Scattered Siblings 3: To Mate a Werewolf (7 page)

“What’s wrong?” Joel demanded. “Is it mom? Has something happened?”

Alexander shook his head. “Your mom’s fine, and it’s good to see you. I just wish you’d come sooner.”

Joel wondered when the laugh lines around his dad’s eyes had become wrinkles. “Then are you ill? Is that why nobody’s talking?”

“I’m fine, son, but I’m not getting any younger. You’ve been gone for almost four hundred years. Look, I understand you don’t want to step into my shoes. Perhaps it would be best if you stuck with a military career and let someone else pick up the Tundra Toughs’ reins.”

Joel’s mother waved from the doorway and ran toward them. She wrapped her arms around Joel’s waist and hugged him hard. “I’ve missed you, son. Alex, have you told him yet?”

Joel wanted to grab his father’s shoulders and shake some answers out of him.

As always, Alexander Blackheart’s expression softened when he gazed at his mate. His mate. “I was just about to when this sexy she-wolf sidled up and distracted me by hugging another man. Joel, the thing is, every pack needs a strong alpha at the helm.”

“Dad, that’s why I’ve come home.”

His father shook his head. “It’s no secret that I’ve been ready to step down for nigh on a hundred years. We didn’t know when you were coming home, or even if you intended to. I’ve heard some of the pack mutter it was time for a challenge. When I announced you were ready to take up your rightful place in the Tundra Toughs, I thought that would be an end to it.”

Joel felt as though icy fingers squeezed his heart. The Tundra Toughs were his birthright, and he wouldn’t give them up willingly. “I’m up for a challenge. Tell whichever idiot’s put his name in the hat to bring it on. I’m home now, and I’m going nowhere.”

“It’s not just one challenger.” His mom blinked hard and held him tighter. Alexander Blackheart drew his wife into his arms and kissed away the tears she hadn’t being able to stem. Joel knew his parents were affectionate in private, but all this public pawing was beyond him. His marriage wouldn’t be like that. A few tears from his mother, and his father turned to jelly. Joel would never let his wife manipulate him that way.

Joel’s mother snuggled closer to her mate. “Tell him, Alex.”

“There are three challengers, all from outside the pack. Marcellus is the youngest in his litter, but like the litter’s firstborn he’s also an alpha. His oldest brother took over their pack. Marcellus could either stay and take his rightful place as first lieutenant, or walk away and found a new pack. Instead, when he spotted a weakness in the Tundra Toughs, he challenged to be our next alpha.”

Joel clenched his fists. Fury burned though his blood, and the hairs at the back of his neck rose. His loyalty to King Caleb had kept him away too long. If he’d just come home sooner, this would never have happened.
Elves’ blood, I’m glad Ellie isn’t here to see my shame
. The Tundra Toughs were his people. He loved every one of them, but he’d stayed away too long.

His mother’s lower lip trembled. “One of the challengers, Lysander, lost his mate a century back. He was a pack alpha, but he stepped aside and took off into the forest. His pack thought he’d died of sorrow, but instead he’s grown cold and uncaring. He’s ready to run a pack again, but he cares nothing for the Tundra Toughs.”

“True enough,” Joel’s father agreed, “but the third one’s worse. No one knows anything about him, but Titus is a bruiser with a torn ear and a bad attitude. Even the single she-wolves avoid him.”

Joel folded his arms and widened his stance. “And I make the fourth challenger. That’s means an old-fashioned tournament. Just tell me when and where.”

Alexander met his son’s gaze, more weary pack alpha than loving father. “We delayed things as long as possible, but the deadline is three p.m. today. I figured if you weren’t back by then, then you didn’t care about pack or home. It’s no secret that I’m ready to retire, but you preferred your military career. I want you to succeed me, but you need to want that too.”

Joel looked away first. He’d put his duty before pack and family. His father’s worn-down expression and gray hairs made him feel ashamed. “King Caleb… Being Grand Marshal meant… Damn it, Dad. I’m sorry.”

His mother ran her forearm over her eyes and blinked wildly. “You don’t have to do this, son. Just because your father dreamed of handing the pack over to you doesn’t mean you dreamed of running it.”

Joel held her for a moment, then met his father’s expectant gaze. “I’m Tundra Toughs through and through, never doubt that, and whatever anyone says, I’m the pack’s next alpha. I should have come home years ago. There’s nothing like nearly losing something to make you realize how much it matters. I’ll be there to declare my entry.”

He leaped up the stairs three at a time. He’d sent his luggage on ahead.
Good job I did. The council might have set an earlier deadline. They waited until I came home, and ensured I’d have time to enter the tournament
. He pulled out his spare dress uniform, glad it wasn’t too creased. The turquoise flashes on his arm and turquoise stars on his epaulettes and collar marked his rank. He heard the door close as his father left to meet with his lieutenants and record entries.

When Joel returned to the parlor, he winced at the concern in his mother’s eyes. “You could just go back and be a soldier. Don’t let your father railroad you into something you don’t want.”

He knelt beside her and took her hand. “I want this so much it hurts. I’m up for anything this tournament throws at me. Just you wait. I promise that in four days’ time, I’ll be the pack’s next alpha.”

She smiled though the tears. “Good. And by the way, Olivia Deerstalker, your new fiancée, arrived this morning.”

Joel felt sick. He’d asked his father to arrange this wedding but marrying a stranger had lost its appeal. He kept thinking of how he’d hurt Ellie. And of course that took him straight back to their al fresco sex. Not that he had time to consider that now. He had a pack to reclaim.

He headed off toward the Great Hall, but when he arrived he hung back rather than join the three men gathered outside. His primal wolf wanted to rip off their limbs. His natural wolf wanted their throats, but tradition demanded he behave in a civilized manner toward them. Inside he didn’t feel civilized at all.

As the Great Hall’s clock struck three, the door opened. Alexander led his lieutenants out onto the veranda, and his voice rang out. “I declare a tournament for the position of pack alpha. All contestants must register within one hour or leave the Tundra Toughs’ territory for good. This is a solemn occasion, and it leaves the Tundra Toughs pack vulnerable. In accordance with Lykae tradition, after the declarations no one may leave our territory until the new alpha is in place. While this is not a time for celebration, Olivia Deerstalker arrived this morning to marry my son, Joel. We welcome her this evening with music and dancing. All the contenders will attend.” Alexander turned on his heel and walked back inside.

Chapter Seven

Lysander, the first contender, followed Alexander inside. Like Joel, he’d frozen into his immortality in his early thirties. His step was heavy and his eyes cold, but an alpha didn’t usually survive the loss of his mate. Somehow Lysander hadn’t followed her into the sunset. He sounded perpetually angry as if life had lost any laughter and sparkle. After a century in the wilderness, he’d returned to challenge for control of the Tundra Toughs pack. Nobody knew why.

Even though he stood well back, Joel heard the other wolf announce, “I am Lysander. And I declare my entry before the gathered witnesses.”

He came out a few moments later, and the second challenger, Marcellus, stepped into view. He paused outside the door, and Joel realized this wolf had turned immortal in his mid-twenties. His eyes shone with all the life Lysander’s lacked. His inbuilt self-confidence added a swagger to his gait. Rarely did one litter produce two alphas. Usually the younger Lykae left with a few friends and founded a new pack.

When he sauntered into the Great Hall, he spoke loud and clear. His words carried, and Joel’s natural wolf howled inside him when the contender announced, “I am Marcellus. I declare my entry before the gathered witnesses.”

Joel’s primal wolf wanted Marcellus’s blood, but his human side respected him for not causing dissent in his brother’s pack. When Marcellus left the Great Hall, he nodded toward at Joel. Reluctantly Joel nodded back.

The next wolf had an angry glower and a stomp in his walk. His torn ear and thickset muscles marked him as a natural-born fighter. Joel grimaced when the other wolf growled at Alexander and his lieutenants. “I am Titus, and I declare my entry before the gathered witnesses.”

Titus’s tone showed no respect for anyone. Lust for power shone in his eyes, and he curled his lip at Alexander and his lieutenants as if he didn’t understand why they’d want to step down. Sometimes new alphas demanded the throats of their predecessors. Not that Joel would let him hurt either his father or his friends. The Tundra Toughs were his pack, and he intended to win this damn tournament.

Joel prowled back and forth, taking time to calm down. When he finally regained control of his wolves, he had five minutes to register his intent. As he entered the Great Hall, his father’s look of relief was apparent to all.

Like the current alpha, the lieutenants possessed gray hairs and deadly grace. Alexander hadn’t added to their number since he considered retiring. These men had been ready to step aside for almost a century, happy to let younger shoulders carry the pack’s burdens. While they had never said it, they all thought Joel had taken too long to come home.

The Great Hall smelled of modeling clay and fresh flowers. The pups had painted bright-colored murals across a sidewall, and a huge clock hung over the door. The room looked too cheerful for such a mournful gathering.

Joel strode down the room, his features schooled into death stare, arrogance, and menace. He kept his head high. When he stood before the table, he held his father’s gaze. Alexander looked away first.

Slow and steady, Joel stared at each lieutenant, nodded, and moved on to the next. The silence stretched until it became uncomfortable. The clock hand inched forward. Alexander shuffled in his seat. He blanched when his son’s gaze settled back on him. Joel’s voice echoed about the room. “I care for every member of the Tundra Toughs pack. I’m here to claim my birthright. I’ll fight anyone or anything to retain
my
pack. I am Joel Blackheart, and I keep what is mine. I declare my entry before the gathered witnesses.”

* * * *

Ellie basked like a cat as she enjoyed the late-afternoon sun, but her brain whirred. Joel left her no choice but to move on and make a new life, but she needed to find a way back to him first. She’d never forgive herself if she didn’t warn him about the redhead and the People’s Defense League. Eyes closed, she pictured his hair. She could almost reach out and run her fingers through it. She wanted to sort the colors, or maybe kiss her way down his chest toward his cock. Just to stroke his face or touch his muscular torso would be…a mistake.

Her nipples pearled, and her pussy creamed as she concentrated on the Lykae she loved. She even imagined his arctic meadow essence. Then nausea hit.

Her mushrooms had been fine, hadn’t they? Then she remembered that the one and only time she ate magic mushrooms, they’d taken a full day to have any effect. Almost twenty-four hours had passed since she’d poisoned her captors, but she’d eaten those innocent-looking mushrooms in that brown paper bag. Maybe Laurel and Hardy back at the farmhouse were into hallucinogenics, but they’d seemed too uptight for that.

Just like last time when she’d dreamed of a loving family and clean home, her world spun. She’d no time to dream, not when killers stalked Joel, but all she could do was hang on to her sanity for all she was worth.

Once the mushroom-induced illusion wore off, she’d find a way to contact Joel. The world went black, and she felt herself spinning, falling. She clutched her bag of belongings and hoped she wasn’t seriously ill. Strange how her fantasy felt as though she flashed to the otherworld.

Maybe it’s because I was thinking about Joel.

That transition always made her feel sick, and she wanted to throw up. When her vision cleared, she stood inside a bedroom far more luxurious than the cheap hotel room where she’d spent the night.

Elves didn’t have enough magic to flash from place to place, which meant this was a hallucination.
Definitely the mushrooms, but as dreams go, this is a doozy.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” a male voice demanded. Joel emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel slung low around his hips. A trail of dark blond hairs ran from his stomach, then vanished beneath it. The towel tented at the front where his erection stood proud.

Joel? In a room with a silk-sheet covered bed? The only other time she’d eaten hallucinogenic mushrooms, every sound, every sight, and smell had been amplified a million times over.

This time Joel’s freshly applied aftershave seemed sweeter, stronger, more enticing, and she almost groaned. She stared so hard she could count every hair in that dark blond trail running down his chest. Okay, she’d have to remove the towel, but that wouldn’t be a problem…really. Last time she’d dreamed of her ideal childhood home. Surely this time, she should dream of perfect sex with her perfect man. Joel should seem pleased to see her.
My dream, my rules, remember?

He grabbed her shoulders, and for a moment she thought he was going to shake her. Fury radiated off him in waves. “I told you, you’re not welcome here.”

Ellie had held back her tears for so long, but now they flowed in torrents. Her control shattered. She wept hard and ugly.

“Gods, Ellie, don’t cry. You know you can’t stay here.” Joel shoved her away. He stood tall, lips narrowed and turned down. The laugh lines around his eyes vanished, and his eyebrows drew together.

Her gaze drifted lower. In her hallucination, he’d just stepped out the shower. Water glistened on his broad chest and dripped down his biceps. He’d wrapped a towel around his waist, and his cock… Well, the way it tented the towel wasn’t big brotherly at all.