That's one 'I love you' down and one to go. Henrik got what he wanted: time alone with Zoe to deepen their connection.
Walking away when Zoe wanted to take us upstairs to fuck was the hardest, and I don’t mean that as a pun, thing I’ve done to date. I cannot express in words how badly I wanted to go upstairs with Zoe and fuck her brains out. Granted, I always want to fuck her brains out. My mate is hot as fuck. I managed to keep my composure despite the feeling I was missing out on something and knew it meant they were at least kissing. I mean, it’s better than feeling the pain of being cheated, but it sucks to feel like I’m being left out. I can suck it up and handle business while they have some afternoon delight. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself as I went to Finn’s office. “Gunnar? What are you doing here?” Finn arched his brow as I let myself into his office. “I did knock.” I pointed at the door, pretty sure I knocked. “Yes, you did.” Finn nodded, still perplexed. “Everything all right?” He asked, leaning slightly as if to try and look past me. I furrowed my brow and looked ove
As enjoyable as post-orgasm cuddling with Henrik is, I knew it couldn’t last forever. Beyond the fact that it’s too early to stay in bed, Henrik isn’t my only mate. I can’t be neglectful of Gunnar. I didn’t want to disturb Henrik, so I tried to extract myself from his arms carefully. That didn’t work the way I’d planned. “Where do you think you’re going?”Henrik asked as his arm tightened around me, pressing me closer to his naked body. I managed to stifle a moan as his cock pressed against my ass. All this skin-to-skin contact was dizzying. Is this where the phrase love drunk comes from? As a werewolf, I’ve never really been drunk; it would take way too much alcohol ingested in a short time to get drunk, so I don’t have a comparison. However, I feel that the mate bond, especially the physical contact, has that same effect. Releasing those endorphins. ‘Didn’t you just say you wouldn’t neglect Gunnar?’ Viatrix reminded me. “I’m going to go find Gunnar. Besides, we can’t just stay in
Sparring with Finn was at least doing its job of distracting me from what I was missing out on back at the house. And like every time we brothers sparred at the training facility, we drew a crowd. Of course, the crowd would have been generally bigger if Finn had been involved because everyone wanted to watch their alpha sparring. Sparring was the great equalizer for us brothers. Our combat training was the only area in which our dad didn’t play favorites. He expected Henrik and me to be among the strongest of Ironfur’s warriors. And he expected Finn to be able to beat us in a fight, and if he couldn’t, Finn had to train harder to prove he couldn’t be so easily defeated by his little brothers or someday usurped if Henrik or I wanted to challenge for the title. Yeah, I know, that last part is totally fucked. You’d question why our dad would even think Henrik or I would want to overthrow the line of succession. It’s not generally done, but according to Finn, it happened in other packs a
Viatrix stopped when Castor did. Thankfully, she had the sense to grab our clothes before we left. Viatrix sat and looked up into the tree at the ivy and moss-covered structure. It was a decent size for a treehouse but looked old and possibly unsafe. Viatrix cocked her head as Caster shifted back to Gunnar, watching him stride confidently while naked to pull a rope. The ladder that descended at least looked in better condition than the structure. It didn’t make me feel any safer about going inside. This place was somewhere important to Gunnar. I’ll give it and him the benefit of the doubt. Viatrix took a back seat as I shifted. Somewhere no female has gone before? Well, he’s not making a sexual innuendo. Gunnar was no virgin when we met. Knowing that he hadn’t brought any other females out here did make me feel special, even if I was concerned by the structural integrity of the treehouse. “We should probably put our clothes back on,” I said, tossing his clothes at him. “Why?” He as
The last four days had been a bit of a blur as we waited for Ashley and Livia to get through their heats and for the jet the Sicilian packs were going to send for prisoners… persons of interest fuck if I know what to call it… transport. Zoe, Gunnar, and I have fallen into something of a routine. Luna Katrina emailed Gunnar and me an EIGHT-HUNDRED-page document covering our Beta responsibilities and the Nebrodi traditions for our Beta ceremony. So, our routine has been to spend our days studying. Zoe is a fast reader and has memorized her beta binder, which is great for her. She’s also been doing Nebrodi Beta for years. Gunnar and me, not so much. We are both slow readers. All our teachers from school will testify we were easily distracted and struggled to sit still. We were also C+ students at best. So, reading, let alone retaining all of this, is slow going. We’ve focused mostly on the traditions and the ceremony since we don’t want to fuck that up. When we aren’t studying, we alte
Papa and I weren’t surprised that Ivan didn’t say much. Ivan Furlan is the epitome of a man of few words. Regina swears he’s more talkative with her, and I believe her. She’s his mate. Of course, he’s going to communicate with her. It’s the rest of the world he doesn’t communicate with beyond what he deems necessary. I know his silence left my mates confused and a bit miffed. I hoped he’d be slightly more talkative when introduced to the Ironfur ranked wolves. He will be Crista’s and Gwen’s or Christina’s mate’s Beta until his child is old enough. A Beta cannot be the quietest person in the room. A Beta needs to engage with people and be vocal in supporting the Alpha couple. Perhaps Tie was more devious and thorough in his recommendation of sending Ivan than I gave credit. I’d assumed he suggested Ivan knowing his presence would scare the shit, literally, out of Primo as a Madonie packmember. Now, I’m starting to see deeper reasoning. Ivan isn’t officially a beta, but this assignment
Getting Ivan to talk was like trying to crush coal into a diamond. Coal will become a diamond with enough pressure, but you can’t get that kind of pressure with your hand. And while I was glad the guy had accepted help from Henrik and me, he’s not making this easy. We’ve been talking at him. Yes, I said at him. I couldn’t say with him because that would imply that we had been having a conversation for like an hour. “Okay, big guy. Let’s see what you’ve picked up.” I sighed, rubbing my forehead. “How many older sisters do we have?” I started with an easy one. “Five.” It was the right answer but the fact he didn’t elaborate and just said the one fucking word was grinding my gears. “Right. So, tell us our sisters’ names, mates, packs, and ranks. It’s not a guarantee they’ll all be brought up during dinner conversation, but you never know when one of them might pop up in conversation.” Henrik encouraged. “Is this necessary?” Ivan asked. “Look, dude, we get it. You’re not a big talker.
The idea that Alfred missed Gunnar and Henrik’s birth wasn’t all that shocking. I had a low opinion of the guy anyway. Not that I can be mad about his reason. He had gone to comfort his eldest after she suffered one of the most tragic things next to losing a mate a female could experience. So, I couldn’t fault him for being there instead of here. Also, in Anna’s words, my mates were born earlier than expected. Given their adult sizes, I can only imagine how big they were as infants. A womb expands, but there are still limits to what the female anatomy can handle. What I found difficult to picture, given what my mates have told me about Alfred, is Alfred putting in so much time with Gunnar and Henrik. It’s difficult to accept that image alongside the image of the man who used corporal punishment on a young Henrik simply for being terrified after their plane malfunctioned during a transatlantic flight. The subject was unsettling for Gunnar and Henrik. I was about to change the subject