Of Gods and Wolves (42 page)

I struggled against the heavy fog of sleep weighing me down and in that half aware state, a thick arm encircled my waist. A feeling of complete satiety flowed over me, making the fog thicken. I hummed a little in appreciation of how good it felt to snuggle back into that warm body, to breathe in a fresh male scent. I'd never felt more safe, more at home, more happy.

I sighed and snuggled deeper. Hot breath tickled my neck and a hand started drifting in lazy circles over my belly. Heat rose under those careless fingertips and I went liquid with wanting. Thick muscled legs pressed tight against mine, lips opening on my neck, the tip of a tongue tasting the salt on my skin. I rolled my head on the cradle of a massive bicep and looked up into a face I recognized but somehow knew shouldn't be exactly where it was.

“What the fuck?” I jumped up and away from Odin, too shocked to even worry about my nudity.

He sat up more slowly and looked me over. There was a strange look on his face but other than that, he seemed completely at ease. He pulled a knee up and swung a hand over it as he braced himself on his other elbow.

“Sorry bout that,” he said with a little smile. “I couldn't resist. You were all warm and rubbing against me.”

“
I think I can do this on my own now,” I glared at him, “thanks for the lesson. I'll show myself out.”

“
Vervain,” he stood up and held out a hand in supplication. “It was just a little taste, I didn't mean any harm. I apologize for offending you.”

“
Fine,” I grumbled. “Let's go.” I changed back into a lioness before he could say anything else. Mainly because I was way too naked and so was he. I needed to get away from naked Odin and back to the real world of clothes and werewolf boyfriends.

I was happy with how easily the shift came to me this time but I had a feeling my supreme embarrassment had something to do with it. The lioness however, didn't know about embarrassment and frankly didn't see the problem with a few good licks between friends. I tried to tell her to take her slutty kitty ways and shove them where the sun don't shine but really, that doesn't make much sense when the creature you're telling to shove it only exists inside of you. Can you tell someone to shove it up their metaphorical ass? I decided you could.

So I once more told her to shove it as we ran away from Odin in what she was feeling was a very
come and get me, big boy
manner. For me it was the opposite of that. At least I hoped it was the opposite. Was my tail twitching too suggestively? Oh shit, was he staring at my furry ass? I picked up the speed and thankfully made it back to Valhalla in no time.

I found my discarded robe, picked it up with my teeth and ran behind a trellis of grapes to change. It was just as easy to change into a woman and I was relieved I was able to do it and get my robe on before Odin even made it out of the tree line.

He sniffed the air and then changed immediately back to himself, making it look as easy as breathing. I stepped out from behind my fruit shield warily as he was putting on his pants. He looked over at me with a sheepish grin. He hadn't got to putting on his eye patch yet and I got to see that his lid was indeed in perfect condition, just a little concave. He affixed the leather about his face and lost the smile.

“
Does it bother you?” He waved a hand at his missing eye casually but the question seemed to have some weight.

“
Not at all,” I frowned. “I was just wondering why you don't get a glass eye.”

“
I don't like the feel of them,” he said with some relief. “Besides, I think I kind of look like a pirate with the patch.”

“
You
are
a pirate,” I laughed. “You're a Viking, one of the original pirates.”

“
Ah yes,” he grinned. “I never took part in raiding but my people did enjoy it a bit.”

“
A bit?” I laughed. “Thank you, Mr. Understatement for reducing the years of plundering, raping, and pillaging your people made a living by, to four letters.”

“
Well, at least it wasn't a four letter word.”

“
A four letter word would probably be more apt,” I grimaced at him.

“
Yes, yes,” he chuckled and indicated with a wave that I should precede him into the hall. “They were a feisty lot but they were also excellent traders. Would you like some refreshment before you leave?”

“
No,” I sobered. “I think I should be going.

“
I assure you, the food was all procured in a non-violent manner,” he tried a little boy grin on me.

“
I'm sure it was,” I stopped my mad dash for the tracing room and turned back to him. “I appreciate the lesson, Odin. You've been a big help and I owe you one.”

“
The Godhunter owes me one,” he grinned wider and raised a brow.

“
Within reason,” I narrowed my eyes on him.

“
Rest assured,” he had a horrible twinkle in his eye, “I shall endeavor to find a reason soon.”

“How was the training?” Trevor's voice made me jump guiltily.

“
Fine,” I was grateful it was so dark in our bedroom. I was sure I was flushed.

“
Good,” he rolled over and went back to sleep.

I huffed happily. Now that I was home, the incident with Odin was fading fast. I hadn't done anything wrong after all. I'd just woken up a little confused. I was blaming Odin entirely. He had even apologized and I had kind of accepted. So why did I have this weird feeling like I'd wanted it?

Probably cause I did.

But that didn't matter. Wanting and doing were two different things. I was not an animal, I only turned into one occasionally. I wasn't a slave to my baser instincts. In fact, there were a lot of men I was attracted to who I wouldn't be having sex with. It's called being in a relationship. I was a grownup, I was in a grownup relationship. I'd chosen to be faithful and I would. There was no doubt in my mind over that. I loved Trevor, completely, devotedly, and he loved me.

So what if I'd now have fantasies about my ex-boyfriend's father? Eww, that sounded awful. I have to be honest with myself though. White trash or not, I knew I'd have a naughty little spot in my mind reserved for Odin now. I know it was just one little kiss on the neck but the neck was my yum spot and Odin worked it well. Sigh.

I climbed into bed with my wolf and knew Kirill was sleeping down the hall in my art room. It made me happy that I was able to give him a place that made him happy. Calm spread over me as Trevor wrapped me in tight against his side and I let everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours slip away. My fantasies instantly focused on him.

And they were good.

So life went pretty much back to normal, as normal as it can get for the Godhunter/Rouva/Tima. Balancing my life as Rouva to the Froekn and Tima to the Intare began to be second nature although I secretly longed for the day Fenrir found his mate and I could hand over the Rouva title to her. I barely had time to paint, what with trying to keep my boys in line and keep the wolves legally employed.

Kirill had taken up residence in my art room, so painting wasn’t the solitary release it used to be anyway but when it was all said and done, I didn’t mind. I was enjoying Kirill’s company and I think Trevor was too. He definitely appreciated the extra manpower in case of attack and I could tell he was relieved to be able to leave me with a bodyguard when I didn’t go into work with him.

I worried about Kirill though. He’s made me the center of his life and as much as I appreciated that, I wanted him to live for more than just guarding my back. Baby steps though. I guess he was making great progress for a guy who’d been chained and horribly tortured for years. Maybe someday he’d remember how to live for himself again.

The rest of the Intare were embracing their new found freedom wholeheartedly, sometimes a little too wholeheartedly. I soon discovered why they so desperately needed a Tima. It seemed like every other day I was mediating fights and counseling them. But along with all the headaches came immense rewards as well.

We were becoming a Pride. Every dispute I settled, every grief I assuaged, or problem I helped solve, bonded me closer to my lions. I began to see more than appreciation in their eyes, soon there was respect and affection. I was hoping one day there might be love there as well because I sure did love them, my wild boys, my cubs.

Trevor has become more and more supportive of my cats. The more time he spends with them and realizes they’re not out to steal his girlfriend, the more relaxed he becomes around them and the more he enjoys their company. I think Kirill has been the most helpful in that regard.

There have been a couple of little scraps between the wolves and the lions, about women of course, but we’ve stumbled through them mostly unscathed and I thank Fenrir for that as much as my fast talking. Anything I can't handle with words, he can handle with fists.

I haven't spoken to Odin since our episode in the woods. It's all so messed up, waking up naked with my ex-boyfriend's father and then snuggling with him as if I was supposed to be there. I know it's not my fault, that it was just a brief moment of half-awake pleasure which Odin took advantage of, but whenever my mind wanders back to the forest of Asgard, I don't feel regret. I don't feel embarrassment or anger over his behavior. All I feel is... need. A horrible, aching, need.

Odin's pull is strong but the desire I feel for Trevor isn't exactly minor and his lovemaking is never lacking. He is, and probably will always be, the most amazing lover I’ve ever known. He does get help from the bonding but I’ve never been one to complain about sexual aids. Who could possibly complain after being loved so thoroughly by Trevor? Not I.

So I try to let go of my strange need for Odin, my still bruised love for Thor, my heartache over Blue who still hasn’t forgiven me, and my hatred of Demeter who is on the loose and plotting my downfall, no doubt. It's not too difficult when I snuggle in to sleep at night with my Werewolf Prince holding me. I just wish a certain one-eyed Viking god would stay out of my dreams.

Amy Sumida lives on an island in the Pacific Ocean where gods go to play. She sleeps in a fairy bed, high in the air, with two gravity-defying felines and upon waking, enjoys stabbing people with little needles, over and over, under the guise of making pretty pictures on their skin. She is happiest with her face stuck in a book, her mind in a different world than this one, filled with fantastical men who unfortunately don't exist in the real, mundane world. Thank the gods for fantasy.