Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Rudra couldn’t put her finger on it, but Fenris seemed bothered. The blond giant regarded her with caution in between verbal sallies with her mother, who couldn’t seem to stop talking all through dinner.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying so, Fenris, but your coloring is very attractive. It’s been years since I’ve seen a golden wolf. Where have you been keeping yourself?”
He shot Rudra another one of those shuttered glances and answered Rena. “I’m a Silver Wolf. From what I understand, there hasn’t been a Golden Clan in ages. I’m one of your daughter’s dreaded enemies.”
Rena waved a dismissive hand. “Bah. Rudra wouldn’t know a good wolf if he up and bit her.”
“Mom.” Rudra wished she hadn’t agreed to this stupid dinner. Then again, she hadn’t. Wouldn’t a true alpha do what she wanted, regardless of her parents’ wishes? Maybe a true alpha would, but you’re not a real wolf. Her conscience never gave her a break.
“I don’t know. I think Red might recognize a good wolf if he bit her. ‘Course, it would depend on where he bit her, wouldn’t it?“ Fenris asked with a sly grin.
Even as he said it, the bite on the slope of her neck tingled.
Since their joining earlier, she couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d felt like inside her.
For years, she’d gone without sex. Hell, her last time had been so uninteresting she could barely remember it.
Roddy MacDugal two years ago. Or was it three?
Yet a few times with Fenris and she wanted to shove him down on the table and have her way with him.
I wonder if he’d go for that. Taking orders from me.
He’d been nothing but polite during dinner, and he hadn’t once tried to take over the conversation or the lead when her father served.
Most alphas demanded their food first, to be waited on hand and foot by others.
She never acted with such arrogance, but then, her human side had a distinct effect on the way she led.
Her mother’s nose gave a suspicious twitch, and Rudra lowered her attention to her plate. But she saw the half-hidden smile. So smug, so pleased.
A glance at Fenris showed him focused on his food as well, and he seemed to be trying very hard not to look at her. Shit. I hope I’m not broadcasting my arousal at the dinner table. Talk about embarrassing.
She hadn’t been so out of control since her last heat almost, well, since MacDugal.
For a while she’d thought something was wrong with her, but her father had explained that so much magic in her system just made her different, not wrong.
Unlike the other shifters that went into heat every month, she was simply more selective. Or so she told herself.
“You cook a mean steak, Rena,” Fenris said after a short silence.
Her mother beamed. “Thank you. I try to make an effort now and then, since not all of us can hunt for our dinner.”
Rurik chuckled, and Rudra realized she hadn’t seen her parents this happy in a long time.
“Funny wolf. I can hunt just fine.” Her father held up a hand. Blue sparks arced between his fingers. “But my kills tend to be well-done, not raw.”
Fenris grunted. “Sorcery must have its upside. Just a short while ago, your daughter held me against the wall by my throat. All that power at her disposal. Probably makes her an outstanding alpha. Well, that and her natural aggression.”
Rudra blinked, not sure she’d heard him correctly. “Did you just compliment me for being human?”
“No, for being a sorcerer. Your father tells me there’s a fine line between the two.”
Rurik glowed. “Bright boy. So wise despite your seeming youth. How old are you, Fenris? Three hundred? Four?”
Fenris seemed discomfited by the question.
Rudra took note. “Yeah, Goldie, how old are you?”
He scowled at her. “A century, give or take.”
She laughed. No way a wolf with his power had lived anything less than three hundred years. The older a wolf, the more power and standing he had. “Right. Come on, how old are you?”
“Twenty-five,” he muttered and rammed another piece of red meat into his mouth.
She stared in shock. “A hundred and twenty-five?”
“No, twenty-five years, period.”
Her mother gaped. “But you vibrate with power. You’re obviously going to be an alpha if you aren’t one already. You must have lived several centuries to accumulate so much energy.”
“My line is a bit different from other wolves.” Fenris glanced at Rudra.
She swore she saw a hint of vulnerability there. Perhaps his life in the Silver Clan hadn’t been as rosy as she’d imagined.
“The Mark of Lycos gives us an edge over others,” he went on.
Rudra studied the muted star on his forearm, once again taken with the sense of magic there. “Can I touch it?”
He shrugged and held out his arm. She saw his obvious strength in the defined muscle of the man and sensed the wildness of his wolf. But the mark intrigued her to sense that something she couldn’t quite name.
The moment her fingers made contact with it, desire arced through her body. A connection snapped between them. She felt a need to take him deep, to work hard to procreate his heritage. A faint growl rumbled through her, a warning to anyone near to back off, that this male belonged to her.
“Goodness, Rudra. I hadn’t realized you two had formally mated already.” Her mother stared, surprised but pleased. “Perhaps we could still have a small ceremony, anyway.”
Fenris captured her hand under his, gently pushing her palm away from his arm. “Oh no, Rena. We’re not mated. Just some intense chemistry, that’s all. My mark is some funky magic.”
“Oh.” Her mother looked disappointed, but the glance she shared with Rudra’s father said otherwise. She didn’t believe Fenris’ denial.
Fenris smiled. “Rena, about that dessert you mentioned?” Rudra could have kissed him for changing the subject. “Apple pie is my absolute favorite.”
“Rudra’s too. I’ll get it.”
Her father spoke as her mother left the room. “Rudra, we need to talk about Fenris.”
Please don’t let him lecture me on safe sex—which I so didn’t have earlier. The thought she might even now be carrying Fenris’ young stunned and pleased her, which was confusing in itself.
“You’re going to have to keep him safe for the next few weeks.”
Fenris kicked back in his chair. He locked his hands behind his head and whistled. “I like this. No arguments from me. Alpha’s father has spoken. Protect me, Red.”
“What?”
Rurik explained, “He’s vital to the spell that will solve our safety issues. No more attacks, no more magic wars, no more Mikhail. Then I can concentrate on the pack and your mother.”
“Dad, I protect everyone in the clan. He’s no different.”
“Hey,” Fenris argued. “I’m golden, I’m a werewolf, and I’m one hot lov—” he broke off and took a long drink of water. “One hot catch,” he ended with a pathetic save.
Her mother chose that moment to reappear. “That’s what I’ve been telling Rudra. You’re handsome and virile. Time she started thinking about settling down. Heck, she’s nearly two hundred and fifty years old.”
Her parents nodded. Her mother handed out slices of pie, but Rudra had lost her appetite. Her gaze caught Fenris’, and the heat in his green eyes took her breath away.
He nodded. “Yes. She’s old enough to start thinking about a mate. Now, I’m just a babe compared to Red, but even I can tell she’s got plenty to offer some male.”
Rudra stiffened at his age reference. “Oh? And what would that be?”
“You’re a take-charge kind of woman. You’re more mature and look great for your age.”
“Great for my age?” Her voice rose.