Whitney (2 page)

She wanted to have Callum tell Emmett and Levy to go screw themselves. She wanted him to pass along the message that she hoped they took their high-and-mighty butts over the edge of a cliff. She
wanted
to have him convey that she was definitely not attracted-slash-half-in-love-with the two superiority-complex having jerks.

Instead, she smiled, even if Scarlet huffed, and was as polite as possible. “Great. It’s about time they took off their ass-hats.”

Callum picked up his earlier growling and Scarlet was quick to jump in. “Tut-tut, wolf-boy. She’s still holding the Kickass Sister Card.”

Callum silenced immediately, his face turning a fun red, and he tilted his head in invitation. “Please, follow me.”

“See? There’s a benefit to your sister banging the HFICs.”

“What?”

“The Head Furballs in Charge.” Scarlet gave her a wink and an unrepentant grin. “Now, go kick some ass. I’ll check up with you later since, I’ve got some, uh… Screw it, I need my mates.” With that, her sister was gone, weaving her way back the way they’d come.

Finally, Callum opened a heavy door, and the portal swung wide to reveal the Ruling Wardens.

Tentatively, expecting them to pounce at any moment, she edged into the room. Maybe complaining until they agreed to meet with her had been a mistake.

The room was as grand as the rest of the hotel with its plush furnishings, authentic antiques and gold plated fixtures. Heavily cushioned, comfortable chairs surrounded the round, dark wood table and more than one set of claw marks marred the surface.

A sliver of desire shoved at her annoyance as she met Emmett’s brown-eyed gaze. Well, her attention remained on his eyes for all of half a second. It wandered farther to the line of his jaw and scruff that decorated his cheeks, then on to his broad shoulders and heavily muscled chest. She was about to keep on going and get to the good stuff when her focus was snared by Levy. He leaned forward and placed his palms on the table that separated them.

“Miss Wickham?”

Was she drooling? Whitney wiped the corner of her mouth and stared at Levy who glared at her in all of his blond hair, blue-eyed glory. A hint shorter than his fellow Warden, he was no less gorgeous or coated in muscles.

Scarlet had definitely been right on two counts: 1) werewolves had never seen an “ugly stick” and 2) they probably should have had the “Whitney being in ovelay with the ardensway” conversation.

*

It hadn’t been a fluke, a trick of lighting, or even a tiny mistake. Nope, Levy still desired Whitney Wickham.
Craved
.

He’d caught her scent the previous night while he’d dealt with Gabby’s Challenge. The delicate flavors called to his wolf, but he’d brushed them aside. He’d had larger issues at the time. Even this morning, he and Emmett endured meeting after meeting with various wolves. Long standing disputes were brought to them during every Gathering, and this year was no different. Being the Ruling Wardens came with as many drawbacks as perks.

A perk was the magic.

A drawback was the fact no matter how badly he and his wolf desired Whitney, he could never have her. He glanced at his partner and friend;
they
could never have her.

“Miss Wickham, please have a seat.” Emmett picked up where Levy left off, gesturing to one of the chairs opposite them.

His partner’s hand trembled and he sensed Emmett’s attraction to Whitney through their connection. Just as Alpha Pairs were mentally tied to each other, so were Warden Pairs.

Emmett?
Levy spoke to his partner telepathically. He was normally the one that had difficulty controlling himself. His magic was always looking for a moment to break free of him, but it seemed Whitney’s presence was pushing the other wolf to the edge.

Fuck, Levy…
Emmett took a deep breath.
Have you ever smelled anything so delicious?

No, he hadn’t. He’d never seen anything so appetizing, either.

Her shining brown hair was long, ends curling in rolling ringlets that draped over her shoulders while other lengths rested atop her lush breasts. The strands were like chocolate icing, begging him to come and taste her. It wasn’t just her breasts that were full, though. No, her whole body was layered in curves, ones he ached to trace with his tongue. In the human world, she’d be considered overweight. In theirs, she was perfect. Every inch of her made for him, for them.

Then again, she wasn’t. The laws were strict and older than anyone knew. It was illegal for a Warden to form a lasting attachment to a female. The risk of the woman influencing the Wardens was too great. The belief was the Warden magic, the bit of something extra inside them, didn’t leave room for the mating of souls. Too many Pairs had committed to a female and then all hell had broken loose. There hadn’t been a mating since it became known that Wardens didn’t have fated mates, even though the emotional connection existed. Laws had been created to make it flat out illegal to even try.

Whitney slipped into the chair, fingers clutched before her and pressed against the tabletop. Her thick thighs connected to wide hips that would cradle him while he…

Levy cleared his throat and willed his cock to soften. He’d been half-erect since she walked through the door, but the idea of sinking into her wetness had him hardening fully and throbbing in his slacks.

“We understand you have an issue you have deemed important enough to bring to our attention.” When the first hint of red rushed to her face, he winced and realized he sounded like an ass. The two of them had done the same thing the previous night.

Whitney pressed her lips together until they became a thin, white line slashing across her flushed face. “Yes, I have a
legitimate
,” she glared at Callum standing nearby and Levy held back his growl. The lower-ranked wolf had obviously done something to upset her. “A
very legitimate
, concern.”

Emmett leaned forward and took a deep, audible breath, coaxing Levy to do the same. Oh, shit, he shouldn’t have. The first hint of her scent struck him like a brick to the face. Whitney’s flavors reminded him of the rushing river near where they grew up, combined with the alluring scent of honeysuckle. He wanted to lap at her skin and see if she truly did taste like that sweet flower’s nectar.

“Explain.” Emmett barked the word, the man’s gaze focused entirely on a very pissed Callum, and a stinging whip of energy crossed the room. Whitney flinched at his friend’s tone, but it was Callum who whimpered and scurried from their presence.

Levy glared at Emmett and then reached across the table. He gave in to the wolf’s desire to touch the woman. Just once. He wasn’t breaking any laws by simply touching her. A touch wasn’t a human marriage. The wolf nudged and prodded him, encouraging him to feel the silkiness of her skin and commit it to memory.

He rested his palm on her fisted hands and squeezed, biting back his smile when a shiver raced through her. Releasing her, he leaned back into his chair and kept his tone neutral. “Miss Wickham, please explain.”

“As you know, I was ‘invited,’” adorably, she used air quotes, “to this year’s Gathering along with Scarlet and Gabriella.”

He and Emmett nodded in acknowledgement and he stole a closer look at his partner. A quick inventory revealed the man was in a state similar to his own. His nails were darkened due to his beast pushing through. A light dusting of white fur on his arms and his eyes were already taking on the lightened hue of his magic nudging forward.

Levy had to make sure the man’s irises didn’t go pure white. Hell, he needed to worry about his own, as well. The first rule they’d learned together years ago was to never allow the magic to gain control. The wolf was a beast with an animal’s black and white understanding of the world, but it was predictable. The magic that lingered in their blood… was not. It weighed and measured and made decisions that pleased it and not others. Wolves understood dominance and submitting to more powerful beasts. Magic was more like a three-year-old with immeasurable power. It wanted what it wanted and damn everyone else. Even if “everyone else” was the planet’s population.

“Unfortunately, I was ‘invited’ to the Gathering,” air quotes again. He wondered if she’d be using them throughout their conversation. He hoped not since it played havoc on his control. Even in her anger, she was beautiful and he wanted to kiss away her sarcastic frown. “And the Gathering is meant for Alpha Pairs to find their mate. A mate that has a Mark.” She had a tempting mole along the top curve of her left breast. He wanted to trace it with his tongue. “Thing about it is, I don’t have one.”

That brought him up short. “What?”

Emmett growled and Levy reached over and squeezed his partner’s shoulder. The same feelings coursing through him also flooded Emmett: confusion at how she’d come to be at the Gathering warred with rage at the idea of her actually being Marked and potentially mating with an Alpha Pair.

“I. Don’t. Have. A. Mark.” She tilted her head to the side, so like a wolf examining something. “Did the class not understand? I don’t know sign language, but I’m pretty sure they have a Rosetta Stone program for it.”

“Miss Wickham…”

“For the love of—” she huffed. “My name is Whitney and you mean to tell me you have
no
clue about why I’m sitting here? I thought that whole ‘tell me why you’re here’ thing was some throw back to a therapy session gone wrong. Did you seriously not bother listening to any of the messages Keller and Madden left for you about me?” Shit, her face was near glowing red now, and tears glistened in her eyes.

He cursed himself for both his ham-handed handling of her as well as getting caught up in his position. He knew her upset was their fault. He vaguely remembered Keller talking about his new mate-in-law and there being some problem… But then…

Whitney’s chest rose and fell in rapid succession, her heavy breathing now audible in the small room.

“Whitney—”

“Oh, bite me.”

“Gladly.” Emmett leapt to his feet and rounded the table in the blink of an eye, his magic and wolf lending a hand. His voice was rough and deep. Damn, his eyes were whiter than brown or even amber.

When his partner reached for her hand, she snatched it back and leaned deeper into the seat. Her anger permeated the air, the scent spicy and hot, arousing him further as it mingled with the delicate honeysuckle that clung to her skin. His fangs elongated, pricking his gums and then lowering until the tips rested against his lower lip. The wolf surged forward, lured by her burgeoning rage.

It wanted to bite her, wanted to take her up on her dare and sink his teeth into her flesh. His eyes zeroed in on his desired spot, where her neck and shoulder met. Right where… Where he was never, ever allowed to go.

Fucking laws.

Fucking magic.

“Let’s sit down and discuss this calmly.” Levy had to get the meeting back under control because Emmett sure as hell wasn’t handling things. His friend glared at him and took another step toward Whitney. “Emmett. Sit down.”

He was having enough trouble controlling his own fucking wolf, he didn’t need Emmett slipping his leash, too. Growling, his friend finally retreated and slumped into the chair beside him. As soon as it appeared the wolf was in for the long haul, Levy retook his seat.

“Okay, passions,” Whitney blushed and his words, taunting Levy once again, “are obviously running high. We apologize for not discussing this previously. Please tell us what happened.”

Whitney rubbed her head and her headache was like a physical thing inside him, pulsing within his mind. He shot a questioning glance to Emmett followed by a mental prodding.
Em?

Yeah, I got it, too.
The voice echoed and he mentally groaned.
I shouldn’t, but I do.

Empathy and telekinesis weren’t something the two of them had ever shared beyond themselves.

“On the morning of our thirtieth birthday—”

Emmett cut in. “You, Scarlet and Gabriella?” She glared at Emmett and Levy decided he wouldn’t be the one to interrupt her next.

“Yes. We’re fraternal triplets. Each of us received an ‘invitation,’” air quotes again. It seemed she
would
be using them when describing the summons. “At the exact moment of our births, in order. Unfortunately, they’d forgotten about the whole hitting thirty unmated rule and freaked.” Whitney snorted. “Scarlet actually tried to burn hers.”

Levy furrowed his brow. “Why would she do that? Being mated is an hono—”

She held up a hand. “If you’re about to say ‘honor,’ stuff it. Getting sniffed, patted on the ass, bitten, and then hauled to God knows where without a say in the matter isn’t an honor. It’s why both of them were so freaked. They’re happy. Now. But I know the two of them have dreaded finding their mates. A Marked’s life gets uprooted because some mutt sniffs her ass and—”

“No one sniffs you,” Emmett growled. Again.

“Of course not.” She released a shuddering breath and he ached to go to her. Something about this caused her anger and pain. He didn’t want her to ever experience either.

“Thank you for your interpretation of the process. That’s obviously something that can be discussed at a later time.” Any other time when Levy’s wolf wasn’t about to tear him in two. “Let’s get back on track.” Before he threw her on top of the table and claimed her and sentenced them to a life worse than death—a life locked in wolf form, never to be released again.

“Fine. We got ‘invitations.’ They’re Marked, I’m not. I’m human, but I got my butt hauled here. Then, you two took your merry time getting here. You didn’t even bother to, I don’t know, open a book to see if you screwed up your mojo or something.”

Regardless of his desire for Whitney, Levy’s wolf bristled at the implication they’d failed at their jobs. “We are the Ruling Wardens of North America, the most powerful and skilled Wardens ever born. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the spell we—”

“So, if it’s not you, it’s me?” Her eyebrows nearly met her hairline.

This time it was rage that poured off her. It blanketed the room and consumed his mind. The wolf and his magic rebelled at the idea she was mad at them and he opened his mouth to soothe her.