Her Viking Wolves: 50 Loving States, Michigan (5 page)

D
eath surrounds Fenrisson
, Ever the Man. The bodies of his best warriors—his kin—lie across the meadow between the village and the lake. Many of the slain are wolves he trained with under his father. All dead. Their human bodies—burnt husks, now—strewn across the field.

Pride demands he avenge the fallen. However, good sense tells him what he must do instead. He’s already called back his remaining warriors, bid them run to the mountains and leave their village to the serpent beasts.

Still, guilt shadows his every step as he silently skirts the forest line, managing to avoid detection. There are only two serpent warriors left now. After four did fall, many of them shifted into their human forms and took up arrows, which they must have planted before beginning the battle. Now with their numbers thinned, they have left only two of their rank in serpent-form to do all the fighting while the remainder shoots silver tipped arrows into the furred bodies of Fenrisson’s kith and kin.

These are clever beasts indeed. Fenrisson curses them silently as his eyes frantically search the meadow-turned-battlefield for his sister’s wolf—or even worse—her body.

Please not her body
. He sends a prayer up to the old gods and the new one his mother convinced his father to worship, praying Myrna is still among the living.

The Gotar King’s sword in his hand feels heavier than it ever has before as he scans the meadow. Aside from a handful of his wolves, he sees no sign of his sister.

The sound of running footsteps startles him and he raises his sword expecting another attack. However his eyes narrow when he spies not a warrior garbed in a leather jerkin and pants, but a naked man—one of the serpent warriors— sprinting towards him from across the field with nothing but a large quiver of arrows across his back. It is one of the archers, he soon realizes, likely responsible for helping in the slaughter of his wolves.

Fenrisson once again raises his sword, but then he sees the soldier is not headed for him at all, but toward the forest behind him. In fact, the man’s face is filled with panic as he flees…

Fenrisson’s eyes widen when he spots a smaller red wolf at the soldier’s heels, but he cannot help but smile. It is Myrna! Instead of continuing to fight once the arrows started flying, she chose to look for the source. And apparently, she found it.

Myrna leaps at the naked archer’s back and takes him down before he can find hidden refuge among the trees. And though he and Myrna share no special bond as he and Olafr do, Fenrisson does still feel her triumphant satisfaction as if it is his own when the serpent-turned-man falls. He watches with his own teeth bared as Myrna ends the archer’s life in a fierce cacophony of furious growling and ripping.

For a brief moment, hope surges within his chest. Perhaps he sent Olafr away too hastily.

But his hope instantly drops like a stone when he looks in the direction from whence Myrna and the archer came. There are five more naked archers sprinting towards them, and one has an arrow notched and aimed at his sister.

“Myrna!” he yells.

But it is too late. Her wolf lets out a sharp yelp as the silver-tipped arrow grazes hard over her back, only just missing her head before lodging with an audible thunk in the semi-frozen ground below.

Fenrisson has no time to feel relief. He can smell the scent of his sister’s burnt flesh, and he knows her pain is great when she lets out cry and shifts before his eyes, her human mouth rimmed with the enemy’s blood.

“Myrna!”

“FJ?” Her voice is hoarse with pain.

Fenrisson peers beyond his sister to track the archers only to find one of the beasts upon the field is no longer fighting. Not simply because the wolves have withdrawn, but also because he now seems more interested in Myrna and Fenrisson than spraying more flame upon the fleeing Vikings.

The serpent’s size is great and he is dark blue with golden eyes, much like the one Fenrisson did slay. A father or a brother perhaps?

Fenrisson does not realize the accuracy of his guess until the beast is fully turned around and headed toward he and his sister along with the archers. But at a much faster killing speed.

He picks his sister up, cradling her in his arms. And then he runs for cover into the nearby trees. It seems a cowardly act for sure. Especially for Fenrisson, who like most Vikings, wished to die either of old age or in battle.

But he must run now. In order to keep his vow to his brother, he must survive. And as little as he has ever wanted a mate, much less a fated one, he knows now he must locate the she-wolf with whom he’ll spend the rest of his life.

For he can see clearly that his Aunt Bera was correct. The future of his North Wolves depends upon it.

“
G
ood
, you’re finally here. We need to talk, Tee.”

I just about jump out of my skin when I walk into the darkened kitchen in the wee hours of New Year’s morning to find Janelle and Alisha waiting for me at the table. And I do mean that literally. I barely stop myself from shifting when Alisha unexpectedly calls to me.

“What in the hell!?” I whisper-shout at them, clutching my chest. “I nearly went wolf!”

“Oh I am sorry, Tee,” Janelle says, her voice sincere with apology. She reaches over to the nearby wall and flips on a few more overhead lights.

I nod, waiting for my pulse to slow down to a comfortable trot.

“Okay, but why are you two sitting here in the dark? And wait, how did you even know I’d be down here tonight, anyway?”

Alisha waves my questions away with a quick swish of her hand. “Look, Tee. This is the only time Janelle and I can really talk to you without worrying about Mama eavesdropping. And we figured you’d eventually come down to steal more of Daddy’s junk food stash.”

Caught red handed.

Not that I didn’t love long walks down snowy, barely paved roads in order to replenish my own junk food stash. But
oh wait
, I don’t. And Wolf Lake only has one convenience store with weird, unposted hours, so you never know if the place will even be open when you trek all the way into town to re-up on your Mountain Dew and Hostess supplies. So yes, in an act of sheer desperation, I have resorted to stealing from the stash of junk food I discovered way in the back of the walk-in pantry, behind several jars of what look like some sort of pickled Inuit delicacies.

Alisha answers my guilty look with a sympathetic one of her own.

“The holidays are tough all around, Cousin. We all have to depend on Daddy’s stash for our late night snacking,” she says with a grin. “But Janelle and I guessed it would be even worse for you. Good luck trying to work on your presentation with Tu and Grady going at it in the next room!”

Another truth.

From what I could tell after living down the hall from them for over a week, Tu and Grady were definitely enjoying their married status in every way possible. In fact, every night I get to hear how into each other they are, courtesy of the desperate squeaking of their overwrought bed and the grand finale of Grady, who I’d previously thought was completely mute, yelling out like a bull who’s just found the pasture of his dreams.

“I’m a little surprised the bed in their room is still standing,” I grumble to Tu’s two older sisters. “I could have sworn I heard it screaming ‘Euthanasia!’ last night. And from the sound of things, they were just getting started tonight when I gave up and came downstairs.”

Alisha and Janelle both burst out laughing—Alisha’s bold and direct, Janelle’s soft and pretty.

“Well, the least I can do is make sure my boys’ favorite video game producer gets her late night snack,” Alisha says, placing an open package of powdered mini donuts in front of an empty chair.

“Thanks,” I say as I sit down and stuff a donut in my mouth. “I’ll make sure to send you an advanced copy of
Viking Shifters 2
when it’s ready.”

But instead of smiling at this announcement, the two sisters pin me with worried looks—Alisha’s tight lipped and focused, Janelle’s almost entirely made up of soft brown eyes.

My cousins are both tall like me, but that’s where the similarities end. Because they’re also incredibly beautiful, but in very different ways.

Janelle is like a slender ballerina with her delicate features and long straight hair. But behind all that beauty lies a sharp-minded lawyer with a big heart who’s already garnered quite a reputation in the wolf community. Not just because she’s one of only a handful of she-wolf lawyers in the country, but also because she goes balls to the wall for her clients.

Her younger sister is also tall, but not in any way delicate. Alisha has big, bodacious curves and wild curly hair. She might be an academic, but in no way would you describe her as weedy. She also has quite a reputation in royal wolf circles, but that has more to do with her five kids, all the result of two heats. She is legendary considering most wolves are lucky to have one pup. Oh, and also because she traveled back in time to Viking Age Norway when she was pissed at her husband—but trust me,
that’s a whole ‘nother story
.

And right now, Alisha and Janelle are looking at me like they’re more interested in my own story than they are in scoring free copies of
Viking Shifters 2
—even thought it really is a highly anticipated game.

“So, Tee. What’s going on with you?” Alisha demands.

“How can we help?” Janelle asks, more gently.

Uh-oh
. “Nothing. Nothing’s going on with me,” I answer, keeping my eyes on my packaged donuts. At least, it’s nothing they can help me with. They have enough to worry about, being moms and all, without adding me into the mix.

“Bullshit,” Alisha says. “We know something’s going on and you need to tell us what it is.”

“So we can help,” Janelle adds, her voice as reassuring as a fairy godmother’s.

“I don’t think you can,” I tell them truthfully.

“This is some Game of Wolves bull, isn’t it?” Alisha asks.

“Game of Wolves?”

Janelle jumps in, “That’s how Alisha refers to anything having to do with politics and marriage in our circles. Game of Wolves, you know, like
Game of Thrones
. But with wolves.”

“Because it’s all so ridiculously dramatic,” Alisha finishes. “So let me guess. You found out something bad about your fiancé and Uncle Wilton’s trying to make you marry him anyway.”

My mouth drops open. “How did you know?”

Alisha rolls her eyes, “Because Daddy tried to do the same thing with Rafe and me. It was
so
out of line.”

My heart sinks. “But you married Rafe. And you have five kids now…”

“True,” Alisha admits with a nod. “But Rafe and I, as it turns out, are fated mates, so it all worked out.”

I try to keep the skepticism off my face, but let’s just say I’m not sold on the whole concept of fated mates. Fated mates are two wolves who are presumably so meant for each other that with the right spell, they can travel across time and space via a time portal to be united. A lot of she-wolves think it’s the most romantic thing that could ever happen to you. But to me, being forced to bunk down for life with the first dude who waltzes in through a portal and claims you’re his fated mate sounds like a nightmare.

Alisha even had a friend who’d been forced back in time to the Viking Age because of a fated mate showing up out of the blue. Yeah, that pretty much ruined her whole life.

“But never mind my situation,” Alisha insists. “Janelle and I assume your situation with this fiancé of yours is different or you wouldn’t be hiding out here in the boonies with us,” Alisha says.

“I wouldn’t call this the boonies,” I say looking around. “I mean, location-wise, yes, but the accommodations are real nice. If this place was on Trip Advisor, I’d definitely give it a five-star review right about now.”

“Stop stalling and just tell us what’s going on,” Alisha says.

“So we can help,” Janelle adds once more.

I turn my gaze to the huge kitchen window with its night view of the mountain behind the sleepy kingdom town, wondering if I should go ahead and tell them everything. They are my cousins after all. But I’m not used to talking to other people, much less other she-wolves, about my feelings. Iggle and I are more instant messaging about work stuff kind of friends. But here these two fierce cousins of mine are, demanding to know what’s going on with my love life and how they can help me.

Maybe I should just spill
, I think. They might have some ideas about how I can—

A huge flash suddenly brightens the night outside the window. It comes from high on the mountain, an explosion of white light expanding and then contracting as it disappears.

“Whoa!” I say, trying to understand what just happened.

“What?” Alisha says, turning in her seat to look toward the window. “What did you see?”

“There was a big flash of light on your mountain,” I answer with a frown. “That’s not…”

I trail off, afraid to say the words. But I don’t have to say a thing.

Alisha and Janelle’s reactions are immediate. They jump out of their seats with Alisha barking orders like, “You go get Daddy and tell Mama she’ll need to watch the kids! I’ll go wake up Rafe and Mag.”

What follows is about fifteen minutes of all out chaos as the whole house wakes up, despite having only fallen asleep a couple of hours ago after the New Year’s Eve party.

But we’re definitely all awake now. Because apparently I was right. That bright light—it was the Alaska time gate going off.

Signaling the arrival of, yes, you’re reading this right: a time traveling werewolf.