Love of the Wild (12 page)

Jim gawked and gasped. Aethelwulf sputtered and cursed. Everyone else was silent.

“B-but I can’t,” Jim muttered defensively. “How on earth could I—”

“He is not my equal or worthy to set judgment upon me,” Aethelwulf declared loudly. “I will refute any decision he—”

Crow cut in, “You cannot. Not if all three of us agree to Mr. Faulkner’s judgment.” He looked at Jim fondly, with sympathy and courage in his wolf eyes. “Jim, the crime Aethelwulf has committed is against
your
blood kin—humanity. It is fitting that you should show him what humans are made of. Be it harsh justice or merciful forgiveness. The choice is yours.”

His brain practically frozen, Jim couldn’t believe he was suddenly responsible for the fate of an Unveiled being many millennia his senior. How could he possibly know what to do? How could he be just to a man who had been about to make him an eternal prisoner?

“I have faith in your ethics,” Dak whispered in his ear then.

Jim was at a loss. After all, he had lied to Dak before about why he had come to the woods of Wyoming in the first place. And now Dak trusted him? It was all too much.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Jim focused on the basics. If he could forget that Aethelwulf was an immortal lycan, maybe he could pinpoint what was relevant and be just and righteous, then. The man clearly believed he was superior to humans, and for all Jim knew, in many ways he was. He claimed to be wiser than foolish humans. Yet he had discarded his own sense of ethics and his moral backbone in favor of committing an atrocious act against a person’s free will.

Aethelwulf glared at Jim, sending daggers his way. If looks could kill…. But Jim had questions. Perhaps that was his nature.

So he stepped forward, in front of his abductor, and asked, “Aethelwulf, why would you even want a reluctant mate? Wouldn’t you rather have an equal partner whom you loved and who loved you back?”

The lycan growled low. “I told you. Love is a fantasy. And we don’t always get what we want, now do we?”

Jim watched Aethelwulf carefully, ignoring the murmur of Dak, Crow, and Denver behind him. Whatever they were discussing took a backseat to this if he wanted to be fair toward the criminal progenitor.

Because of his scrutiny, the glance Aethelwulf made under his brow toward Denver caught his eye. The look couldn’t have lasted for more than a second, but there was longing, despair, and sorrow in his green eyes, now human again.

A glimmer of hope lifted Jim’s spirits, and he knew what to do.

“I’ve made my decision.”

The others stopped talking behind him.

Crow sounded incredulous. “That was fast.”

“Divine inspiration,” Jim countered with a weak smile as he tried to be strong. After clearing his throat because he was certain he sounded squeaky, he declared his intent. “Aethelwulf can’t stop being the progenitor. Right?” He gave the others a questioning look, which was confirmed with amused nods. “But I think… I think he could use some retraining.” He quickly leaned toward Aethelwulf. “That’s not the start of a doggy joke, I promise.”

While Aethelwulf glared, baring his fangs, the others chuckled.

Jim went on. “With retraining I mean relearning what it means to be a progenitor. Not just the privileges but the responsibilities too. You have taken your mates for granted, and that is a kind of abuse. That is why I think they should be freed from their mating with you.” Aethelwulf was about to object, judging from his expression, but Jim raised his voice as he continued. “I think you need to show your dedication to them by asking them if they wish to be with you. To reclaim them.” Jim bit his lower lip, anxious. “Or not. If you don’t really want or need them. Because if you can’t be all for them, they shouldn’t be obligated to be all for you. You know?”

Aethelwulf frowned. He seemed bitter but also pensive.

Jim took that as a sign that he had reached a part of Aethelwulf. “Just so you can’t unduly influence them and seduce them back with no intention of truly changing your ways, I think another progenitor should stand watch over you. I nominate Denver.”

Shock was visible on both Aethelwulf’s and Denver’s faces.

Jim didn’t let those reactions deter him. “From my admittedly limited observations, I’ve found Denver to be a good and honorable man. An ethical progenitor. If anyone can remind you, Aethelwulf, of what your role in this world truly entails, I believe it’s him.”

It wasn’t Jim’s imagination that Aethelwulf’s eyes softened slightly, as did the harsh lines of his mouth. Nor did he imagine the gratitude that flickered in the depths of the ageless beast. Jim had a feeling he had made the right call. If Aethelwulf harbored any emotions for Denver, then this situation might bring him answers or closure, or both.

“To remember what it means to be a progenitor, it might serve you best to not have your collection of mates, and your other wealth and privileges there to remind you, so I think you should spend some time at Denver’s ranch. Amidst the horses and bulls and cows and chickens and ducks….” At that Jim had to stop since he didn’t know the first thing about what Denver had on his farm or ranch, or what any cowboy had on their lands.

Denver chuckled, bowing his head. “A worthwhile judgment, Jim.” His sky-blue eyes turned to Aethelwulf, whose jaw seemed to have developed a nervous tick. “I will show Aethelwulf the old ways of our kin. The ones he has forgotten in the city with his money, power, obedient alphas, and submissive mates. At my ranch, living will be no lap of luxury. Only good hard work with the soil and the animals.”

If Aethelwulf had a problem with the arrangement—and Jim seriously doubted it—he didn’t let on, merely stayed silently sullen. But Jim had a feeling it was an act. Aethelwulf wanted to be near Denver. He couldn’t help but wonder why Aethelwulf hadn’t made a move on Denver before. Was the mating of two progenitors prohibited perhaps? Jim made a mental note to ask Dak later.

“The verdict has passed, and the decision made,” Crow interceded, his tone allowing no room for objections. “Your wealth and property shall be seized, your mates given their freedom, and your reeducation will take place on Denver’s land, on his terms. This will be a temporary arrangement. If and when you are considered rehabilitated, all that you had will be returned to you—save your mates, who you may or may not desire any longer.” Crow’s stare was aimed at Aethelwulf, but even from the sidelines it made Jim quiver with instinctive fear. “Will you accept this judgment? It is your right to contest it, in which case the Rite of the Blood Moon will take place at a designated hour and—”

“No. I accept the verdict.” Aethelwulf growled his words, as if angry, but Jim was sure he was relieved. Perhaps all that he’d had, owned, and possessed, and living in the city had become a burden to him. What he needed was to learn humility and retouch nature—and perhaps to pursue someone he really desired.

Time would tell if Aethelwulf would succeed in his endeavor.

“May I speak with Mr. Faulkner alone before we leave?” Aethelwulf asked suddenly, his diamond-hard glare aimed at Jim, who gulped down a primal dread. “I swear I shall not run, maim, or eat the human.”

Crow looked at Jim. “Your call.”

Jim nodded hesitantly. “Sure, I guess.”

Together with his abductor, Jim walked out of the hangar, the night dark with the stars as bright pinpricks in the black fabric of the sky. A cool wind rustled his hair and his clothes, but he felt confident enough not to get goose bumps of fear.

“You have sharp eyes, human,” Aethelwulf said so low it was barely a whisper. The sound was halfway threatening, and Jim understood his need to keep a secret.

Jim shrugged. “Luck and timing.”

Aethelwulf stopped and locked gazes with Jim. “No.” He shook his head adamantly. “You are a good man, Mr. Faulkner. I may have underestimated you.”

Jim dared a minor chuckle. “Happens a lot. I’m getting old.”

Quirking his eyebrow, Aethelwulf glanced back to the hangar. “With Dak, that can be avoided.”

Admittedly, Jim hadn’t had the chance to really ponder the consequences of being with Dak. Living with his mate out in the boondocks was one thing. Immortality was quite another, and he hadn’t really given it much thought since it had seemed that Dak would forever be disinclined to pursue a relationship with Jim.

Now he was forced to seriously consider it. Would Dak offer to bite him, to make him a wolf too? To live forever, young and strong?

Aethelwulf seemed to sense Jim’s thoughts. “There’s nothing to fear with the change. It is natural. Any human can become more than they were before, to transcend their limitations if they so choose. Nothing magical or paranormal about it. Few realize this fundamental truth, though, and always take the easy way out. Laziness of the species, I think.”

Jim had to laugh at that. “I admit I’m just a dumb ape, but I think you just insulted me. Or… at least tried to get a rise out of me.”

Aethelwulf actually chuckled then. “I was right. I did underestimate you.”

Jim grew serious, glancing over Aethelwulf’s shoulder at Denver. “In all this time, why haven’t you, um… you know?”

Aethelwulf’s jaw ticked again, and his expression grew stony. “No two progenitors have ever had a relationship with each other.” When Aethelwulf spoke, Jim could barely hear him. Jim suspected it was so the others couldn’t hear the exchange.

Jim wasn’t willing to accept that as an answer written in stone. “So… it’s forbidden?”

“It….” Aethelwulf sounded uncertain, hesitant. “It has never happened. No one knows what the results would be.”

“That’s hardly reason to—”

“You’ve done enough. I’ll handle the rest.”

“Okay. As long as you don’t cower from the—”

“Were you anyone else, little man, I would have torn you limb from limb already for speaking to me with such disrespect,” Aethelwulf growled, intimidating with his mere presence.

All of a sudden Dak was there, in between Jim and Aethelwulf, and his snarl echoed in the night. “Try it, and tonight the winds shall sing your eulogy.”

Jim’s hands reached for Dak’s back, his skin hotter than a normal human’s. Dak wore no shirt or jacket anymore, and Jim felt the man’s muscles jump under his touch. “It’s all right, Dak. He didn’t mean it. Or if he did, he wouldn’t have done it. He likes me.” Jim lifted his chin with playfulness and grinned.

Aethelwulf matched the gesture with one of his own. “This one’s a keeper, Dak. Don’t be an idiot and let him slip through your fingers again. Someone will snatch him up.” He snapped his fingers to illustrate his meaning.

Jim blushed. He’d never been wanted by this many men before, and these men were among the most powerful supernatural beings on the planet. He didn’t know whether to be elated and excited or nervous about the whole thing.

Dak grunted. “Time to go, Aethelwulf. You only get one chance, or it’s the Rite of the Blood Moon for you. None of us wants that.”

Whatever that ominous fate entailed, Aethelwulf seemed unconcerned. “Thank you for your unsolicited advice, Dakotah.”

“Don’t be a bitch,” Jim said, smiling to take the edge off his words. “Things could have fared a lot worse for you tonight.”

Aethelwulf shook his head, his lips pursed with mock admonishment. “You’ve got your hands full with this one, Dakotah. Suddenly I’m not so envious of you anymore.”

“Hey!” Jim protested sharply, and Aethelwulf smiled.

Then four armed Taurs flanked Aethelwulf and escorted him toward the huge black SUVs near the hangar entrance. Jim assumed Dak, Crow, Denver, and their cohorts must have arrived in them.

As he watched the rebellious Aethelwulf disappearing from view, Jim wondered if he was ever going to see him again. He sure hoped so. If the man was capable of feeling any kind of love for Denver, there was redemption in his future.

Jim turned to Dak. “Now what?”

Dak looked at him softly, though he still didn’t smile. “Now we go home.”

“H
OW
DID
you track us down so fast? And where the hell did Crow come from?” Jim was bubbling with questions that needed answers.

Jim and Dak sat in chairs by the fire in Dak’s cabin. The flames burned lively in the fireplace. Birds sang in the woods outside, and the wind rustled in the trees. The summer night was serene, lending its peace to the two occupants.

Dak stared stonily at the flames, unmoving, like a statue. “When I dropped down in the middle of the skirmish between Denver and three of Aethelwulf’s alphas, it didn’t take long at all to take them down. And… I don’t think Aethelwulf really wanted to hurt Denver. It was a diversion tactic, nothing more.”

Jim nodded. That was his impression too. Not just because it seemed Aethelwulf had feelings for Denver, but because he believed in the supremacy of his kind. Killing another wolf, let alone a progenitor, would have been unethical from his point of view.

Dak shrugged, but then his expression grew darker. “The moment the fight was done, I felt something bad had happened to you. By then, Crow had arrived with his Taurs and four alphas. Crow always keeps his ear to the ground. He’d heard talk about Aethelwulf leaving New York after an unknown prize, and he wisely put two and two together. He’s a very powerful lycanthrope, far stronger than even Aethelwulf.”

Jim frowned. “I thought Aethelwulf was the prime of the progenitors, your, um, king, kind of. He said as much.”

Dak snorted. “He always was one for embellishment. All the progenitors are equal. No one is superior to another. Once, many millennia ago, there was a rudimentary hierarchy, but that was discarded even before humans built their first civilizations. Instead of a society of rulers and servants, we developed a territorial system. Few progenitors cross these boundaries even if their alphas do. Crow is the exception, being a public figure, a politician, the spokesman of the lycan breed.”

“Why was he chosen for that job?”

“It’s not a cushy assignment. And… he volunteered when no one else did,” Dak added with a lopsided smirk. The gesture was as close to a smile as Jim had ever seen, and he liked it.