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“I won’t go into heat.”
She’s already stirred for me. I smell it. My entire house smells like her arousal, which is why I’m leaving. I don’t want to push hard with her just yet. Besides, I want her begging for my knob, and just as payback for keeping me away for spans and driving me crazy with worry that she might collapse with hunger, or worse yet, try to hurt herself. It’s why I brought the healer and wouldn’t allow Philippa to return home.
In exchange for a lengthy stay, and once Philippa caught on to the fact that I like the breeder, she asked if I could let her live in the village with her kids. I haven’t made the decision yet because having her girls here makes me uneasy. I can’t guarantee their safety with Dan’s whereabouts unknown. If I could stow Marybell somewhere where nobody could reach her until the Dan problem is solved, that would be my preference.
If I did that, she’d call me a jerk. Every time she says it, it puts a smile on my face. I take it as a term of endearment.
Spence jogs up to me.
He stops dead in his tracks, looking skeptical. “Why are you smiling?”
“I’m considering bringing Philippa’s kids here.”
Spence turns as if to run away. “Goodbye.”
I catch up to him and throw my arm over his shoulder. “What?”
“I’m scared of kids.”
I laugh. “But you’re not scared of their mother.” Spence likes Philippa. I’m unsure how she feels about him, but my brother is handsome and a good male, if a bit of a jerk at times, but maybe that runs in the family and is part of our charm.
“Mind your business,” he says, “Speaking of female business, how did it go with Marybell?”
I shoved me shaft down her throat and made her swallow me cum so she’d eat something.“Well enough.”
He pats my abdominals. “Very well, I’d say. You smell like her.” He points to my face.
Oh, that. I wipe my mouth, but the scent of orange will linger until I wash it. “That isn’t her.” I tilt my head. “She smells like an orange to you?”
“Yeah. To everyone. Why?”
“She doesn’t smell like that to me.”
Spence and I halt, an understanding passing over our faces.
“What if…?” he asks. He doesn’t have to complete the sentence. We’re brothers, and we’re close.
“It’s not possible.”
“It is possible for the McMar Alpha. Why not you?”
“Because the odds of finding a lycan mate are the same as the odds of me dying of a lightning strike.”
My father, an alpha, took many lovers. Some he bred, some not. My mother was a breeder who also loved him and gave him me, an alpha son. Everything was going fine until they were out for a run one morning and a stray female wolf appeared. A lycan recognizes his mate while in wolf form, and my father claimed the female was his.
My mother said it was a lie. Spence’s mother never showed a marking on the back of her neck. My mother said my father used the mating claim as an excuse to breed the female, and when my father left her, she cursed the Alpha of the Ott clan, knowing full well she was also cursing me.
The curse says that an Alpha of the Ott clan shall never find his mate.
I’m not afraid of curses, though I hate them along with all forms of such magic. And while I admit Spence and I should smell the same scent when we sniff her, and not smelling the same scent is an oddity, the Kilseleian female who’s in my house right now is not my mate. I’m not that lucky, and hoping that she would be mine is a dangerous feeling, especially during the times when my clan is about to enter an interclan conflict.
I’d rather just think of her as my breeder.
A pair of males on patrol rushes up to me. In wolf form, they rub their bodies against my legs, and I pat them before asking, “What is it?”
Magic flashes, and the older of the two brothers stands on two feet. “A royal carriage on a sled is making its way up here.”
“A what on what?”
