Claimed by the Pack_A Wolf-Shifter Menage Romance Page 4

  “Alright, that’s it,” I announced loudly. “Fuck this whole weird scene. I’ve had enough.”

  I stormed back into Damien’s room and pulled my clothes on in a flash. I could hear them talking again, but this time lowering their voices. Probably so I wouldn’t hear.

  By the time I re-entered the living room, the two of them seemed a lot more calm. Damien had found a shirt somewhere. It was a shame covering him up though.

  “Good luck with all of this,” I said, jerking my thumb back and forth between them. “I’m thinking you guys are going to need it.”

  No one said a word as I headed for the exit. The two of them actually had their heads hung low. I closed my hand over the doorknob and then I heard it.

  “Serena, wait.”

  Broderick’s voice. Suddenly he sounded very rational. My hand stopped mid-turn.

  I hadn’t told him my name.

  “Don’t go.”

  It was his sense of sudden calm that turned me around. I looked back at him.

  “We have something to tell you,” the tall blonde went on. “The both of us.”

  They were different now. The anger had gone out of them, but there was something else. A sense of resignation maybe. And more.

  Damien caught my gaze and held me with his eyes. He crossed his well-muscled forearms across his chest and smiled.

  “You need to know who we are…”

  7

  BRODERICK

  The girl standing in my kitchen was beautiful, and not just in the physical sense. She was attractive, yes. Petite and curvy and cute. But it was her brazenness I loved the most. Her sense of uncaring, of going immediately on the attack rather than cowering on the defense.

  That, plus I loved her pretty, petulant mouth.

  Even as she stood there, dripping defiantly with the last of my milk, I couldn’t be angry. Not at her — I had feelings for her. Feelings that shocked and surprised me. Familiar feelings of closeness and longing and kinship that I hadn’t felt in ages; feelings that thrilled and excited me in all the ways I’d forgotten.

  But also feelings of dread. Of false hope. Of the potential for suffering, not just for her, but for the both of us too.

  No, I couldn’t be angry at her for that. Not even a little.

  But I could certainly be mad at Damien.

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done here?” I asked him sternly.

  He did what he always did — he shrugged me off. It was classic Damien, really: jump now, think later. Deal with the consequences another time. Or if he could pass those consequences onto someone else? Never, as the case may be.

  The girl was in the other room now, changing. If I looked through the doorway I might even watch her. A part of me wanted to, very badly. To see her body. Her nakedness…

  “You do know what this means, right?”

  “Broderick stop,” my roommate replied with a dismissive wave. “You don’t know that.”

  “Oh no? You don’t think so?” I was even angrier now. He wasn’t just exhibiting carelessness, now it was disrespect. “Don’t forget which one of us has seen this before. I’ve been through this, Damien. All of it. Remember, I was made years before you were.”

  We stopped immediately as the girl — Serena, her name was — returned. She stomped right through the kitchen and toward the door, as I knew she might.

  I couldn’t let her leave though. I called out her name.

  “Don’t go,” I pleaded. “We have something to tell you.”

  She didn’t care. Couldn’t care, really. Not that I could blame her. I’d been an asshole, and an obnoxious asshole at that. My quick temper was one of the worst of my many faults.

  “You need to know who we are…”

  Her hand stopped turning the door knob, and I took a breath. I had to be careful here, but I also had to be thorough. No matter how carefully we approached it, the concept was always hard to accept. I thought it might be different for her though. For one of her Order.

  “To be honest,” said Damien, “it’s more about what we are.”

  I shot him a staying glance. The word ‘what’ threw her again.

  “Look, I need to get going. I’ve really got to—”

  “—call Xiomara Magoro?” I finished for her.

  Her hand dropped from the knob. It was obvious we now had her full attention.

  “And… you know Xiomara?” she asked carefully.

  “Not personally,” I replied. “But he does.”

  She looked at Damien, who nodded. Even then she wasn’t sure.

  “Describe her.”

  Damien leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. I hated that he was actually enjoying this.

  “Four foot nothing, African woman?” he said offhandedly. “Colorful robes? Real bad attitude?”

  I watched as Serena tried keeping her face expressionless. It wasn’t working.

  “Curses like an angry sailor?” Damien continued. “Scary as all hell? Wouldn’t want to mess with her… that Xiomara Magoro?”

  “Alright, alright. I get it.”

  Serena crossed her own arms and bit her lip. It only made her look sexier. I felt the swell of heat again, more powerful this time, rising up inside me. A distinct tingle I hadn’t felt since…

  “So you’re my contacts,” she stated.

  Damien nodded and bowed theatrically. She swatted him in the arm.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  “Because it wasn’t our decision,” I told her. “We weren’t ready. And besides…” I stared accusingly at Damien here. “Your boss hadn’t given us the green light yet.”

  “I don’t have a boss.” Serena said quickly. Her body language spoke volumes.

  “That’s funny. I was under the impression there was a distinct hierarchy in the Order.”

  The girl who just drank my milk pouted. She said nothing.

  “And as we understand it, Xiomara Magoro is the Head of your Order, no?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “So we were following instructions,” I cut her off. “At least until you were attacked. At which point Damien here broke protocol in revealing himself. Which as much as I hate to admit it, is exactly what I would’ve done.”

  Damien looked especially pleased by the statement. I wanted to kick him.

  In the meantime Serena was looking me up and down, as if seeing me for the first time. But somehow I got the strange feeling she was seeing something familiar, too.

  “So which one of you is with the Order?”

  “Neither one of us, I’m afraid.”

  She looked perplexed, and I knew why. The Hallowed Order had always been shrouded in myth and secrecy. The organization had survived for more than six centuries by never mentioning itself outside of its own inner circle. Except in very rare instances, such as this one.

  “I don’t get it,” she said. “I’ve been sitting in that hotel for days with both thumbs up my ass. Waiting for you to show up. Waiting for anyone to tell me what to do.”

  “We weren’t ready,” I said.

  “And you’re ready now?”

  “Actually no. You’re early. We’re not prepared.”

  She sighed and rubbed at her temples. I imagined whatever she and Damien were doing together had tired her out. Actually, I didn’t have to imagine. I already knew.

  “So who were those guys who jumped me?” she asked. “You said their names. Like you knew them.”

  “One of them was Boone Hammond.”

  “The one you threw across the alley,” said Damien pointedly. Serena’s gaze shifted downward as he made the statement. I cast him a questioning glance and he mouthed the word ‘later’.

  “The other was a man named Christophe Dupont. A real asshole. He’s their leader. Sort of.”

  Sort of…

  Images of Karessa floated to mind, emerald green eyes lost in a sea of flowing coppery hair. I fought back memories of being lost for hours in that hair. Of holding her in my arms.
Of pressing myself warmly against that smooth porcelain skin…

  Karessa, the actual leader.

  Our actual leader.

  No, a voice in my head said sternly. Not anymore…

  “There was a third guy too,” Serena was saying. “A real big one. I lost him quickly though, when they all started chasing me.”

  “That would be Lionel,” laughed Damien. “No big feat outrunning Lionel.”

  Serena wasn’t in the mood to laugh. Neither was I. What Damien had done was beyond foolish. It was sheer recklessness. Selfishness too, although she couldn’t know why.

  I looked her over again, and our eyes met. They were a beautiful green, flecked with brown.

  Almost like Karessa’s.

  “So I’ll ask again,” she practically spat, “since none of you want to answer the real question.” The girl standing in our kitchen let out a long, heated breath. “Who were those men, and what did they want with me?”

  Damien and I looked at each other. There was no going back.

  “They want you because they know why you’re here,” I replied. “They know exactly what you’re after.”

  Serena shifted uncomfortably. Almost like we knew more about her mission than she did.

  “And they’re not men,” I added. “They’re wolves.”

  8

  BRODERICK

  It was like stepping off a cliff.

  I watched Serena’s reaction go through the full gamut of emotions. First confusion, like she hadn’t heard me correctly, then disdain, as she inwardly declared me crazy. The laughter came last. Some of it was meant to mock me, but it was mostly a defense mechanism against us mocking her.

  “Wolves,” she spat, as if the word tasted terrible. “Yeah. Riiight.”

  “I’m being serious,” I told her.

  She looked to Damien for help. The asshole actually pointed at his ear and made slow circles, raising his eyebrows and making the ‘he’s crazy’ face. My hands balled into fists. I was ready to jump him, right then and there.

  “Damien, what the actual fuck—”

  “Okay,” he said, putting his hands up. “Okay, alright.” He stopped grinning. For once in his life he actually looked serious.

  “Broderick’s telling it straight. They are wolves,” he said simply. Then, after a moment: “And we’re wolves too.”

  The words hung out there heavily in the silence of our little kitchen. We waited for her to process them before going on.

  “Wolves…” she said again, this time a little differently. “Like in a gang? Is that the name of your—”

  “No,” I said, stopping her. “Actual wolves. Damien and I are… I mean, we were part of a pack. A pack that included Boone and Christophe and Lionel.”

  And Karessa…

  Serena was wholly confused. We were obviously sent there for her, but now we were acting crazy. Even so, there was no clearer way to put it. We didn’t need her to digest it right now, but she did have to swallow it.

  “Wolves,” she said again.

  “That’s how they found you,” I went on. “They sniffed you out. Followed your scent.”

  She actually put her head in her hands.

  “It’s how Damien found you too. When you left your hotel.”

  “Sniffed me out,” she sighed. “Of course. That explains everything. I mean shit, now it all makes perfect sense.”

  Ah, the asshole phase. She was being an asshole now.

  “Don’t be an asshole,” I told her.

  “No no, I get it now,” she said mockingly. “Wolves. Totally.”

  Damien stepped forward and held his hands out apologetically. “Listen… we don’t expect you to believe everything right now but—”

  “WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?”

  We were losing her again. I decided on a different approach.

  “Are you hot right now?”

  Serena blinked. She stared back at me like I had three heads.

  “I said, are you hot right now?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “Of course I’m hot. It’s a million fucking degrees in here.”

  “No it’s not,” I replied. “Check the thermostat if you want to. You’re hot for a very specific reason. And you’re tingly too. All over your skin.”

  I could tell by her reaction that I’d hit a nail on the head. Her eyes flashed dangerously. She took two steps away from us.

  “You drugged me?”

  Shit. It wasn’t supposed to go this way either.

  “No, not at all.”

  “You DRUGGED me?”

  “Serena STOP!” My voice was louder than I’d intended, but maybe that was a good thing. I must’ve startled her because she actually stopped.

  “Look at me for moment,” I said, as calmly as possible. “Do you feel something for me? Anything at all?”

  I could tell she wanted to snarl at me again. She didn’t. Something stopped her.

  “A connection maybe?” I continued. “A strange… familiarity?”

  I could see her wanting to deny it. She couldn’t though. She was experiencing all the same things I was.

  “An intimacy that can’t be explained?”

  “It’s nothing,” she said. “And… I actually can explain it.”

  “It’s not nothing, Serena.”

  “No,” she countered. “It is nothing. You just… well, you look like someone I know.” She paused awkwardly before continuing. “Or rather, someone I used to know. Someone I was very close to.”

  I sensed my first radiant emotions: Pain. Loss. Mourning. All of them, very deep. All of them at once.

  “Serena, I—”

  “You look like Alex,” she said, more to herself than to either of us. “You look like Alex, that’s all it is.”

  “But I’m not Alex,” I said gently. “And yet you have these feelings anyway. And if you look at me now — look right into my eyes — you’ll be able to understand what I mean.”

  She glanced up. Whether it was out of an actual need to do it, or she did it just to humor me, it didn’t matter. We locked eyes, and for one very long moment everything stopped.

  “You and I are connected,” I told her, “in the same way I am with Damien. We’re bonded, he and I. We have been for years.”

  She squinted back at me with unbelieving eyes. Outwardly she was still rejecting it.

  Inwardly however…

  “I can feel your pain,” I said. “Your sense of loss. Even your fear. The fear that I might be right. That something might actually be happening here that you can’t explain.”

  Her breathing grew rapid. I could sense her heart beating in her chest now, feel the heat of her blood. Everything was faster. More frenzied.

  “You should never have done this,” I said, turning to Damien. “This was wrong.”

  He looked hurt by the assertion. “I… I didn’t know.”

  “You knew. Or even if you didn’t know, you at least suspected.”

  I wasn’t wrong there and he knew it. If I had been, he would’ve argued. I loved him like a brother, but arguing with me was Damien’s thing.

  “I— It just sort of happened,” he offered.

  Serena was rubbing her temples again. Nothing she could do would clear her head though.

  “We had sex,” she said finally, looking from Damien to me. “That’s all it was. We didn’t cut our hands or become blood brothers or—”

  “You should’ve told me first,” I said to Damien. “You should’ve asked.”

  My eyes crawled her body now. I couldn’t help it. I could smell her, every last bit of her. Her scent, her sex — every pheromone and chemical change that was happening across the wonderful surface of her hot, tingly skin.

  And that body… I longed for it, badly. I wanted to hold it in my arms. To crush her against me, to spread her open and take her hard, the way I knew Damien had done himself. And I could smell him on her too. All over her. On her skin. In her hair…

  “Why does he need to ask you t
o have sex with me?” Serena cried, clearly exasperated.

  I gave Damien a long, stern look. He conceded fully this time, lowering his head.

  “Because it’s our way.”

  9

  SERENA

  I was pissed. Pissed that I’d been caught unprepared — with my pants down, so to speak — and even more pissed that I couldn’t catch on.

  Most of all I was pissed that my contacts apparently knew more about my mission than I did. That Xiomara would just throw me to the wolves like this, which in retrospect, was a funny choice of words.

  Nothing made any sense, yet somehow everything this beautiful Nordic god was telling me was exactly what I felt at the time. Almost as if he were feeding my own thoughts and emotions directly into my head. Planting them there, like some kind of hypnotist.

  And such a beautiful Nordic god, too…

  Only he wasn’t a hypnotist. That I was sure of. The strange prickly heat I was experiencing had nothing to do with what he was saying or suggesting to me, because I’d felt it even before I’d left Damian’s bed.

  But if not that, then what?

  “Well if you’re wolves,” I said, deciding to humor them, “you’re the shittiest wolves I’ve ever seen. You look a hell of a lot like people. And I’ve yet to see either one of you lick your own asshole.”

  Damien laughed. I guess he was the funny one. Broderick scowled, and his scowl told Damien that he shouldn’t be laughing… but he kept laughing anyway.

  I was starting to see their dynamic.

  “We’re humans, obviously,” said Broderick. “But there are times we assume wolf form.”

  I nodded, as if everything he said were obvious fact. “So like werewolves?”

  “No,” he countered quickly. “Not like werewolves.” The term was either offensive, or it irritated the shit out of him. I stored that information away for later. “That’s Hollywood bullshit.”

  “So then… no full moon stuff? Silver bullets? Garlic?” I was having fun now. “Wait, the garlic thing is for vampires, right? How about holy water? Is that—”