Chapter 13 - Rissa
Accompanying Alpha Brooks to Whittier…
I must have thought myself brave when I accepted the offer.
It doesn’t feel that way right now as we’re seated around the grand table in the Blood Moon’s lavish hall.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, feeling heavily out of place when wealth and opulence are flaunted so freely, as if we’re visiting royals.
That’s what Alpha Dane appears to be as he sits at his throne—I mean, his chair at the head of the table—as instructions to his men and servants flow from his lips as easily as breathing.
I stifle the urge to laugh, turning my attention to the other Snehvolk wolves in attendance for the celebratory dinner.
At least Aurora and Yvonne are glad that I’ve tagged along, offering me encouraging smiles as they sit beside their mates.
That’s more than I can say for the Elders, who haven’t missed a chance to show their contempt by passing scornful looks my way.
It’s only because we haven’t made the mate bond official, and there isn’t a mark on my neck to prove it. I can’t imagine that the Council is against this mate bond when they’re the ones who suggested it in the first place.
What I am concerned about is tagging along when I don’t really belong in this entourage of Snehvolk wolves. Seated amongst alphas, their mates, and the betas of the pack, I feel as misfitted as I was back in school.
Brooks seems to notice when a servant comes along to serve a tray of hors d’oeuvres by our side of the table, and he gently places a hand on my thigh.
“Is everything okay?” he whispers.
I nod tentatively, becoming highly aware of his touch.
It was a bad idea to wear a summer dress for tonight’s gathering—not because it doesn’t fit with the aesthetic of the Blood Moon hall, which it obviously doesn’t, and I stick out like a sore thumb—but because it’s impossible not to feel the heat of Brooks’s hand slipping through the thin cotton material.
Gulping hard, I distract myself by picking up a cracker off the tray. I bite into it, sending crumbs gathering on my chest.
Brooks reaches for a napkin and holds it out for me. I can feel myself blushing profusely when I realize he’s seen the mess I’ve made, and he looks at my bosom peeking through the low-hanging neckline.
Quickly snatching the napkin and using it to brush away the tiny crumbs, I gasp when Brooks suddenly leans in.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he whispers with a hint of amusement in his voice.
Gulping hard, I only reply when he draws back.
“I’m fine,” I lie, glancing around at the room as more servants come over to serve the main course. “I’m just hungry, that’s all.”
“Sure you are,” Brooks teases with a wink that stuns me.
If I weren’t feeling so out of place and uncomfortable, I might have suspected that Brooks was flirting with me.
I ignore my suspicions, being careful to exercise my best table manners throughout dinner to avoid bringing unnecessary attention to myself.
As I become invisible, there’s only one set of eyes I should be worried about, as he seems to dote on me, refilling my wine and offering to pass me more sourdough bread when I run out.
“Th-thanks,” I say hesitantly, wondering what happened to the Brooks I know. Was he swapped out on our way to Whittier, or is the air out here doing something to him?
I shrug off my wariness and enjoy the rest of the lavish dinner.
When the servants roll out the desserts and flutes of champagne, Alpha Dane of Blood Moon stands up and taps a fork against his champagne flute, passing a smile of adoration at his pregnant mate seated beside him before turning to address the werewolves gathered at the table.
“Tonight, we celebrate the alliance between two of the most powerful packs in Alaska: Blood Moon and Snehvolk,” he says as he nods at Alpha Elias. “Though it is debatable which is the strongest pack of the two.”
Alpha Elias lifts his glass and chirps, “I would think Snehvolk is the better of the two. We have four alphas amongst us, remember.”
Alpha Dane chuckles bemusedly, and the whole room follows with a joint chorus of laughter.
“Now, now,” Alpha Dane chimes. “That’s not why we’re here tonight.
Tonight, we celebrate the alliance between our two packs and become friends instead of enemies.
There is a greater threat out there, and we’ve lost a few of our own to the demon’s attack.
” His face turns grim as he reaches for his mate’s hand, the touch of her dainty fingers seemingly soothing him so that he can continue his speech.
“Though we know that trouble is nigh, we should take this night as a chance to celebrate that there hasn’t been a demon sighting in over a week.
We will now join forces and combat this threat once and for all.
Cheers!” Alpha Dane raises his glass even further, and everyone seated does the same.
As I take a small sip to commemorate the alliance along with the other members of both packs, Brooks holds his glass out toward me.
“How about a small toast to celebrate my favorite witch?” he suggests with a cocky smile that throws me for a loop.
“Huh?” I interject bewilderedly, frowning at Brooks, who appears more handsome than ever.
Shaking my head and inadvertently brushing aside the thought, I gently clink my glass to his and take another sip that does little to lubricate my drying throat.
What is Alpha Brooks playing at?
Thankfully, after his long sip of champagne, he’s called to the front by Alpha Elias, joining the other sub-alphas to speak to Alpha Dane. Aurora and Yvonne, seated across from me, wave me over, and I’m just about to get up from my chair when the empty seat beside me is filled.
“Hello there, m’lady…” a husky voice drawls, stopping me in my tracks and prompting me to look over to find a devilish grin on a rather handsome, tanned face.
The man’s features are sharp and distinct, his dark hair sweeping across his forehead, the tips brushing his eyes in a way that makes him look rather mysterious.
“H-hi,” I greet back, surprised that the unfamiliar face belongs to a Blood Moon wolf. He seems friendly.
“I couldn’t help but notice that you were sitting here all alone,” the man says in a charming voice, his eyes twinkling as he stares at my face.
Feeling slightly unnerved that I’ve gained the attention of a wolf from the other pack, I shift in my seat. “I was—I was just going over to my friends.” I glance over the table for good measure.
The man follows my gaze and nods at Aurora and Yvonne, then turns his attention back to me. “Well, since we’re celebrating the alliance between our packs, I think it might be a good idea to make new friends.” He sticks his tattooed hand out. “I’m Lucien Volkov,” he says with a curt nod.
“Rissa Rudolph,” I reply as I slip my hand into his, the name ringing a bell. “Volkov? Alpha Dane Volkov—”
“Is my brother,” Lucien cuts in with a nervous chuckle. “My older brother.”
“Is your attempt at making new friends a way to outshine the alpha?” I tease, taking my hand back and folding it on my lap. Something about Lucien feels familiar.
It’s probably because of how much he reminds me of Brooks—if he were kind-hearted and had hazel eyes.
The thought leads me to glance over Lucien’s shoulder to where Brooks stands with the group of alphas, still holding his half-empty flute of champagne. It’s almost as if the moment I look up, he senses my eyes boring into his neck just above his black collar, and he turns to glance at me.
“On the contrary, my brother rarely outshines me, so it’s no competition,” Lucien continues, drawing my attention away from Brooks just as a frown furrows his brows.
“That speech he gave back there was probably rehearsed a million times over,” Lucien chuckles.
I’m barely keeping up with Lucien as he talks about how he’s the life of the party when I feel goosebumps erupt across my arms to warn me of impending danger.
To my utmost horror, that danger comes in the form of Brooks marching over and placing a hand on Lucien’s shoulder. He grips his shoulder with a tightness that pales his knuckles as Lucien flinches and turns his face to Brooks.
“Hey, Brooks,” Lucien greets, remaining calm despite the strain in his voice.
“What are you doing talking to Rissa?” Brooks grinds out as he stares at me, his eyes deep pools of silver blades that slice into my soul, causing me to tremble in fear.
“I was simply getting acquainted with new friends, Brooks,” Lucien says as he tries maintaining a straight face.
But Alpha Brooks crushes the man’s shoulder and growls.
“She is mine!” he roars, the last word ringing out so loudly and vulgarly that it stops everyone’s chatter, and the room goes deadly silent.
All eyes turn to us and the commotion Brooks is causing, and I feel myself curling inwards the moment Alpha Elias and Alpha Dane come over to find out what’s going on.
Brooks has pulled away, but it doesn’t stop him from growling and mumbling profanities at Lucien. His eyes are deadly pits of anger, and he looks like he’s about to physically fight the other man.
I can’t stand the raging testosterone, the way Brooks breathes heavily, and the humiliation I feel from this happening on another wolf pack’s turf. Without waiting for the fight to erupt, I push off my chair and rush down the hall toward the exit, the embarrassment too much to handle.
Is he crazy?
What was he thinking, embarrassing us like that in front of the Blood Moon Pack?
Fuming, I set off in the only direction I know—the row of guesthouses behind the Blood Moon hall, where the beta of Blood Moon showed us our sleeping arrangements for the night.
In a fit of stomps and angry huffs, I find my way to the guesthouses and recognize the one that had been designated for me.
Nearing it, my eyes widen in horror through my anger when pain slices through my gut and immobilizes me. I stop running, crippled by the ache that steadily grows and coils out into my core.
Hugging my arms over my midriff, I keel over and try getting a grip on myself just as footsteps pound the paved ground behind me. I glance past my arm to see Brooks rushing forward, wearing a look of concern on his face.
“Rissa!” he calls out, the shift of his voice from treacherous to worried prompting me to gather myself and continue toward the guesthouse.
The one-bedroom cottage is just up ahead, and I might be able to outrun Brooks if I push myself.
Pushing through the pain, I make it to the guesthouse, throwing the door open, my pulse ignited by the adrenaline pulsing through me, along with the pain of my heat.
Why has it come now, out of nowhere?
It’s only been a week since it happened the last time.
I grab the door, about to shut it, when Brooks comes rushing through in a flurry of hot pants.
“Rissa! Why are you running away from me?!” he glares accusingly, his eyes wide and cheeks flushed as if he ran a marathon.
“Of course, I was running away from you!” I throw back, ignoring the nagging pain in my belly, to lash out at him with a pointed finger in his face. “Did you see what you did out there?! You humiliated me, Brooks!”
Brooks reels back as if I physically struck him. “I don’t know what came over me out there! I was—”
“A madman, that’s what you were!” I spit back. “I can’t believe you’d act like that! What were you thinking?!”
Brooks grunts and curls his hands into fists, then swiftly spins around and punches the door shut.
“I wasn’t thinking—hng!” he growls as if in anguish as he hangs his head.
“Yeah, I could see that!”
To my surprise, Brooks spins back to face me, grabbing my wrists and staring deeply into my eyes, his face contorting with pain.
“You don’t understand, Rissa!” he groans as if he’s fighting some inner demon. “I am in pain. This is torture! I can’t be around you without wanting you! If I am a madman, then you are a fool if you can’t see what’s happening here!”
I should be appalled by what he just said; I should be disgusted by him once again berating me. But the more his face twists with anguish, as if reflecting the pain that twists my ovaries and begs for release, the more I realize that we’re both suffering.
I’ve only ever heard about the male werewolf’s rut when some of the soldiers whisper about their experiences in the clinic. It’s the most intense mating urge that a male feels, a surge of hormones so painful that it can be compared to a she-wolf’s heat.
Perhaps it’s my compassion for Brooks’s condition that spurs me on, knowing that I can’t bear to see him in pain. The last time I did, I was on the verge of escaping him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that when he needed my help.
Now, I still can’t seem to escape him, the heat of my inner wolf taking the reins and leading me to my tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. The moment our lips meet, an electric surge rushes through me and settles in my core, spreading out a warmth that seems to calm my heat.
Brooks is hungry for me, too, growling as he ravishes my lips and sweeps me off my feet. If this is the only way to sate and soothe the pain we’re experiencing, then I’ll have to throw caution to the wind.
For now.