a stone; it had translated into just under one million marks.

At first she’d been confused, but looking up the cost of living, the average price of a house, and more importantly, the cost of books, she knew she could live comfortably for the rest of her life with just that. Given the fact that there were dozens of blocks of pure gold under her bed, she
could
make it in Crystalia. There was an issue, though.

“Mom lives here,” she said without elaborating; it was the beginning and the end of her explanation.

“She might like to leave with you.”

Possibly; they’d never discussed it. Could they really pack up, move to a city, and live like humans?

Frankly, Lana’s wolf was too much a part of her to think of ever hiding her. Where others turned maybe five times a week, Lana average five times a
day
… and if she ever gave into her instinct and turned in public, Norman
would
send his enforcers to hunt her down as soon as the rumors made it back to the pack.

“I don’t see how it would…”

Before she’d managed to finish that sentence, Norman’s voice sent a curt order through her mind.

Intruders. East.

Lana immediately straightened her spine and jumped to her feet.

“Enforcer business?” Jaya guessed.

She nodded curtly. She never liked checking out intruders – because one time out of two, it meant hearing a kill order.

It wouldn’t be directed towards her: Lana was no executioner. The Alpha knew and hated that she’d never taken a life, but still, he hadn’t tried to order her to.

Generally, she was the scout, running around the area to determine whether the intruders were alone. No one wanted the job, because it meant covering a lot of ground pretty damn quick, but as it was better than having to murder innocents, Lana shut up and did her cardio every morning to ensure her forty mile an hour runs didn’t give her a heart attack.

Feeling the other twelve enforcers, the Beta and the Alpha close by, running right east, she headed a little bit further north, to start her job.

Something made her hesitate as she approached her packmates. Along with their recognizable scents, she distinctly smelt horses; they had a way of covering everything else, normally, but she also got a whiff of something strangely familiar.

You may wanna join us Princess.

Tarik’s usually light tone of voice was firm; even more so when he added:
Now.

Chase wondered if it had been what his parents had felt when they’d been about to die: helplessness, regret, longing for the life they’d relinquished.

There was no doubt that he’d die, and soon – he was just delaying the inevitable by fighting. One of these beasts, he might have had a chance against. Three would have ensured he’d lose. Fourteen was kind of overkill.

Fighting against an inescapable fate was a particular vicious blend of torture. He sincerely hoped his folks had been fortunate enough as to meeting their fate swiftly.

He wondered about the kingdom, realizing how stupid he had been to ignore Mimi, after all. He should have had an heir. Who would take his place now? Would they care for his people?

Looking back, Chase wondered where it had all gone so wrong; probably when he’d ignored those damn petitions.

He could also pin down the turning point today. 

The excursion had been off to a nice start. His guests had been chartered to Crystalia on one of his private trains; they were in good humor, after drinking his finest bubbly and nibbling delicacies. They hadn’t been given a proper dinner: he’d planned a picnic right in the middle of the woods, to show them how harmless his territory really was. He hadn’t even entertained the possibility of finding any veracity to the tales, dismissing them as inane folklore, superstitions.

Turned out, for the first time in his life, he’d been wrong.
So
wrong.

A few miles back, they’d come across a friendly guy who introduced himself as one of the lumberjacks who owned the woods – a perfect coincidence. Chase now saw it for what it had been.

The merchants were eager to engage him in a conversation, directly asking about the wolves.

There had been an edge to the guy’s smile.

“Oh, yes. There definitely are wolves around here.”

Chase had genuinely been surprised.

“I’ve never seen one.”

The man smirked.

“I’m sure you’ve had a glimpse, your highness. Perhaps it’s a matter of recognizing what’s in front of your eyes. So, anyway, where are you folks from?”

The Jereenan hadn’t hesitated to answer. Chase recalled the look in the man’s eyes. His back eyes filled with something dark, dangerous.

Twenty minutes later, as soon as they entered the thicker, denser part of the familiar woods, the horses spooked, and they were attacked by a pack of ferocious, monstrous, humongous wolves.

Chase thanked his grandmother for chastising him until he’d consented to change into his formalwear; he wore a sword right now, and that extended his life for two, perhaps three minutes.

That, or the fact that most of the wolves tearing through his company were remarkably uninterested in him.

Finally, every single Jereenan around him was dead. He alone was left standing, around a pile of corpses stinking of blood.

The wolves stopped and sat down around him, as one.

Only then did Chase realize that the creatures were sentient. They understood exactly what they were doing.

Never had he hated anything or anyone as much as he hated them right now.

The largest wolf was a reddish brown creature which looked rather unthreatening, all things considered. Contrarily to the others, its fangs and claws weren’t smeared with blood. Chase wasn’t sure he’d seen it attack anyone; but he didn’t give it much credit for its restraint. It was an integral part of this massacre regardless.

A brown wolf, second to the bear-size one, looked right to him, its black eyes assessing him; it was the leader, Chase could tell. The Alpha. It was considering whether it would leave him alive or execute him.

Chase wasn’t surprised when it snarled and advance towards him, barking an order that he understood as
kill.

It had more than likely read his profound, undiluted hatred for all of them, and judged him as a potential threat.

Clenching his sword, Chase resolved to try to kill that beast, at least, before he died. He might be wrong, but somehow he felt that the others might not be all that awful, without their leader. What he knew about wolves – regular, non-threatening wolves – did suggest no one could go against the Alpha’s commands. Ridding the world of that monster would be his last achievement.