Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
FERAL
Mate, my inner wolf growled.
Shut up, I growled in reply.
I stood over the bed, every muscle in my body locked down, fighting the urge surging through me like wildfire.
Mate.
The word echoed through my skull. My wolf clawed at my control, demanding I claim what was ours, that I mark her with my scent until no one could doubt who she belonged to.
“Shut up,” I snapped.
Victoria’s eyebrows lifted, and she shoved her veil off her pretty face. “Excuse me?”
Such high cheekbones. And thick, long dark hair I ached to thrust my face into. I wanted to wrap it around my hand and drag her close.
Kiss her.
I clenched my jaw harder. The scent of magic and flowers filled my lungs, but underneath I found her. Pure Victoria. Intelligent and fierce and utterly unbothered by the predator looming over her bed.
That only made the craving worse.
My breathing grew heavy, each inhale bringing more of her scent, more fuel for the fire I was trying to douse. The bond hummed between us, wrapping around my ribs in iron bands.
I wanted to crawl onto that bed and bury my face in her neck and taste her skin, feel her pulse jump against my tongue.
Instead, I spun on my heel and stalked across the big room and out onto the enormous balcony.
The cool air hit my face, but it did nothing to reduce the heat burning through my veins. Below, the canopy spread out in waves of every color imaginable. My kingdom. My territory. The responsibility I’d carried since my father died, and I had to step into the alpha role at nineteen.
“Strategic marriage,” I muttered under my breath. “Duty. Border alliances.”
The words tasted bitter.
Victoria climbed off the bed, smoothing her wedding dress. She removed her veil, laying it across the chair with the same careful attention she’d probably give to arranging her laboratory equipment.
She didn’t appear nervous or upset or even dismayed.
My growl rumbled through my chest.
She glanced at me, completely unfazed, and crossed to the door as frantic scratching sounded from the other side.
The squirrel burst in the moment she opened it, chittering with what I could only interpret as indignation. It scrambled up her skirt and perched on her shoulder, still complaining.
“I know,” she told it. “That was very rude of him.”
I turned back to the forest, gripping the railing. The wood creaked under my fingers.
“We need ground rules,” I said as she joined me on the balcony.
“You’re right.”
Her calm agreement set my teeth on edge. I pivoted to face her, crossing my arms on my chest. “Stay out of my way.”
“Whose way would I be in?”
“Don’t interfere with pack business.”
“I wouldn’t know how to interfere even if I wanted to.
” She tilted her head, studying me the way she probably studied her experiments.
“What constitutes pack business exactly? Do meal preparations count? Social gatherings? Or are you referring specifically to territorial disputes and hierarchy challenges?”
The intelligent questions caught me off guard. Most people cowered when I used this tone. She just wanted information.
“Territorial disputes. Hunt organization. Anything involving pack dynamics or security.”
“And the shifting sickness someone mentioned prior to the ceremony? Would attempting to research a cure fall under interference?”
I tightened my arms on my chest. “You weren’t supposed to hear about that.”
“Well, I did.” She adjusted her dress again. “Tell me more.”
“No.”
Her head tilted. “Why not? Don’t you need help?”
“No, we do not need help.”
“It appears you have no problem shifting, so my assumption is that the affliction is impacting others within your pack.”
“The shifting component is a recent problem. Our healers have been handling it.”
“Except they haven’t if it has worsened.”
“I told you to let it go.”
“Adults or pups?”
My growl ripped out. “Adults, but do not pursue this.”
Acorn’s gaze shot from her to me, and I sensed a touch of superiority in his posture, which only made me want to growl even louder. Not that me huffing was having any impact on my wife.
Why in all the fates wasn’t she afraid?
Frowning, she tapped her chin. “Is it some sort of magical ailment?”
“I don’t know,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Well, I’m sure you looked into it.”
“I have.”
“Without the ability to shift, the affected pack members are physically weakened.”
“Do you think I’m not aware of that?”
She blinked slowly, staring past my shoulder. Thinking, I assumed.
“I assume rival clans are beginning to track your pack’s vulnerable scent,” she said.
I stared at her. She’d pieced together information from a single statement on someone’s part and understood the implications immediately.
The squirrel chittered, and Victoria’s lips twitched. “Acorn says that sounds like a territorial…” She paused. “He used a term I won’t repeat, but I believe the polite version is ‘marking problem.’”
I frowned. “Marking?”
“You know.” She waved a hand vaguely. “Spraying.”
“Spraying.”
“To establish dominance.”
“I know what spraying means.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “We don’t— That’s not how pack scent works.”
“Oh.” She looked genuinely curious now. “How does it work then?”
“That’s not the point.” I dropped my hand, focusing on the original conversation. “The point is that I’m too busy dealing with the sickness, my responsibilities as alpha king, and the political complications of our union to deal with a mate.”
The word hung between us.
“To deal with someone who doesn’t understand pack dynamics,” I quickly said, hoping she’d believe the correction. “This marriage is strategic. It strengthens the borders and creates an alliance between wolves and witches. That’s all it needs to be.”
Victoria nodded, her expression thoughtful. “So you want me to avoid interfering with pack business and keep my distance.”
“Yes.”
“That seems reasonable.”
Too reasonable for someone who’d agreed to marry a stranger a short time ago and got carried up a hundred and four steps against her will.
I watched her carefully. The wheels were turning behind those intelligent eyes, and I suspected she was planning something, working through variables and possibilities.
My wolf perked up, interested despite my resistance. Strong mate. Clever mate. Good for pack.
“Stop it,” I huffed.
“Stop what?” Victoria took a step closer, and a smirk played at the corner of her mouth. “I’m simply agreeing to your very sensible ground rules.”
My body responded to her proximity, my damn cock moving in my pants. Heat flared through my chest, my pulse kicked up, and every instinct I possessed zeroed in on the woman standing only a short distance away.
She was testing my boundaries and limits, and probably cataloging my reactions for later analysis.
Her smirk widened a fraction.
My wolf wanted me to kiss it off her face. Wanted me to crowd her against the wall and find out if she’d keep that confident expression or if it would shift into something heated and wanting.
I clenched my jaw so hard it ached.
She stood her ground, watching me with her sharp eyes, completely unafraid. Her wedding dress fit her perfectly, showing the curve of her waist and the set of her shoulders. This woman was strong, though I sensed her strength came from her mind rather than physical power.
Our pups would be strong. The thought drifted up from my wolf. Smart like her, protective like him.
I shoved the image away, but not before my brain helpfully supplied a picture of Victoria pregnant, her hand on her rounded belly, with that same confident expression on her face.
“Is there something wrong?” she asked.
“No.”
“You’re growling again.”
I forced myself to stop, to breathe through the frustration of wanting something I couldn’t have.
The sickness was spreading. Four more pack members had lost their ability to shift this month. I spent every spare moment researching, consulting with healers, and tracking down ancient texts that might hold answers. I couldn’t afford distractions or to give in to the mate bond pulling at my chest.
Even if she smelled like magic and flowers and pure, undiluted temptation.
Even if her mind worked faster than most wolves could run.
Even if the bond hummed with approval every time I looked at her.
“I need to be clear about something,” I said. “This marriage solves a political problem. I don’t have time for distractions.”
Her eyebrow arched. “Why am I a distraction?”
“Because you’re intelligent.”
Her snort rang out, though she covered her mouth with her hand.
I persisted. “You’re not intimidated by me, and you ask questions instead of just accepting orders.”
“I see.” She peered at me for a moment longer before nodding. “I’ll do my best to be less distracting while staying out of your way and not interfering with pack business.”
I turned away, gripping the railing. “There’s one more thing.”
“Oh?”
“We’re sharing the bed.”
Silence rang out.
“Does your manhood—wolfhood, that is—demand such a thing?” she asked.
I slanted my head her way. “It’s for appearances.”
“Your pack expects their alpha king to claim his mate.” Her tone came out matter-of-fact, like she was stating a scientific observation. “But we’ve agreed this is purely strategic.”
“No one else needs to know that.” I turned fully, watching her process this. “As far as they’re concerned, we’re properly bonded. Sharing a bed reinforces that image.”
“And in reality?”
“I won’t touch you.”
The words felt like a vow and a lie at the same time. Every part of me wanted to do exactly the opposite. If I pulled her close, would I feel her heartbeat against my chest? If I tangled my fingers in her hair, would I learn what sounds she made when someone touched her that way?
My wolf howled. Territory. Claim. Mine.
“I promise,” I said, more to convince myself than her. “You have my word.”
Amusement flickered across her face. “How magnanimous of you.”
“I’m being serious.”
“I’m sure you are.” She left the balcony and crossed the room to a chest near the wardrobe, opening it to reveal nightclothes my staff had unpacked for her.
She’d sent her things ahead days ago, along with a lengthy list of instructions I’d passed onto my staff without actually looking them over.
“I appreciate the clarification of expectations.”
She was much too calm and accepting about this arrangement. As if she’d already worked through every angle and reached a conclusion I couldn’t see.
Her squirrel leaped off her shoulder, soaring over to land on the bed. A flying squirrel. Great. Maybe it would fly through a window opening and remain outside.
I wasn’t actually angry with him, but he was an added complication I hadn’t expected.
I needed to ignore him.
The squirrel chattered from the bed, where it had claimed one of the pillows. My pillow, in fact.
“What did he say?” I asked despite telling myself I didn’t care.
“He says you protest quite a lot for a man who would like his wife to believe every word of his own clever plan.” Victoria pulled out a nightgown, examining it with the same clinical attention she’d given everything else. “I told him to mind his own business.”
The casual way she translated the squirrel’s commentary made my insides twist, though I wasn’t sure what the feeling meant. Most people would’ve lied or deflected. She stated it plainly, as if honesty was easier than deception.
Which it probably was, for her.
“I have to leave,” I said, moving toward the door. I needed distance before I did something stupid like close the space between us and test whether her lips were as soft as they looked. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back late.”
“Will you wake me?”
“No.”
“Good. I’m not a pleasant person when my sleep is interrupted.”
I paused with my hand on the doorframe, glancing back at her. She’d laid the nightgown across a chair and was now examining the various weapons on my wall.
The sight of her in my space, touching my things, and studying my territory with her analytical mind did something to me I couldn’t define.
I left before my wolf could offer any more commentary about mates and claiming and forever.
The door closed behind me, and I took the stairs down two at a time, doing my best to get away from the woman who’d somehow become both my salvation and my biggest complication in the span of a few hours.
Outside, I strode across the compound, ignoring those of my pack who called out.
This would be fine. We had a strategic marriage. We’d set clear boundaries. We’d live separate lives under the same roof.
I shifted mid-stride, letting my wolf take over, and ran into the forest without looking back.