Taken by the Wolf King (Gladiator) (2 page)

Leif hated formal parties. His kind enjoyed boisterous events where there was more drinking and carousing than polite social conversation. As far as he was concerned it was more important to sneak a lusty kiss behind a potted plant than to form political bonds. But this was a different culture, one brimming with political undertones where one wrong word or deed could mean the difference in gaining an ally or an enemy. Still, Leif had to smile. His Social Mistress would love this. Kari adored parties of any kind and oft complained that formal affairs of state should happen more often than the coronation of a king or birth of an heir.

Thankfully, Kari had anticipated such an event and insisted Leif pack his ceremonial peace robes. Fortunately, other than the long scarlet robe at his back, his outfit wasn’t unlike the tuxedos worn by his human hosts. Black pants and jacket worn with a black shirt instead of a white one—along with the cape—set him apart as “other” but didn’t cause people to openly stare at him until they realized he was the infamous wolf king from the shifter world. His acute hearing
served him well
in this place as most didn’t take into account he could overhear their murmured conversations. The gala was held outside in the open air, allowing scents to travel to Leif, giving him a distinct advantage over everyone else. Hopefully, that was something these people would never figure out.

“Your business here must be important for you to arrive unannounced.” The wife of the human Grand Chancellor didn’t hide her disdain of Leif and his kind well. Chin raised, the female—Larissa—gave him a look that said she didn’t care if she was breaking etiquette. She didn’t like Leif in the least.

“I would have made my intentions known had there been a way to open peaceful negotiations without coming to your realm. Unfortunately, there has yet to be any form of communication between our two species reliable enough to request an invitation to your world.” Leif ignored her tone, preferring instead to scan his surroundings while making small talk. “My apologies if I inadvertently upset the normal balance of things. I only wish to open negotiations with you on behalf of the people of Denwulf.”

“I think what my wife meant”—Grand Chancellor James Nathan cleared his throat, giving the woman a glance as he laid a hand on her arm to silence her—“is that we’d have prepared better for your arrival had we known in advance you were coming to speak with us.” He smiled at Leif. “No worries, though. I believe I’ve managed to get most of the important chancellors from nearby provinces here to open negotiations with you.”

“And for that, I’m exceedingly grateful,” Leif replied with a slight bow. “I would not be here intruding on your territory were the matter not of the utmost importance to my people.”

“Up to now you’ve been reserved about your reasons for this meeting. The council will want to know the agenda in the days to come.”

“Understandable.” Though Leif wasn’t ready to divulge his reasons yet. The chancellor seemed open to reason, but Leif was still disquieted. Perhaps it was the open hostility of the man’s mate, or perhaps there was the same negative energy coming from Chancellor Nathan. If so, the man hid it well. Whatever it was, Leif was uneasy. Showing his hand now might not be wise. “If you like, I can hold a meeting outlining my intentions. That may give everyone time to prepare.”

And to get them used to seeing Leif as a leader and equal instead of an alien, or worse—an animal. That was what Leif knew he had to concentrate on in the next few days. If he could get those people to drop their guard, to see him as similar to them, he might have a chance of avoiding war.

“I believe that would ease the minds of everyone,” Chancellor Nathan agreed, nodding as if he not only approved but understood completely. “There are some who fear you’ve come here to enslave us all.” The man met Leif’s eyes defiantly, as if he dared Leif to actually try.

“My people have no desire for any such thing.” Not entirely a lie. Leif was certain there was someone somewhere in his kingdom who didn’t want exactly that, if only to teach them a lesson. “We only wish a truce. Peace.”

Nathan raised an eyebrow. “Are we at war then?”

Leif had to stifle the urge to grind his teeth. Truly, the man seemed to hear what he wanted to hear, not what Leif actually said. Schooling his features took effort, but he thought he managed it. Just. “Not that I’m aware of.” If they were, the human wouldn’t need to ask. “I’d like to keep it that way.”

“That sounds like a threat to me,” Larissa said, raising her chin in challenge. “Have you come here only to bring violence to our very doorstep?”

Chancellor Nathan snagged his wife by the upper arm, dragging her away from Leif. He spoke several harsh words before rubbing her arms in a soothing gesture. The woman nodded before casting Leif one last scathing look as she turned to leave.

“You’ll have to excuse my wife. She’s not had very good experiences with those of your kind.” The chancellor seemed genuinely apologetic, but Leif could swear he sensed the slightest amount of discord in the other man’s words. Being king had never been an easy job, but it seemed like these humans played court politics to the max. This might not be a monarchy per se, but intrigues were rampant. If he wasn’t careful, Leif knew he could find himself in a worse mess than he was in now.

“I understand completely—”

“Do you really?” The other man’s eyes seemed to gleam with some emotion Leif couldn’t identify but recognized as negative. So, Lady Larissa wasn’t the only one with issues with shifters.

“I could play coy with you, Chancellor, but that would serve no purpose other than to delay a peaceful solution to a problem faced by both our peoples. My second in command, the Guardian of our people, was held for several years on your world. My understanding—and please note, Guardian Brandwulfr will only speak of certain aspects of his captivity—is that he was made to fight to the death. He’s told me other shifters were made to fight each other, something our kind simply does not do. Those who refused were punished, himself included.”

“And did your
Guardian
use that excuse to justify killing his own kind?”

Leif did his best to keep from clenching his fists. Now was not the time to lose his temper. “No. He is the Guardian. It is more than a title—it’s a designation. For him to slay any wolf who had not broken our laws would go against his very being. Brandwulfr’s line was bred to protect, as mine was bred to rule.”

“So, he alone resisted.” The chancellor was openly scoffing now, not bothering to hide his feelings.

“To kill his own kind would be like killing a child of his heart. No matter if the wolf was a man—or woman—he despised, Brandwulfr would give his life in protection unless that wolf had broken our laws.”

“And who gets to decide if someone is guilty?
Your
Brandwulfr? That would leave him blameless indeed.”

“The Guardian is but the instrument of justice. Each wolf is judged by his peers, the facts presented impartially and judged thusly as well. It’s not unlike your own system of justice, or so I’ve read.”

“I suppose your Guardian was himself brutalized by us. Raped. Made to do… unnatural things.”

Leif kept his expression carefully neutral. “Guardian Brandwulfr would not speak of such things to me. Only his mate would know if that were true. I refuse to speculate on things not said.” There was truly a gap to be bridged between his people and the humans. Leif wasn’t altogether certain it was possible.

Seeming to shake himself, Chancellor Nathan smiled. “Whatever the case may be, it seems we’ve both things to overcome. Perhaps the festivities, as well as the anticipated talks, will ease some of the tension.”

The hackles on Leif’s back stirred. The threat wasn’t imminent, but certainly there. Letting his guard down would be a mistake in this place. “I certainly hope you’re right, Chancellor,” he replied with a slight bow.

As he straightened, Leif caught a scent on the breeze. The smell was so tantalizing
he
almost lifted his nose to openly sniff the air for another whiff. Only the need to blend stayed him. Tantalizing hints of the underlying fragrance seemed to taunt him as he tried to continue the conversation with the chancellor.

“Perhaps we should break for a time,” he finally said, knowing there was no way he’d be able to concentrate until he found the source of that smell. “Enjoy the evening your wife so thoughtfully planned and prepared with such skill.”

The chancellor looked surprised by the compliment. “So you like our little party?”

“It’s not something I enjoy often,” Leif said with a smile. As truthful as he could be.

“Well then.” Chancellor Nathan rubbed his hands together. “Enjoy yourself. Eat. Drink. Be merry.”

My ass,
Leif thought. But he would find that scent. It was a woman, he had no doubt. What puzzled him was why she was here. On this plane.

His kind didn’t believe in a fated mate so much as that there was one person in their lifetime who would call to them. One person who could make them happiest. There was nothing to say they couldn’t find happiness elsewhere, but it was said they would
know
that one person above all others when they met. Somehow, Leif was scenting the woman who would be his mate. If he chose to keep her.

Walking through the crowd, Leif nodded politely to anyone who acknowledged him. In this world, women openly appraised him in such a manner that he felt uncomfortable. Being king, it wasn’t attention he was unused to, but these women were different. They looked at him not as a woman assessing a man she might want to bed, but as one might a piece of meat. They wanted him, to be sure, but he felt like he imagined one might feel if he were being sold to the highest bidder.

As if she knew he was looking for her, musical laughter seemed to beckon him like a lighthouse might a ship. A piercing note seemed to echo in the dark. Hauntingly beautiful. It took all Leif’s willpower not to raise his face to the sky and openly sniff the air. Still he slowly surveyed his surroundings, this time looking for prey. Using every enhanced sense he possessed, the wolf king searched for the woman who could possibly be his mate. Despite the fact she smelled human. Hadn’t Brandwulfr’s mate been of this realm? And the daughter of his tormenter, at that.

Using all the enhanced senses and skill his kind possessed, Leif focused on that scent and sound, determined to find the woman he knew would be his. Everything dimmed around him, as if he were viewing his surroundings in a tunnel with only the light of his target ahead to guide him. Sounds around him became muffled, all but the musical note of the woman’s laughter. It was a trick most wouldn’t use unless heavily guarded and backed up with trusted allies, since it made one vulnerable to hidden threats, but Leif was willing to do anything to find this woman.

Just as he was about to abandon the attempt before anyone noticed anything amiss, he spotted her. Across the glade, beneath a white-blooming tree, she stood with her profile to him. A man dressed in formal finery flirted openly with her, and really who could blame him? The female was…
exquisite
. Clad in the same kind of nondescript dress of the palest blue worn by other servants at the party, she seemed unaware of the stir she caused. She held a tray laden with finger foods firmly between herself and the man almost like a last line of defense. Men from all around seemed to follow her with their gazes yet kept their distance. It was as if they all understood she was to be admired from afar but wouldn’t take the next step and approach her. Because she was a servant? Well, all but the flirty man about to have his throat torn out. Leif had never had such a flood a jealousy overwhelm him before, especially not over a woman. The emotion was as unwelcome as it was uncomfortable.

Deep onyx skin seemed to glimmer in the moonlight, making her look like a fine sheen of perspiration covered her. Like she might appear after a bout of unabashed sex. The blue of her gown only enhanced the slight bluish hue of all that dark, dark skin and hair. She truly was ethereal, like some pagan goddess wrapped in silk and wispy veils. Her dress, though modest and uniform with all the other servants, gave him the merest peek of dark, shapely legs beneath all those gauzy skirts and molded her luscious breasts with silk, giving the briefest glimpse of dark cleavage. Bare arms were lightly muscled, as if she weren’t the delicate beauty she appeared to be. No. This was a woman used to pulling her own weight. Any male would be proud to call her his.