When The Fur Flies (8 page)

When had her nose become so sensitive? She smelled other scent markers, two females and three males, but continued to follow his. The smooth floor of the tunnel angled gradually upward as his scent became stronger. Finally, after several twists and turns, she went past a double door made of oak, and stopped. She turned to go back to the doors as she heard voices and smelled his scent among several others.

***

“Settle down. We’ll deal with the Vampire issue. They won’t dare attack the Den for fear of retribution. They are too smart for that.” Reginald faced his pack as he stood on the raised stage of their auditorium. “We will need to be prepared for attacks outside the gates. As of now there will be no night drills. We run tomorrow night with the full moon, but only in pairs. No one is to be alone at any time outside the main gates of the Den. I’d prefer groups of four or five, but I know there are some of you who prefer to hunt with your mates.”

Reginald looked out at the members of his pack with pride. His pack was strong and fiercely loyal to one another. They wouldn’t hesitate to protect one of their own. It was yet another major change he’d affected during his reign as their alpha. No longer did the weaker members or omegas need to fear their stronger relatives. They were looked after and nurtured to become betas in their own right. This not only promoted pack stability, but also strengthened their numbers. Now, if only he could improve their ability to conceive offspring. As it was, the average pair was lucky to conceive once in five years. Most pairs had only one child, and female babies were rare.

“After tonight no one goes outside the gates at night unless I know about it. No one goes into town during the day alone. Safety is in our numbers. Trust your pack members and watch each other’s backs. Humans and Witches have been known to socialize and sympathize with the bloodsuckers. No one can be trusted, including the Keeper and the Coven of Witches. Any questions?” He dreaded opening the floor up to the people, but it was tradition. Several members raised their hands to be picked, but one stepped forward with a hard glint in her blue eyes.

“I have a question.” Hester Eaton stepped forward with her arms folded against her ample breasts. Reginald looked down and tried not to notice the way her arms pulled her green tank top down to expose a great deal of milky white flesh. Her straight blonde hair pulled back in a long tail showed her ready for the hunt.

“Hester?” His hands sank into the pockets of his jeans as he waited for her to voice her question. She had been close enough to smell him when he entered the room, and her glaring stare told him without a doubt that she knew he’d mated another woman. She wasn’t happy about it, nor did he expect her to be.

“Who did you bring to the Den and deposit in your room? And why has your scent changed?” Her anger reached out toward him as the room became eerily still and quiet. Beside him, Tray shifted on his feet uneasily. His second in command was not happy about his choice of mate. They’d had a brief conversation, but Reginald knew his best friend was only voicing concerns he, himself, had yet to face. Tray had been the only one besides his mother, Yasmina that he’d told about Allison. Now, he had no choice but to own up to his mistake.

“Her name is Allison Carver. She’s no stranger to the Den. She came here for a short time when she was sixteen. Her Coven has been our ally against the undead for centuries. I brought her here because...I mated her.” He stood straight and tall even as the entire auditorium erupted in loud accusations and gasps of shock.

“She’s a Witch!”

“Blasphemy?”

“Sullying the bloodlines!”

Every word hit him as if they were sharp knives of hate. Reginald looked to Tray who folded his arms and watched him quietly. His expression was easy to read. His second had defended his back through fist fights and bloody battles where death was eminent. Tray would not defend his choice this time. Why should he? A Witch was responsible for his brother’s imprisonment after all.

“The Witch must die! She will be our ruin!”

He’d heard enough. Reginald glared at Tray as he raised a hand, but the chaos didn’t quiet until he let out a fierce snarl that had the first two rows of Wolven backing up a step. They were not used to his bark, but knew for a fact that his bite was much worse. “That is enough! I am still Alpha here. This pack does
not
make decisions for me. I make decisions for this pack!” His hard gaze traveled the room slowly, touching every last member with his will. “Is anyone challenging me for that right?”

After a tense pause two younger males and an older Wolven stepped forward with their heads held high, eyes meeting the Alpha’s challenge with a strength that made Reginald proud of them. He’d hate to hurt them, or wound their pride, but they had the right to challenge his leadership. He nodded his head at them with a smile.

“You have the right to challenge, and I accept. The challenge will be held at dusk tomorrow night.” They nodded their heads in acceptance and stepped back into the group. “Anyone else object to my decision to mate a Witch?”

No one moved. Several eyes dropped to the floor in silent allegiance to the Alpha. Their loyalty was to their leader, a testament to the changes he’d made to strengthen and protect them. The changes he’d promoted since becoming their Alpha had only improved their lives and made them proud to be Wolven. As he surveyed the crowd, only one pair of blue eyes dared to stare back at him with hate. Hester had made overtures to become his Alphina. She’d even come to his chambers to tempt him to mate her, but something held him back from placing the mark of possession on her shoulder. The mark that was now decorating the silken flesh of the sexy Witch sleeping in his bed.

“Alpha, you may have mated the Witch, but you haven’t been bound to her long. Our laws states that single women have the right to challenge before the joining ceremony can take place.” Her eyes met his glare head on. “I invoke that right.”

“I have the right to overrule your challenge, Hester. My word is law.” He growled low in his chest, his lips pulling back to show sharp incisors.

“She will be Alphina. I would test her strength to find out if she is fit for the title.” Her eyes became soft and flinty. “Unless you fear the little Witch is too weak to fight for her position and her mate.” She had him, and she knew it. Reginald wanted to jump from the stage and rip her throat out for suggesting such a match. A Wolf against a tabby cat was not a good match up. There wouldn’t be much left of Allison when the fur settled. He couldn’t allow it to happen.

“I forbid it.” Tray moved next to him as several members of the pack moved closer to Hester. Their disapproval was evident in the way they growled up at him.

The doors to the stage burst open with a loud bang. Standing in the doorway was the object of their discussion, and she didn’t look well. Her long brown hair fell in tangled waves against her pale face. She was wearing one of his shirts over her dark blue jeans. Her feet were bare as he had been forced to throw her charred sneakers away. The mixed scent of burnt flesh and melted rubber had made his stomach turn. He’d once more been the cause of her pain. The thought made him sick.

Allison raised her head to look up at him, and his breath lodged in his throat. Her cat eyes were no longer completely amber in color, but were half blue and half amber. They looked as if the Goddess had placed reflections of a crescent moon on the outer edge of her corneas. The look was strange and caused several members of the crowd to whisper heatedly.

“Allison, you shouldn’t be here.” He wanted to pull her into his arms and take her back to his chambers. She looked sweaty and weak, but the anger in her weird gaze held him immobile. She tiptoed toward him but stopped to go to the edge of the stage.

***

“I understand a challenge has been made.” Allison wanted to wipe at the bead of sweat that was running down between her breasts but instead focused on the tall, blonde woman who was glaring and growling up at her.

“I make the challenge.” Hester raised her chin proudly. “Someone has to rid this pack of our Alpha’s
mistake
.”

Allison angled a look back over her shoulder at Reginald who was standing there staring at her with his fists clenched at his sides. He didn’t appear to want to defend his mistake, so she reckoned she was on her own. What was new? “I didn’t make the choice to be your Alpha’s mate, but fate has a way of deciding things for me. I would know the parameters of your challenge.”

“You don’t need to do this.” Reginald took a step toward her. His thoughts were riddled with doubt and concern over her ability to defend herself against an opponent he knew was a fierce warrior. Allison pushed his undermining thoughts away to the far corner of her mind as she turned back to the numerous Wolven before her.

“She does,” Hester growled out at him. “My challenge is a battle before the hunt in animal forms without the use of magic. I don’t think the use of magic would be fair, do you?”

“I have never used magic to injure, and I won’t start now.”

“You’re a Witch! That’s all you use magic for!” Hester laughed, and the crowd seemed to back her.

“I don’t. I agree to your challenge.” She watched weakly as the pack members cheered and rejoiced. It was all background noise as she stared at Hester’s smile. The woman wanted her blood, and if looks could kill, she would have given all nine lives as the Alpha took her hand in his. Whether it was for a show of unity or because he wanted to touch her, she didn’t care at the moment. She felt like she was about to blow up with heat.

Reginald’s hand was so refreshingly cool surrounding hers. Allison wanted to place his palm against her burning forehead, but she refrained in order to keep up the appearance of strength. All the pack members needed to do was find her weaknesses. She was, after all, a pussy cat in a Den of hungry Wolven. Reginald pulled her up against his side in a show of possession and protection as he turned back to the tall red-haired man who had stood at his side. “Tray, you can send them to breakfast, now. Double the security teams as we planned.” Without another word he pulled Allison out into the hallway and shut the doors with a bang. Instantly, he scooped her up in his arms and started moving hastily down the tunnel.

“You’re making this a habit, you know.” She rested her hot forehead against his cool shirt with a sigh. His scent swirled around her, the power within it comforting her even as it excited her. Fighting back the urge to tear open his shirt, she clutched her hands together tightly.

“And you’re making a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong damn time.” He grunted. “How did you find your way to the meeting hall?”

“I followed your scent.” She shrugged a shoulder.

“My scent?” He hurried down deeper into the earth where the tunnel became narrower.

“You have a slight smell of lavender. It sets you apart from the other males. That and the fact that your musk has arrogance that smacks of alpha importance.”

“Thanks, I think.” He grinned and shook his head at her. “I have you to thank for the lavender scent marker.”

“Me? What do you mean?” She lifted her head to stare at his dark face as the dim lights reflecting off him as they quickly passed under them.

“You smell like lavender, mate. Strong, fresh lavender, mixed with a slight hint of me.”
It is driving me crazy.
She smiled at the admission, though only in his thoughts, it soothed her feminine ego. She gloried in the male show of strength as his long legs moved them quickly down the tunnel until they lost the light. “I have to put you down for a second. Don’t move from this spot.”

“Okay.” Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dark. She watched him move to the side and pull on a chain. A candelabrum moved from out of the darkness to him. Seconds later he’d lit the candles and was sending the chandelier back to the middle of the cavernous room.

“Wow.” Allison stared around her in awe. “An underground lake. You have a lake underground?” She heard him laugh as he watched her survey the room.

There was a sandy beach leading down into the dark waters lapping gently against the shoreline. The lake was wide and looked deep in the center. All it lacked was green vegetation and the moonlight shining upon the water. She rubbed at the burning itch below the skin on her arms. Heat coiled inside her belly deep and painful. She felt like a volcano about to blow her top. She couldn’t be sure, but she felt almost like she would right before spell casting. The anticipation of creation and magical communion with her natural environment was potent.

“Come on, you’re burning up. Probably from breaching the wards on the main gate.” He swept her up in his arms and held her close to his chest.

“Wards. I thought I sensed danger. Next time listen to me when I don’t want to go somewhere.” She gave him a dark look of irritation that melted into a smile when she heard him compare her ‘killer look’ to that of a sexy vixen chastising a puppy not to chew her new shoes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about the wards. They’ve been on those gates for hundreds of years. No one comes here without our invitation. And your kind never walks through the main gates.” Allison heard his thoughts turn gloomy as he silently berated himself for being so stupid.

“My kind?” She nodded her head and concentrated on the firm, tanned skin of his neck. “How can I forget our differences so easily when you touch me?” He frowned and held her closer to his chest. His thoughts bouncing between regret and arrogant approval. She realized he was just as confused about their attraction as she was. “A cat and a wolf, who would have thought it?” She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck, cuddling into his chest.

“Come on, let’s get you into the water and cool your temperature down.” He let her body slide to the ground at the edge of the water, but held her with an arm around her waist and a firm hand on her elbow. Her magic pulsed alarmingly within her body as her bare feet hit the soft sand.

“No. Let me go!” She shrugged him away with more strength than she looked like she possessed. He stepped away, and she felt regret at the way he scowled in rejection. “I’m sorry. There’s so much pressure here.” She lifted her hands palm up out over the water. She focused her eyes on her hands, relieved that her back was turned to him. A witch’s eyes almost always turned completely black when she was in the middle of spell-casting. It always made her feel self-conscious to caste in front of others. She centered her power and focused her mind on what she wanted to create, excluding all outside influences, including the worried thoughts of the male behind her. Immediately, two identical balls of blue flame appeared to roll and hover in her palms. A small smile pulled her lips into a smile of relief.