Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
VIDAR
The rule in the Blackwood household was: if you ate the food, you cleaned the dishes. Even though our mother had taught each of us to cook meals from scratch, she preferred to rule over her stove. Which meant her children always got cleanup duty.
It was fine with me and my siblings. Mainly because our parents tended to get a little randy after they ate. The clatter of cutlery and glassware only barely muffled their activities upstairs. Since Addie had helped serve, she was spared from cleanup duty.
I found her in the garden, at the edge of where the manicured perfection of the Blackwood estate surrendered to the wild.
White moonflowers climbed the stone trellises, their petals glowing like fallen stars in the dark.
Low stone walls—weathered and furred with silver lichen—snaked through rows of dark lavender and wild rosemary.
It was a sensory gauntlet designed to provoke a shift, a place where the domestic and the feral bled together.
I stopped a few paces behind her. I didn't need my eyes to know she was struggling. The scent of her wolf was thick, a metallic tang that clung to the back of my throat. She was vibrating with the need to change, her shoulders hunched as she fought to keep the animal behind her ribs.
"You can shift out here. The perimeter is secure. All humans in the area are either pack or they work for a pack family."
Addie didn't turn around. She didn't even acknowledge the offer. "I can't marry you tomorrow, Vidar."
My jaw clenched, a reflexive snap of bone. The contract was signed in blood and bank transfers. There was no world where she wasn't officially mine by tomorrow's sunset.
I stepped closer, close enough to see the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up. I realized then that I liked this: the way she bristled, the way her scent spiked into something spicy and flustered when I crowded her. It was a hunt of a different kind.
"I have nothing to wear. No dress. No... anything."
"I'm not interested in your clothes, Adolpha."
"Please don't call me that."
"Would you prefer honey? Sweetheart?" Didn't matter to me as long as she was going to be my wife.
"Addie is fine. I don't like being reminded of him."
My fingers grazed the silk of her blouse, feeling the frantic heat of her skin underneath. Her breath caught, a jagged hitch that sent a jolt of predatory satisfaction through my chest. The gold started to bleed into her emerald eyes.
"I'm not interested in your clothes, sweet Addie. I'm only interested in your loyalty." I tugged gently at the fabric of her shirt. "Take it off."
She balked, her eyes widening. "You said you'd only fuck me when I'm fertile."
"I’m not going to ravish you in the dirt. We're going for a run. Our animals should get to know each other before the vows."
"I'm not hungry after that three-course meal. I don't want to hunt."
"We aren't hunting. We're running. Let the wolf out, Addie. She’s screaming to breathe."
She hesitated, her gaze darting toward the tree line and then back to me. There were flickering shadows in her eyes that made my wolf tilt its head in suspicion.
I stepped into her space, looming. "Is there something wrong with your wolf?"
"My wolf is perfect," she hissed, the defiance returning in a flash.
"Then let her out. She should meet her mate before we make it official."
The ache in her was palpable now, a physical pressure radiating off her skin. She needed the shift. I sensed the bone-deep itch of it in my own marrow. Why was she denying herself? Would I need to take this decision from her as well?
I was seconds away from using my Alpha voice—from commanding her to submit to the change—when she finally gave a sharp, jerky nod.
"Turn your back."
I found the request absurdly cute. I doubted I'd make it to her fertile time before sticking my nose into that sweet smelling cunt of hers. But I did as she asked. I turned, staring out at the dark silhouette of the oaks.
There was a rustle of cloth falling onto the grass. Then came the wet, heavy grunt of a shift. The pop of bones bending. The wet slide of muscle reforming. It was a violent, beautiful symphony. When the sounds faded into the rhythmic panting of an animal, I turned back.
My heart didn't just skip; it stopped.
Standing on the manicured grass was a red-furred wolf, her coat the color of a dying sun and polished copper. She was lean, powerful, and the most stunning creature I had ever seen on four legs or two. Her eyes were still emerald, glowing with a fierce, intelligent, golden light.
I dropped to all fours as a man, my palms flat against the cool earth, and approached her with cautious reverence. I wanted to scent her, to memorize the curve of her spine, before I let my own beast out to greet her.
She didn't stay still. As I crawled forward, the red wolf stepped back, her paws silent on the damp moss. Her ears flattened back in a sharp V of suspicion. She was looking at me not as a partner, but as a threat.
I stopped, my chest vibrating. I let out a growl—not a bark of command, but a deep, resonant warning that rippled through the garden air.
She froze. Then, slowly, she dipped her head, her gaze dropping to my human hands.
The sight of it irritated me. I wanted to remind her of what my father had said only an hour ago—that no daughter of his lowered her head.
My family had opened the gates. They had accepted the fire she brought into the house.
But she was still standing on the threshold, refusing to walk through. She needed to get on with it.
I knew, even if she didn't, that their acceptance came with a price.
The ultimate responsibility for her loyalty didn't lie with my father or my brothers.
It lay with me. If she ever betrayed this pack—if that Vane blood in her veins proved more potent than the Blackwood name—I would be the one to take her out.
I had seen what betrayal did to my father years ago, how it had gutted him from the inside out. I would never let it go that far again. Not even for my wife.
I lunged forward, my movements a blur of human limbs and predatory intent. I caught her by the scruff of her neck, my fingers burying deep into that thick, copper fur.
She let out a startled yip.
I didn't let go. I hauled her toward me, dragging her until we were nose to snout.
Panic radiated off her animal form. Her heart was a wild, frantic pulse against my chest. Slowly, she raised her eyes to mine.
There it was—that emerald defiance, the stubborn spark that refused to be extinguished.
And with it came that scent, that addictive, spicy floral musk that made my own wolf howl behind my ribs.
I leaned in, pressing my nose against her wet, black snout. It was an intimate, jarring collision of two worlds. Addie went rigid. Then, her tongue flicked out, tentatively licking the tip of my nose.
I grinned, a low chuckle escaping my throat. I let my face sink into the fur of her neck, nuzzling deep, inhaling the scent of the wolf and the woman until it saturated my lungs. Tension bled out of her. Rigid muscles softened under my touch as she finally allowed herself to settle.
I released her and stood up. The moon caught the red of her coat as she sat back on her haunches, watching me.
I didn't turn away this time. I undressed slowly, letting the silk and leather fall to the grass, giving her exactly what she’d asked of me—the chance to see.
Her emerald eyes tracked every movement, every scar, every tensed muscle, until I stood naked before her in the silver light.
Then, I let the darkness take me.
The shift was a roar in my blood. My bones shattered and elongated. My skin stretched and thickened into midnight fur. My human thoughts dissolved into the hyper-focused reality of the wolf.
I was a large black beast, a shadow given teeth and weight.
We repeated our initial dance. I approached her as an equal this time, my paws silent on the lawn. We came nose to nose, inhaling each other. I let out a sharp, inviting huff, then spun toward the tree line.
I didn't look back to see if she followed. I knew she would. We hit the woods as a single blur of motion, the garden disappearing behind us as we surrendered to the run.