Wolf Bargain (Wolfish 3)

“And with that, you are now bound in blood and law to Rory, Kaleb, and Marlowe,” he says, his head bowing a second. “As we, the shifters call mated and as you … human soon to be shifter … call married.”

I feel a lump rise in my throat and new tears shine at the ends of my lashes.

It’s not the traditional ceremony I expected once. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Me, Rory, Marlowe, Kaleb … we’ve never been traditional.

This here, it feels right. Even with Remus and his pack here eying us, waiting to devour us at the first opportunity, I wouldn’t change a thing now that we’re here. Now that this moment has come.

I turn to face Rory, Marlowe, and Kaleb, as the final words are spoken over us. I ignore the stinging in my wrists and the silvery ice in my veins and instead, I focus solely on them. Them.

Soon as I am kissed by each of them, we will belong to each other and no one else in an unbreakable bond that can be undone only by death. The words at this ceremony would leave any traditional human wedding ceremony completely lacking.

Marlowe kisses me first and I can feel his warm body melt against mine as he holds me. It feels as though we are merging into one perfect union. Kaleb kisses me next and his tongue reaches so deeply into my mouth that I feel it make my thighs start to quiver as if it is almost as sensual as intercourse will be.

My mind immediately starts to wander, but then I remember that we are standing in front of a gawking crowd and I try to pull myself together with some sense of decorum. Rory kisses me last. His kiss … it feels final, somehow, as if it’s the seal to this bond that will never break.

Though part of me wants to stay after the ceremony—if just to keep an eye on our new, uninvited and unwanted guests—Rory and the boys are quick to try to usher me away.

“Romulus and Lydia will handle things from here,” Rory whispers to me, his lips igniting the back of my neck with a flood of heat. “We should leave now.”

While we can.

Before things turn ugly.

I know he’s right, that I should heed the way they tug at my hands and glance back towards the house, but something makes me want to stay. An anxious energy makes me feel like I need to see and hear what Remus is up to because I don’t think that Romulus is looking at the situation with a clear head.

I shouldn’t be the one with a clear head right now. I should be allowing myself to be swept away by my boys. My husbands.

But instead of heady happiness, that warmth inside me is overshadowed by the cool looks from Remus’ pack still gathered all around us.

So, I put one gentle hand on each one of the boy’s forearms in turn, then let Rory’s hand drop from mine.

“Stay with me here,” I whisper back. “Just for a few minutes.”

Romulus seems completely wrapped up with his brother and their supposed newfound bond, and he seems entirely too optimistic about Remus’ sudden change of heart. The boys agree to stay and hang out in the gardens for a little while to keep an eye on things, although I can tell that they really would prefer to go inside with me. They don’t really seem to believe Remus’ story either, but seem a lot less concerned about it than I do.

I think back to our last encounter, to the way Remus’ pack reacted to his responses—flashing from bloodthirsty to calm in a moment, and think this must be something similar. His pack is mirroring his emotions, staying calm when clearly they’d like nothing more than to rip my throat out.

And Romulus’ emotions must be trickling down to the boys too.

I might be a part of their pack, but I haven’t been fully turned yet. I wonder if his wishes, his desires, his emotions will affect me the same way once I am. Either way, for now, I still have my own mind.

And that mind is not convinced of Remus’ intentions here, today.

Sure, they haven’t stained the ground red with our blood yet. But that’s the thing. Yet.

There’s still six days in the ceremony before I’m officially turned. Still six days to change that.

Romulus seems to be feeling at ease and therefore the boys are feeling the effects of some of that as well, but Lydia is picking up on the same unease that I am. I can see it in her face.

I don’t know if it’s because she is part human, or because she is more like Romulus’ equal than just a pack member, but she’s definitely not feeling as comfortable with Remus as her husband is. I know that she can sense other people’s thoughts and feelings better than most, and I wonder if she is sensing something in Remus that is causing her greater concern than she’s showing.

Whatever it is, she seems to be the only one that I can talk to about it that will appreciate the valid concern.

I rub my wrists, still stinging from the claw slashes, as I walk over to her. The boys are still right near me, but they let me talk to Lydia a bit as they mull over which of them should get the first moment alone with me as if I don’t have an opinion in the matter.

So much for not feeling jealousy.