Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
VICTORIA
Ah, my wedding day, the day I’d both dreaded and… Alright, I’ll admit I hadn’t spent much time looking forward to it. A marriage was a practical matter. There had been no need to get myself worked up about it.
Now I stood at the altar.
Without a groom standing beside me.
The elder shuffled his feet and sniffed, something he’d done at least fifteen times so far, despite me offering him one of my spelled lozenges that would’ve soothed his throat and sinuses.
People shifted in their seats on either side of the aisle behind me, wolf shifters from my intended’s pack in human form on one side, and my family, their spouses, and a few assorted magical creatures among them on the other.
I checked my time spell again. He was fifteen minutes late. Fifteen minutes I could’ve spent cataloging the new batch of fawnpetal samples that had arrived yesterday, or analyzing the crystalline formation patterns in the dragon scales Adele had sent me.
Instead, I stood in the middle of an ancient grove, surrounded by trees so massive their trunks could house entire buildings, waiting for a wolf king who apparently couldn’t be bothered to arrive on time for his own wedding.
The carved tree stump serving as our altar had been decorated with musical flowers—the kind that released soft, lilting whispers when the wind passed through their specially shaped petals.
Ribbons and streamers in deep green and gold wound around the altar and up the nearest trees.
The effect was pretty in a rustic way that made my fingers itch for a proper laboratory setting with clean lines and controlled variables.
Orange bioluminescent fungi glowed along the rocks and tree bark, providing enough light to see. People whispered behind me, and I couldn’t blame them.
They’d come to the wolf shifter kingdom for a show, and it had yet to get started.
I adjusted the veil Cyrene had insisted I wear. The delicate lace kept catching on my hair and the fabric on my shoulders. And the wind kept whipping it into my face.
Typical alpha behavior, my companion, Acorn, said in my mind from his position near my feet. Making everyone wait while he marks territory or whatever it is wolves do. I do hope he doesn’t… spray.
He’s not marking territory, I said. They said he’s delayed by border patrol.
Which is just another way of saying he’s marking territory. He sprays. I just know it. I’ll have to go around and rub some of my own scent over it or he’ll think he rules the tree.
He does rule the tree, I said. This forest. This court. He’s the king.
I’m still going to rub my own scent here and there. Show some squirrel dominance. He’ll respect that.
I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling. A young wolf shifter with kind eyes approached from my left, wringing her hands.
“He’s coming, Lady Victoria. I promise. The border patrol just took longer than expected.”
“Of course.” I pushed for what I hoped was a reassuring expression rather than the grimace I felt like showing.
This was fine. It was a strategic alliance to foster good relations between the wolf shifters and witches. Nothing more or less.
Grandmother had explained it all very logically. Three of her granddaughters had already married successfully to strengthen different parts of our realm. I was simply the fourth piece of the puzzle.
The fact that I’d seen Feral exactly once, at Sasha’s celebration ball, where he’d stared at me. I’d stared at him, wondering if he’d approach me. Try to speak with me. Even then, I’d realized he was gorgeous, though too polished for a woman who’d rather smell like lab compounds than perfume.
A howl echoed through the grove behind me, raising every hair on my arms.
The crowd stilled and a hush fell over the meadow.
I turned as a big black wolf emerged from the tree line, power in every movement. His fur gleamed in the bioluminescent light, and his blue eyes locked onto me.
Oh no.
If this was Feral—and what kind of name was that?—I might be in trouble. This man was hot even in wolf form.
My body reacted before my brain could catch up, my heart rate spiking and my breath quickening. Every instinct I possessed recognized a predator.
He reached the head of the aisle and stalked down between the guests.
Magic burst through the air, and he shifted mid-stride.
The transformation rippled through him like water finding its level.
Fur receded into bronze skin. Four legs became two.
The wolf’s muzzle shortened and reformed into a strong jawline covered in dark stubble.
His black hair fell past his shoulders, and he wore leather and furs that did absolutely nothing to hide the corded muscles of his frame.
I tried not to stare and failed completely.
This was the same man who’d looked at me across the ballroom at Sasha’s celebration. Then, he’d made my skin prickle with awareness and my normally logical brain short-circuit.
I’d assumed my response was an allergic reaction. He was a wolf. Maybe I was allergic to his fur or his… dark stare.
He strode toward me with the confidence of someone who’d never doubted his place in the world. His blue eyes never left mine, and I forced myself to stand straighter and keep my chin up.
I was a Thornwick witch. I didn’t wilt under anyone’s stare, wolf king or not.
When he reached the altar, he gave me a slow, thorough look that made heat crawl up my neck.
“You’re late,” I said.
His mouth quirked up on one corner. “Border patrol ran long. I was checking on a specific outpost where we’ve had issues.”
“Perhaps if you’d accounted for variables when planning your schedule—”
The elder cleared his throat, his ceremonial robes decorated with lunar symbols shifting across his bare feet. He sniffed. Again. “Shall we begin?”
Feral growled, a sound I felt in my chest.
“Is there a problem?” I asked.
“The ceremony will take too much time.” His voice came out rough, like he didn’t use it often. “We should skip to the binding.”
“If you’d arrived on time, we’d be done already.”
He blinked at me, and his expression changed, a spark of what might be surprise or interest blooming there. “You’re not intimidated by me.”
“Should I be?”
“Everyone else is.”
“You’ll have to try harder if you want to frighten me.” I checked my timing spell again. “I have seventeen experiments waiting in various stages of completion, so if we could proceed?”
The elder’s lips twitched. “We gather under the ancient trees to witness the binding of King Feral Shadowpaw to Lady Victoria Thornwick. The old ways require blood and bond, hunt and heart.”
He continued with the traditional words while I tried to focus on the ceremony instead of the way Feral’s presence seemed to fill the entire grove. The man radiated heat like a woodstove, and the scent of pine and earth and something wild rolled off him in waves.
“The binding words,” the elder said, drawing my attention back to him.
Feral turned to face me, taking my hands in his. His palms were rough with calluses, his grip warm and firm. “I vow to hunt beside you, to protect what is yours, to defend our territory and pack with fangs and claws.”
Right. Primal wolf vows. I could do this.
“I vow to use my knowledge for our mutual benefit,” I said. “To apply logic and reason to our alliance, and to fulfill my duties as required by this contract.”
Acorn snorted in my mind. Duty and logic. A practical pact. Romance, it seems, is a skill that you lack.
“Hush.”
Feral’s eyebrow rose. “Excuse me?”
“I wasn’t speaking to you. I was telling my companion, Acorn, to stop chattering away in my mind.”
I can hear you, you know, Acorn said, sounding affronted.
“Acorn?” Feral asked.
I nudged my head to the squirrel by my feet.
Feral’s pale blue gaze drilled my companion. “I see. How did he come by that particular name?”
“He adores acorns.”
“I see,” Feral said again.
A nut well-stored outlasts the coldest snow. Territory management is just violence with a bow.
I relayed what he’d said.
“Does he always speak like that?” Feral asked, his mouth twitching upward, deploying an almost-smile that did dangerous things to my respiratory system.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Does he always speak in rhyme?”
“Not all the time.”
He grunted.
The elder wrapped a ceremonial cord around our joined hands. “Please speak the final words of the binding.”
“We hunt together,” Feral said.
“We protect together,” I said. Thankfully, they’d delivered a script before the wedding.
“We are pack.”
“We are—”
Magic slammed into me, nearly knocking me to the ground.
It erupted from where our hands touched, a resonance that sang through my bones and lit up every nerve. I gasped, staggering, and Feral’s grip tightened, steadying me. His eyes had gone wide, the pupils blown.
I gulped. “What just happened?”
“I don’t know.” His voice dropped to a whisper.
Magic pulsed between us, not his or mine but something entirely new. I could feel his wolf, wild and protective and utterly focused on me. Could sense the way his instincts screamed mate with a certainty that I found terrifying.
The elder smiled. “The bond recognizes truth. Please continue.”
Feral’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t let go of my hands. “We are pack.”
“We are bonded,” I said, my voice coming out steadier than it should after… that.
The magic settled into something warm and constant, a thread connecting us that I instinctively knew would never fully disappear.
“Why do you smell like sulfur and perawyld?” Feral asked, his nose wrinkling.
“It’s my research. I was synthesizing dragon fire compounds this morning.”
“You were what?”
“Synthesizing. It’s a process where you combine base elements to create—”
“I know what synthesizing means.” He looked both impressed and horrified. “You were playing with dragon fire on your wedding day?”
“I wasn’t playing. I was conducting carefully controlled experiments within established safety parameters.”
“Under the authority granted to me by the ancient laws,” the elder said loudly, “I pronounce you bonded. King and consort, alpha and—”
Feral swept me up into his arms.
“Put me down this instant,” I said, grabbing his shoulders for balance. “Feral!”
Ignoring my wiggles, he turned and strode down the aisle to the cheers and howls of our guests, aiming for the largest of the ancient trees.
“Where do you think you’re taking me?” I shouted, smacking his back with my palms. The indignity of it all.
“To our den.” His voice had gone rough again, his wolf rising close to the surface. “You’re mine now.”
“Absolutely not. We’re expected to make an appearance at our reception.” What would my family think?
A glance in that direction showed me my family was chuckling and pointing. Not in a mean way. They’d never do anything like that. But they found this funny.
He pivoted and lifted his voice. “Consider this making an appearance.” After dipping into a short bow, with me nearly tumbling off the front of his shoulder when he did it, he turned and continued striding toward the tree.
“That’s not putting in an appearance,” I growled.
“From my perspective, it is. I’m alpha. My word is law.”
“Put me down and treat me like a person capable of walking on her own.”
“No.”
Heat unfurled in my chest.
Definitely an allergic reaction.
He carried me inside the enormous tree, ducking through the opening carved into the trunk.
Ahead, a spiral staircase wound upward into darkness, the steps worn smooth by countless paws and feet.
Bioluminescent fungi provided orange light, revealing the living wood that still grew around the carved spaces.
Feral climbed and climbed and climbed, his breathing steady despite carrying me.
“How many hundreds of steps are there?”
“It’s not hundreds,” he said dryly.
“So tens of steps. How many?”
“One hundred and four total.”
“I could walk up them, you know.”
Behind us, Acorn scampered to keep up, chattering about how indignant he was and how his little claws were taking a beating on the wood.
“Your squirrel is following us,” Feral said, glancing over his shoulder.
“He’s protective.”
He scoffed. “What does he intend to do with his tiny incisors? They’re not real fangs.”
“You’d be surprised.”
Another snort rang out.
The staircase went on forever, winding up and up into the canopy. Through gaps in the wood, I caught glimpses of the forest spreading out below us, the grove growing smaller with each turn.
“You’re not even winded,” I said.
“Should I be?”
“You’re climbing one hundred and four steps.”
“I’ve carried elk carcasses farther.”
“That’s… disturbing and impressive at the same time.”
His chest rumbled with what might be a laugh.
We finally emerged onto a landing near the very top of the tree. Feral shouldered open a door carved with wolf heads and carried me into a suite that took up the entire upper portion of the massive trunk.
He passed through a sitting room and into a bedroom that was larger than my entire laboratory.
A huge bed dominated one side, covered in furs and soft-looking blankets.
Weapons hung on the walls, swords and bows and things I couldn’t identify, but I wasn’t one who enjoyed battling with things like that.
Words were my swords. My brain was my bow and arrow.
What caught my attention was the openings carved into the living wood, massive windows that showed the canopy spreading out in all directions.
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
Feral kicked the door shut in Acorn’s face.
“Hey,” I said.
He crossed to the bed and tossed me onto it.
I bounced once on the furs, my veil dislodging and sliding off to the side.
Feral stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at me with an expression I couldn’t read.
“So,” I said, pushing myself up onto my elbows. “About those experiments I mentioned.”
His mouth curved into a real smile this time, all teeth. “They can wait.”
My heart kicked against my ribs, and for once, I didn’t have a logical sentence ready.
I was bonded to a wolf king who carried me up one hundred and four steps and smiled like he wanted to devour me.
This was going to complicate my research schedule significantly.