Page 33
Story: May the Wolf Die
I trusted Alaroth—he was the one who’d found me after I’d accidentally wandered through a portal I’d stumbled across in India. The one who had created the simulacrum that jumped in front of a truck for me so I could fake my death and join him in Vespera eight years ago. He’d taught me how to shift, how to use magic, and how to fight. He’d given me purpose and direction. And he’d rewarded me with whatever I’d wanted, although I didn’t want much.
Clothing was useless when I shifted in and out of my wolfform so often. Females, or even males for that matter, didn’t excite me these days. I had no use for money or jewels when he already provided me with food and shelter. All I really wanted was my sister, and we were working on that. The king also wanted my sister, albeit for very different reasons, and I worried about what he had planned for Marlowe.
He’d developed a taste for omegas over the years, having steady access to them through the havens. And with him seizing control of Marlowe’s destiny, he had also latched onto the idea that she would be his perfect queen.
Yet watching the way he treated females was often nauseating. Would he force my sister on his lap like this? Would I have to endure watching him fuck her from his throne during one of his lavish parties?
He finished quickly, waving the omega off as he tucked himself back into his pants. The corners of his mouth lifted in a slight smirk as he carefully observed me, my brow furrowed due to a building ache. “You’re clearly conflicted about something, Ezra. I see how hard you are trying to hide it from me.”
Crap. I had never quite gotten the hang out of keeping my thoughts off my face. The king was particularly tuned into my expressions, and could often read me like a book. Lying was out of the question —he could sense them too easily. But I still needed to be careful with my words.
“It’s about Marlowe…”
The king removed the snake from his shoulders, handing it to a nearby attendant so he could wrap my sister’s scarf around his neck, eyelashes fluttering as he continued to breathe her in. “And?” he asked.
“She’s… she’s very… outspoken. She’s not your typical, submissive omega. I only want to prepare you.”
He leaned forward, the smirk growing wider. “Do you think I am not up to the challenge?”
“No,” I replied quickly. “No, of course not. It’s just…”
“It’s just what? If I wanted a weak-willed, simpering whore, I clearly have my pick of them.” He laughed as he gestured around the room. “Your sister will be my queen. I do not mean to break her, simply mold her. There may be some adjustment pains, but her training will be much different than yours, if that’s what worries you. I will be taking a much gentler approach.”
I swallowed and bowed my head, placing a closed fist on my heart. “Thank you, Your Majesty. You have indeed alleviated my concerns.”
The King stood and walked towards me, taking my chin in his hand. “You love your sister dearly. I wish I could say I understood—I killed all of my brothers and sisters without a second thought to ensure my succession to the throne. However, it is admirable.”
He kissed my cheeks and then let me go, turning back around. “I do hope the next time I see you in here, you’ll be escorting my beloved, Ezra.” He sat back down and crossed his ankle over his knee, taking another whiff of my sister’s scent.
“Or there will be consequences.”
13
MARLOWE
There wasn’t too much I needed to pack—mostly clothes, accessories, and books. Then there were a few pieces of art I wanted to keep, plus a cute side table I’d bought with my first paycheck from the Treasure Island Flea Market, and of course, my mom’s urn.
I tossed Ezra’s in the garbage.
Everything else was Mike’s. I debated taking one of his old hoodies, but then decided I didn’t want any mementos. What we had would forever be tainted by how it ended.
Once everything was parceled up and shipped back to Wisconsin, we headed to the airport to board our flight to Chicago.
Spending those two days in San Francisco had been the perfect goodbye to the California chapter of my life. I’d taken Elias to some of my favorite places in between shoving everything into boxes, and he was the perfect travel companion.
I’d also reveled in getting to spend some real quality time with him. We talked endlessly about our pasts and our interests. Our hopes for the future.
We quickly fell into an easy, smooth rhythm, and I loved how he could anticipate all my needs before I had to vocalize them. Even if he teased me mercilessly.
“Okay, coffee for me, and a block of sugar for you,” he winked, handing me my latte at the gate.
I’d grown up human, expecting and desiring a monogamous relationship, so being with only one male felt comfortable and familiar.
But it didn’t diminish my feelings for the rest of my pack.Instead, when I’d had some free time to my thoughts, I’d started planning trips I could take with each of my alphas, getting the same kind of experiences with them individually.
I adored them all as a group, and we certainly had fun when we were all together, but this time with Elias had made me realize I needed to tend to each relationship as its own thing, too. We weren’t fractions of a whole, we were a group of complete people and should be thought of as such.
We took an Uber from O’Hare and arrived at Elias’s house in the early evening, a stunning Greystone located in Lincoln Park. I helped him sort through his own pile of mail while he lit a fire in the fireplace.
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