Wolf and Punishment (The Alaska Princesses Trilogy, Book 1) (17 page)

In fact, most wolves used full moons the way humans used binge drinking. So what if they killed animals, or got into brutal fights with other wolves, or even had sex with their mates out in the open where everyone could see them? Nothing could be held against them when they were in wolf form.

However, Janelle hadn’t liked the idea of losing control in front of people, of waking up naked in the snow, having no idea what animals she might have hurt or possibly killed while in wolf form. Instead, she used the full moon as an excuse to escape the unrelenting public eye, turning by herself in the large cage her parents had bought for her when she told them she didn’t want to turn on the mountain any more at the age of twelve.

The former Wyoming royal family must have felt the same way she had about appearances, because they had four turning cages in their basement, all of which were top of the line. Steel bars painted over with gold paint to take away from that jail cell look. A large screen TV on the wall opposite the cell, so the cages’ residents could catch a movie while they waited for sunset. And locks on daylight timers, so as soon as the sun came up, the cage doors opened, allowing the occupants to exit without any further ado. The cells floors were covered in a grass that looked so real to the eye and touch, only the fact that it had survived six of her changes unscathed let her know it was fake.

Six changes. Had she really been there that long? Janelle settled her back against the wall as she contemplated how little her relationship with Mag had progressed despite the fact they’d been living under the same roof all summer. And now she was about to undergo a seventh change…

…but not alone this time. Less than fifteen minutes before the projected moonrise, Mag came rushing down the stairs. He put himself in the cage next to hers and let out a grunt of relief when the cell’s electronic lock engaged.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him. Then remembering her princess manners, she got to her feet, resetting her tone of voice. “I mean, wouldn’t you prefer to turn on the mountain tonight?”

A look of irritation crossed his face. “Yeah, I like changing outside better, but I was on the phone with… someone and lost track of time. I didn’t think I’d make it to the mountain before moonrise, and tearing somebody’s house up if I don’t make ain’t a good look, yeah?”

“No, I suppose not,” she agreed, wondering who he’d been talking to. Was it Sophia again?

A jealous knot twisted her stomach, even as she asked him with a well-trained hostess’s aplomb, “Would you like a snack for later?” She indicated the Perrier bottle and shatterproof dish of cheese and crackers she’d brought down for herself. “If you don’t think your wolf will mind eating off the floor, I can pass some of this through the bars.”

He looked to the plate then back to her. “Seriously? You feed your wolf cheese and crackers and let her drink Perrier?”

Janelle laughed as she bent down to pour the sparkling water into the large bowl before the moon rose and she was no longer able. “Yes, of course. She’s part of me. Why not let her have the things we both enjoy?”

“So even your wolf is fancy.”

This observation didn’t come out like a compliment and the smile fell off Janelle’s face. “If you give me a list, next time I’ll bring down some of the things you enjoy, too. Just in case you get stuck on a call again. Were you, um… talking to Sophia?”

She realized this was a bold question, especially for a princess to ask her would-be mate, and she kept her eyes on the water she was pouring into the bowl as she waited for his answer.

The answer never came. “I see you’ve got two silk robes,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard her question.

She glanced at the silk robe pooled on the floor outside the cage. It matched the one she currently wore. “Yes, one for before and one for after.”

“Why don’t you use the same robe? Most wolves just take off their clothes and leave them outside the cage.”

As if to prove his point, Mag began to undress himself. And Janelle quickly looked away, but not before she caught a glimpse of his naked body. And of what lay between his legs—or in this case, sprang to full attention.

Her throat went very dry, and though she knew it would be rude to stare, it was difficult for her to keep her head turned toward the neighboring empty cage, like trying to resist a powerful magnet.

“I asked you a question, Janelle.”

Janelle swallowed. Yes, he had. She busied herself with returning to the position she’d been in when he’d first come down the stairs, using the wall of her cage as back support when she sat down. “I guess we all have our little peccadilloes. Mine is staying clothed until the change overtakes me.”

She heard the soft thwack of his back slapping against their shared wall. He must have sat down, too. Was it safe to look now? She risked a glance.

No, no it wasn’t! True, he was sitting against the wall just like her, but unlike her, his arousal was obvious. His erection lay clear and undeniable against his stomach. She quickly looked away again and silently cursed as she felt her own nipples hardening underneath the silk of her robe.

Here she was getting turned on by the sight of him, but he’d just gotten off the phone—most likely with another woman. Who knew who had inspired the impressive show between his legs? Her or the human? She took solace in the fact that her pre-heat body was physically incapable of giving off an arousal scent. Also, thank God, she was covered up, which meant he wouldn’t be able to tell just how affected she was by the sight of him naked.

“What would you do if I asked you to take the robe off?”

Janelle froze. He was testing her. He had to be testing her. But he also sounded genuinely curious about her answer.

She cleared her throat. “I’m pledged to you. If you asked me to remove my robe, of course I’d honor that request—”

“I want you to remove your robe.” His voice was low now. Low and dark, and she could feel his steady stare like a weapon loaded and aimed straight at her...

She took off the robe, as quickly as she could, shoving it through the bars before she could chicken out. She then quickly returned to her seated position, bending her knees and covering her breasts with one arm—

“Put your arm down,” he said beside her.

She put her arm down, squirming a little bit when it brushed over her pebbled nipples in its descent down to her knees. Then she kept her eyes on the ceiling and focused on not melting into a pool of embarrassment.

Mag wasn’t in a courteous mood. “So this is part of the princess package? Whatever I ask you to do, you do it?”

“Within reason. For example, I couldn’t do anything that went against Lupine law, especially now you’re a king and subject to Lupine law, too.”

“No, wouldn’t want to go against Lupine law.” There was clear innuendo in his voice, and she knew he was all but calling her a hypocrite outright after what they’d done three years ago. But then he said… “I don’t like getting overtaken.”

“Hmm?” she said, dragging her focus from how uncomfortable she felt, fully exposed underneath his gaze. “What do you mean?”

She could now hear him shifting around next door, and she wondered what he was he doing, but was too afraid to look.

“You said you like to stay in your robe until your wolf takes over. I don’t like being overtaken like that. Pisses me off.”

“I can see why you’d feel that way, but we’re werewolves. There’s not much we can do about…”

Mag let out a loud grunt, and suddenly he smelled… different. Janelle looked. She couldn’t help herself.

An exceedingly large—at least five-feet-tall, even on all fours—arctic wolf with a coat of fur as white as snow now stood in Mag’s cage, its moon-colored eyes glowing. And even though this particular breed had been a long time mascot of the Arctic Wolf Games, she gasped.

Arctic werewolves were extremely rare. Most Alaskan weres were either gray like her father, or some combination thereof. She and her sisters had mostly black coats with gray muzzles and gray fur on their stomachs, necks, and paws. Janelle knew humans sometimes went to the treacherous northern regions of Alaska to hunt the non-hybrid variety of arctic wolf, but Janelle had never set eyes on one. Not until now.

“You’re beautiful,” she said, even though she knew Mag’s human was too far down to hear her compliment. He hadn’t let his wolf overtake him, instead, his human had stepped back and pushed his wolf front and center. A prideful move, to say the least, especially considering changing before a full moon was both painful and unnecessary.

The wolf tipped his muzzle through the bars.

“Oh, do you want me to…?”

She got on her knees and carefully petted his muzzle, but then the wolf’s long tongue suddenly flashed out, the soft tip of it, running over her exposed nipple.

She gasped and fell backwards onto her elbows. The laws on bestiality among werewolves were quite clear on this matter. Werewolves could have relations in human or wolf form, and never the twain shall meet.

But tell her body that. She looked down at her bottom half to find the lips of her mound quivering as if in anticipation. And she suddenly realized her breasts might be out of the Arctic wolf’s reach, but another part of her was now fully exposed to its tongue.

She lay there, frozen in place, staring at the beautiful white wolf. He wouldn’t…

The wolf dipped his head and his tongue met the surface of her mound, so warm and wet and soft that every lap sent a bolt of mind-melting sensation through her entire body.

That was the last thing she remembered before she felt a familiar tingle go down her back and her own gray and black wolf overtook her.

The next morning, she awoke completely naked with her back curled up next to the barred wall she shared with Mag’s cage. It was obvious she’d fallen asleep trying to get her body as close to the bars as possible—or as close to the wolf on the other side of the cage as possible. Also, her throat hurt, raw and burning like she’d used it hard the night before. Howling? Whimpering?

And what was that smell? She sat up quickly and saw the droplets of blood in the other cage. Mag’s blood. What the… what had happened? But Mag was gone, the door to his cell having slid open now that daylight was upon them.

17

“B
IG house. Mysterious male running hot and cold on you. You’ve obviously fallen into a Victorian-era novel. She-Wolf Eyre,” Alisha said. “Ooh, or maybe he’s committed some kind of crime that has him racked with guilt and slowly going crazy! This Sophia—are you sure she doesn’t spell her name with an f? Because if she’s a prostitute with a heart of gold, then I’m calling this novel
Wolf and Punishment
!”

Janelle instantly regretted calling Alisha. She’d been so shaken up all morning, she’d decided to reach out to her sister who always seemed to have some fascinating piece of human or wolf history to counteract any story she was told—according to Alisha, there was no such thing as an original story, just wolves who didn’t know their history well enough to avoid making the same mistakes twice. But in this case, her middle sister was proving to be less than helpful.

“Alisha, please don’t joke about this. I’m very confused now, and I don’t know what I’m going to do if this pledge agreement doesn’t work out.”

“You mean you don’t know what
Dad
will do if this pledge agreement doesn’t work out. You’ll be fine. He’s the one who needs to wrap his head around abdicating his title.”

Janelle bit her lip. It must be so nice to be a middle sister, she thought bitterly, to go through life thinking the rules of being a princess just didn’t apply to you. Rafe had come all the way to Alaska to pledge her sister, but instead of cooperating, Alisha had not only refused to go home since February, she’d also run off to teach history to wolves at a Canadian summer college program. To top it off, she’d taken the trip with a fellow academic, one, which, according to Tu, had Alisha’s nose, open, “even though he’s a nerd and Rafe’s way hotter.”

Of course, Alisha didn’t care how her actions affected the Alaska crown. She’d never had to, and even though her sister knew perfectly well what was at stake if one of them didn’t find a quality mate soon, she kept acting like Janelle was an idiot for caring about their father and the century-old title they’d be throwing to the wind if one of them didn’t marry “well.”

The whole situation suddenly made Janelle very, very tired. “I don’t want to fight with you, so I’m going to get off the phone now,” she said.

“Oh, come on, Janelle! I’m just teasing you. If you want to talk about this seriously, I can do that.”

“Actually, I don’t think you can,” Janelle answered. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Alisha, but you seem to think this is all a joke, like none of it matters.”

“No, Janelle, that’s where you’re wrong. I make jokes, because I know none of this is any good. I had to come all the way to Canada to keep Mom and Dad from throwing me at Rafe. I hate seeing you tied up in knots over a wolf who, while a step up from Jeffrey, still isn’t treating you all that great. I joke because I’m worried about you, and I’m worried about Tu, but there’s nothing I can do to save either of you.”

Janelle could hear the sincerity in Alisha’s voice, and her irritation was replaced with the need to reassure her younger sister.

“No, I’m just being silly. I’ll go into heat. Mag and I will get married, have a pup, and everything will be fine.”

“Ah… well, contrary to what those romance novels you used to like so much would have you believe, historically speaking, adding a baby to an already rife marital situation never helps. In fact, in real life it almost always makes it worse, whether you’re talking about Mary, Queen of Scots or Cleopatra—neither of whom came out winners in their stories.” Alisha then abruptly dropped her professor voice. “The main point is, if you think this guy is crazy or cheating on you with somebody else, then you need to find away to get out of this pledge fast, because going into heat with him will only make things worse.”

She was right. Mag didn’t love her anymore. He could barely stand to be in the same room with her. And from what she could tell, he’d been talking to this Sophia person nearly every night. Every sign pointed to heartache and pain if she didn’t end this, but… “You know I can’t. You know I can’t do that to Dad or to our state pack.”