Her Wolf’s Demands by Rachel Medhurst
Chapter Eight
The floorboard creaked, jolting me up from the bed. I’d been unable to sleep, too het up and sexually frustrated. And yet, the anticipation had been arousing and hard to disobey.
Another creak, just outside the bedroom door. My heartbeat was loud in my ears. Maybe Malone had snuck in to alleviate me of the mounting sexual pressure.
Sniffing on instinct as I stepped out of the bed, I froze when the scent of roses slipped up my nose. That wasn’t Malone’s smell, nor was it his frame as it slunk through the door and into my room.
“Stop!” I ordered, catching the flash of red hair from the moonlight that came in through the hallway.
The room was pitch black, any light blocked by the thick heavy drapes.
Flicking my hand, I switched the lamp on, moving back when the room lit up and Rochelle was revealed. Her lips were pulled up in a silent snarl, her eyes wide and staring.
“What do you want?” I snapped.
A grunt left her lips as she lunged forward, turning into a wolf in mid-air. A yelp left my lips as I jumped up on the bed, my stomach plummeting when her claws swiped near my calf as she landed next to me.
“Piss off!” I cried, kicking out. “Or I’ll have to hurt you.”
A weird sound – probably a wolf laugh – came from the red wolf as she dodged my leg, hitting it with her own paw and unbalancing me. Pain sliced my skin as her sharp claws dug deep, drawing blood.
My heartbeat tripled, giving me strength as I clambered off the bed and spun, just as she launched herself at me.
Holding up my arms, I imagined every one of the bones in her legs cracking. Her surprised howl was followed by a grunt as she thumped to the floor, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. The pain must have been too unbearable for the bitch.
Kneeling beside the beast, I checked that she’d passed out. Yep, her eyes were closed, her breathing laboured. The grotesque curvature of her legs almost made me feel a little sorry for her. Almost. Not quite. Nah, who was I kidding? She deserved to feel pain.
My phone rang at the same time as someone knocked on the front door to the cabin. That was the problem with wolves having super-sonic hearing, you couldn’t get away with anything.
“It’s okay,” I told Malone when I picked up the phone. “I stubbed my toe on your amazingly crafted, but heavy as shit, bed post. Think I broke a toe.” Making my way through the cabin, I cringed as I scented my guard at the door. Manual.
The wolf howl had been reverberating, reaching their ears instantly. Would Malone and his best friend buy my pathetic excuse?
“You need me?” Malone’s voice was groggy despite his quick response.
Shaking my head as I opened the door and gestured at my phone, I shrugged at Manual.
“I’m fine, Malone, like I said, I stubbed my toe. Manual’s on my doorstep, looking a little bored.”
“Don’t worry, alpha,” Manual called, winking at me, “I’ll kiss it better so it’s all healed for the ritual tomorrow.”
A growl came down the phone, followed by a huff as I put him on loudspeaker. “She’ll heal perfectly fine in an hour. Now, go and get some sleep, people. This wolf needs his slumber.”
The phone cut off, beeping as I waved goodbye to Manual and shut the door.
Careful to keep my footsteps slow, I hurried back to the bedroom. Rochelle would be waking up soon, no doubt healed and ready to kill me twice-fold.
Sneaking into the room, I released my held breath. The she-wolf was still unconscious, a big furry lump on the wooden floor. Her bones were already shifting back into place. And there I was, dying to see the agony etched on her face when she awoke.
Instead of being miffed about it, I pointed at her, invoking a levitation spell. Her wolf form floated up and landed on the bed. The rope ties that held the drapes of the four poster bed loosened and wound themselves around all four of her paws, binding them together. There. The witch had caught the wolf.
A smile danced across my lips as I grabbed the jug of water on the bedside table and threw it over the sleeping wolf.
She spluttered and growled, trying to rear up. Her tied legs were a hindrance to her escape, forcing her to plop back down. Lifting her head, she stared, her orange eyes full of sadness.
“I’m sorry,” I said, dragging a chair across the floor and placing it beside the bed. “I know you had feelings for Malone.”
Her form shifted, her grunt loud as her bones cracked and her fur retreated. The binds went with her, shrinking to fit her dainty wrists and ankles. Her face appeared last, her head resting on my pillow.
Moving quickly, I grabbed a blanket and threw it over her perfectly bare form. As comfortable as the wolves were in their own skin, I wasn’t about to have a friendly chat with a naked enemy. I wouldn’t know where to put my eyes.
“You have no idea…” Rochelle almost choked.
Her eyes were glassy, a film of water covering them as she looked away. She tugged on the material binding her, trying to break free. My magic was more powerful than her wolf strength. It would take her forever to get free. She’d probably have to gnaw on the material with her sharp canines for several hours.
“Then, explain.”
My heartbeat sped up as I sat back in the chair, crossing my legs and tucking my hands between my thighs. If my jealously reared its ugly head, at least I had them clamped away safely. For now.
“Why should I speak to you about my life?” she spat, her cheeks turning red as she struggled on the bed.
“Because,” I said, not daring to move in case I unintentionally threatened her, “I know what it feels like to want something you can’t have. Okay, so it wasn’t a man. I’ve always failed miserably in that department, but…” I bit my bottom lip as I contemplated my answer. Did I tell the woman who wanted me dead about my darkest thoughts? If I laid myself open, she’d either understand, or use the information against me. I didn’t know her at all, even if I felt her emotions. Was it worth the risk? “…I’ve wanted freedom from my troubles. I’ve longed for it, crying every evening, knowing it was something I could never have.”
Blinking, Rochelle swallowed, shifting to sit up and lean against the carved wooden wolf headboard. “We all want freedom from our troubles.”
“True,” I countered, “but do you have a father who is deemed the most useless warlock in Brighton? Or a brother who has occasional episodes where he’s so paranoid, he can’t leave the house?” My words came quicker, flowing from my lips as I became breathless. “Or maybe a coven who despise you because of your birth name? Oh, and to top it off, a thriving spell business that actually depletes the rest of your energy?”
Rochelle raised her eyebrows. “No, I don’t.”
“Fuck. That felt good to say out loud.” Releasing my shaky breath as my tight chest loosened, I sat back in my chair, swinging my crossed leg back and forth.
“I… I wouldn’t have thought that I had the tell-me-your-woes type of energy,” Rochelle said, shaking her head, “but thank you for sharing, I guess.”
Her haughty manner couldn’t be melted so easily, although I wasn’t surprised. I wasn’t quite sure what I was aiming to do. She knew what I’d been through now, on a very basic level, but it wasn’t enough to give her power over me.
“I’m not surprised you’ve struggled,” she said, surprising me.
Staying quiet, I swallowed, not quite sure how to reply. Having a heart to heart with a cold-hearted she-wolf wasn’t as easy as I’d imagined. Not that I’d thought my plan through. Typical Della.
“My dad was amazing.” Her words were whispered on a breath, strangled at the end. “He was killed because of Tom, Malone’s father.”
A pang squeezed my chest. Wow. She had actually told me something about herself. And if the tears that hovered in the eyes were a clue, she had adored her father. It was a foreign concept to me, one that I had fantasied about in the past. Yes, I’d actually pictured my father showing up to our apartment and hugging both me and Drake, before declaring that he loved us very much. A girl could dream, no?
“What did Tom do?” I asked, curious to hear about the previous alpha from another person.
“He sent him into a battle knowing full well they would lose. Ten of our men and women died that day.”
A lump came to my throat, making me cough. Rochelle raised her eyebrows, searching my gaze as I looked at her. I had to keep my composure if I wanted her to respect me. Allowing my emotions to run wild wouldn’t look good for the alpha’s mate.
“Why would he do that?” I kneaded my hands together, anxiety making it hard not to do something as the emotions from her distress washed over me.
Rochelle stared into the distance, disappearing into a time in the past. A time that had obviously caused her much grief.
“I don’t know how much Malone has told you.” Her gaze was clouded over as she opened up. “But his father became a tyrant ruler near the end of his reign. One day, he received a report from his men that several wolf packs were bearing down on us, ready for revenge over an honour killing.”
“Honour killing?” I spluttered.
Her eyes blinked briefly. “Tom became different, his mind playing tricks on him. He took it upon himself to execute one of the pack’s fated mates. She was from another pack, integrated into ours for years when Tom lost it and took her life.”
“So, her pack came after Tom?”
The inclination of her head was accompanied by a scowl. “Of course, it was wrong what Tom had done. However, none of our pack had the guts to stand up to him. When Tom got word that the other packs were coming, he sent a team of ten wolves out to defend us, knowing full well they would be torn apart.”
“And your father was one of them?”
My insides quivered as she bit her lip and blinked rapidly, trying to rid her tears. It didn’t work. Instead, one slipped down her smooth cheek, dropping onto her collarbone. “When the enemy wolves came into the camp, they held my father’s shifted head aloft, declaring their victory.”
My hand went to my chest as my stomach rolled. “Surely that’s not legal. Talk about medieval archaic.”
A frown crossed her forehead. “Yeah, I suppose it is. Our way of life is different from yours, although Malone would never be a tyrant like his father. The other packs… as much as I hate to say it, they didn’t have a choice. They had to stop Tom.”
“I guess there’s still a ton of ill-feeling in the land of wolves, even though Tom’s dead?”
Shaking her head, Rochelle pulled her perfectly plucked eyebrows low. “I can’t believe I just told you my life story.”
I shrugged, a smile tugging at my lips. “You technically didn’t. I mean, I don’t know your favourite music or ice cream flavour.”
Despite herself, she giggled, the sound strange coming from her. She was a hard-nosed cow, and yet, I suddenly understood why. It wasn’t just because she had feelings for Malone, – deep breaths, control the green-eyed jelly monster – it was because she knew a witch-hybrid would attract the attention of the other packs. It was against all wolf law, not just the Brighton Pack’s way of life.
“You’re afraid that a hybrid-witch ruling alongside Malone will bring bloodshed to the rest of the pack?”
Struggling against her binds again, she grunted and huffed, flicking her head. Her ire returned, palpable in the room. “That’s exactly what it will happen. I’m not afraid of it, I know it.”
Her gritted teeth tightened her jaw as her gaze darted around the room, searching for an escape route no doubt.
“What if I promise to do everything in my power – which, as you can see, is vast – to help build your pack back up? Once that’s done…” I paused, my heart heavy as I licked my lips and ducked my gaze. “… I’m going to try and find a witch who can bind my wolf spirit and release me from being a hybrid.”
Her gasp made me glance up. She sat straight, her spine rigid and her mouth agape. “Do you really think it will be that easy? Do you not feel that pull towards Malone? It should be killing you inside to even think that, let alone say it out loud.”
A sob erupted from nowhere as I pictured my alpha’s face. It did. The sadness that clung to every inch of my being at the thought of leaving behind my mate exploded out of me, bringing the grief that had been bubbling beneath the surface.
One minute, I was elated, high from the connection I shared when I was with him. Then, when alone, my world crashed down around me.
Malone had promised that we’d get through it and that the pack would accept me. I knew it wasn’t true. Rochelle had even tried to attack me before the ritual could go ahead. It wasn’t a surprise, considering. However, most of the pack probably felt the same way.
“I know you hate me.” I hiccupped, wiping the tears that gathered in the corner of my eyes. “I’m sorry I took away something that you felt was yours and brought fear into the pack. But, there’s one thing you’re forgetting.”
Her eyebrows were furrowed, a sympathetic look creasing the corner of her eyes. “What?”
“I didn’t have a choice, either. Nor did Malone. As hard as it is to swallow, fate brought us together. I just happened to step in front of my brother when Malone was trying to exact revenge for Lionel. It’s what your species does. And that day, we were in the wrong place, at the wrong time.”
“You weren’t.” Rochelle’s shoulders slumped, her hair falling forward as she glanced down at the bedcover. “You’re right, it was fate. It had to happen to bring you together. I… I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I laughed, sniffing as I tried to regain composure.
“For being a complete and utter bitch.”
My chuckle was muffled by my hand as I unceremoniously wiped my nose on my sleeve. “I get it. I appreciate you telling me about your father. I can’t even imagine what that would’ve been like.”
Her eyes softened when our gaze met. The energy between us had completely shifted, a warmth spreading into the room.
“I promise I’m not hankering after Malone,” she said, sitting prettily, unlike me, who slouched. “Now that he’s mated, a switch has gone off, washing away anything that lingered. Hopefully I’ll meet my match soon.”
“I hope so,” I replied, swirling my hands to release the ties around her wrists and ankles. “Because you’re too gorgeous to be hanging around my alpha.”
A smirk crossed her lips. “You’re not so bad yourself, and once the ceremony is performed, you won’t have to worry about those feelings. You’ll be so bonded, you’ll just have to overcome outside obstacles.”
“Like a whole witch coven wanting me dead? Oh, and a wolf war with the Crawley Pack.”
“Exactly.” She climbed off the bed and came over to me. “Strawberry and cream ice cream while listening to rock music, mainly.”
Smiling, I stayed completely still, not quite trusting that she wouldn’t rip my throat out. Instead, she threw her arms around me and squeezed. The scent of summer flowers filtered up my nose as her soft hair brushed my face.
My heart lifted as I patted her back awkwardly. I was totally unused to friend hugs, and yet, a stupid smile wouldn’t leave my face.
“Sorry,” I said when she released me, “mint choc chip is the best. Nothing else compares.”
Dismissing me with a wave, she made her way over to the door.
My phone bleeped, showing a message from Fredrick.
Hey, Della Wella, I’m well out of the coven. They’re nasty bastards so you’re well rid. What info do you need? Happy to help.
“Hey,” I called, placing my hands on my hips as Rochelle turned back to face me. “How do you feel about cats?”
Her dainty nose screwed up as she shrugged. “We’re not supposed to like them, but I secretly do. Why?”
Okay, my friend-mance had only just started, so it was risky to ask Rochelle – aka she-wolf who had entered my cabin to kill me – to help me. We had bonded over our grief, both broken by something out of our control. However, I had to be careful.
“How do you feel about breaking and entering?”
“No qualms about that,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest and raising her eyebrows. “What do you need?”
“A friend who’s up for a cat rescue mission. Now.”