Whitney

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  About Celia Kyle

  Copyright Page

  SHP

  Chapter One

  Whitney reminded herself that she was not a violent person. She had to recall she was sweetness and light and everything bright. Hell, she helped old ladies cross the road, went to church on Sundays, and donated to charity every Christmas and Easter. She was a good person, damn it.

  She definitely wasn’t the type of woman who dreamt of stabbing the Gathering organizer in the eye with a pen. Pens he, of course, ordered for the attendees to use as desired. Then again, maybe she did dream of that since she couldn’t wait to see one protruding from the werewolf’s eye socket. That’s what she desired. She snatched one from the table and gripped the thin piece of plastic. Nothing like being prepared.

  The Ruling Wardens, the werewolves who also wielded the magic of the wolves and upheld the laws for all of North America, were avoiding her and she was about done. She’d been at the Gathering since Friday afternoon and it was now late Sunday morning. The men weren’t anywhere in sight. She wasn’t normally this bitchy, but enough was enough. A gal could only enjoy the spa at the werewolf run hotel so much before she was ready to pull her perfectly styled hair out.

  “So, tell me again when I’ll get to see the Wardens?” Whitney managed to shove the words past her gritted teeth. It was the wolves’ fault. Ever since she’d arrived at the Gathering, her timid, sweet exterior had transformed into raging “kill people” mode.

  The man trembled and she didn’t kid herself it was due to her. Nope, the Ruling Wardens were scary guys. Well, as far as the wolves were concerned. The Ruling Alphas held their position through dominance and brute force, things other wolves understood. Even their beasts recognized the situation with ease. It was instinctual, animalistic, feral. That said, the Ruling Wardens kept their position through magic alone. The two of them had so much power there wasn’t another in the world who’d would ever think of challenging them. For the Ruling Wardens, death could come with a thought.

  “W-W-Well, the Ruling Wardens are meeting with the wolves with legitimate concerns and they said—”

  “Legitimate…” She took a deep, calming breath and stared at the far wall.

  The hallway echoed with people—wolves and humans alike—heading to meetings. Hotel staff darted between bodies on two feet and stumbled past the few who wandered around on four. Apparently, being in wolf form made the whole sniffy speed dating thing easier. Soon they’d be going into the second round of Tests of Proximity of the day. There, Alpha Pairs got to sit around and see if any of the Marked females belong to them. Sniff! Mark tingles! Mate!

  Voices bounced off the pale marble tile, and the sun shining through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows illuminated luxurious decorations. Hotel Garou was the premier place for wolf-y vacation as well as the location of the annual Gathering. Apparently mate-finding needed to happen in the lap of luxury.

  She needed to see the Ruling Wardens. Now. Today. They were responsible for creating the magic that delivered the Gathering summons to her home. Now they needed to get their mojo working on why she’d been ordered to attend. Hopefully before the Gathering wrapped up shop for the year.

  The Gathering was meant to be a big ol’ party where those who carried a Mark could mingle with Alpha Pairs and hopefully find their mates. Of course, if a Marked wasn’t mated by age thirty, their attendance was required. The Wickham triplets had hit thirty and here they were. Not showing up resulted in… something. She still wasn’t clear on what would have happened if the Wickham gals had stayed home.

  The problem Whitney faced was that while the first two of the Wickham triplets, Scarlet and Gabriella, carried a Mark, she did not. She’d checked. Hell, her sisters had even looked in those hard to reach places. There was no flesh-colored, scar-like symbol on her body indicating she’d someday mate two werewolves and live happily ever after.

  There would be no “woo hoo, cue the rice tossing and tie a few cans to the bumper of their car” for Whitney Wickham. She wasn’t bitter. Not much, anyway.

  She wanted that happy ending, damn it, but she couldn’t have it until the Wardens figured out where their mojo went wrong. Hell, for all she knew there were wires crossed inside her and that’s why she’d been summoned. That was probably the reason she hadn’t ever been happy with any of her exes. It was like bits and pieces of her were Marked while the rest wasn’t. The “want to” was there but the “screw you, it’ll never happen” was a little too strong. Could that be her problem?

  She didn’t know the answer to that question because the freaking Ruling Wardens were dealing with legitimate concerns.

  “Look, furball. I’m the Ruling Alpha Mate’s sister and—”

  “You aren’t a wolf nor a Marked. The Ruling Wardens are resolving wolf matters.” The organizer growled, his eyes flashing yellow and he curled his lip.

  Oh heck no, she wasn’t about to be intimidated. Gripping the pen even tighter, she raised her hand, ready to stab the wolf. She been hauled halfway around the world and had spent the last two days simply waiting for the Wardens to arrive. They’d dragged their asses and now she didn’t have a legitimate concern. She’d show him legitimate.

  Whitney growled, ready to poke tiny holes into the man, only to have her fun snatched from her. Literally.

  “No stabbing ma peeps, Whit. If I hafta be nice to ’em, so do you.” Her sister Scarlet plucked the pen from her hand and then gave the organizer her attention, popping him on the nose with it as if he were a wayward puppy. “Callum, she pulled the ‘Kickass Sister Card.’ Learn it, live it, love it and call it yours because God and everyone takes it. The KSC isn’t like Diner’s Club, bucko. Think of it as an American Express Centurion card.”

  The wolf narrowed his eyes, but what could he say? Two days ago, Scarlet mated the Ruling Alpha Pair of North America. Basically, she was now the Queen Beyotch. And having way too much fun with her new position.

  The organizer closed his eyes and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. His fur receded and disappeared into his skin. That done, he returned his attention to Scarlet.

  “Apologies, Alpha Mate.” The words were shoved through gritted teeth, and sounded less than sincere, but her sister didn’t seem to care.

  Nope, it looked like Scarlet just wanted to poke the werewolf a little more. She patted him on the head. “It’s okay, little puppy.” Not waiting for a response from the wolf, Scarlet turned to Whitney and looped their arms together. “Come on, you can tell me why you’re all homicidal and suicidal. ’Cause even if you try to kill Callum, he’ll end up eating you in a bad way. Then Madden would have to kill him, and it’d all be a big mess. I don’t do cleaning.”

  Whit dug in her heels and shot a glare over her shoulder at the still fuming Callum. “Someone, informed me the Ruling Wardens are discussing legitimate wolf concerns this morning. Can you believe that? Legitimate!”

  Scarlet patted her hand, much like she’d done to Callum’s head moments before. “It’s okay. They’ll learn that you’re the most legitimate concern they’ve ever met. I’ll have one of the guys bite ’em.”

  Her sister glanced around the hallway, and Whitney echoed the move. They were surrounded by werewolves. Some were singles—wolves hoping to meet their werewolf mate at the Gathering. That was another thing that sucked. Alpha Pairs only got to mate with Marked women while individual wolves only mated with other wolves.

  Single, unmarked humans got zip.

  With a resigned sigh, Scarlet tugged her farther along the hall. “Come on, there’s too many super-powered ears here. Let’s go somewhere
else and rehash the whole you oveinglay the ardensway thingy.”

  Several snorts echoed around them, and heat suffused Whitney’s face. “Seriously? Did you think no one would know pig Latin? Really?”

  Besides, she didn’t want to have a redo of the conversation she’d had with her sisters at breakfast…

  “So, Whitney, why were you eye fucking Emmett and Levy? You know the two non-hot, non-sexy Wardens?” Gabby did the whole smirking thing. Bitch.

  Whitney refused to look at her, flicking a crumb off her skirt instead. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Liar.” Scarlet and Gabby said in unison.

  Whit sighed and turned to them. “What did it feel like when you realized that you’d found your mates? I mean, besides the Mark stuff. I’m talking about everything else.” She couldn’t deny the shaky vulnerability that tinged her voice. “Because… Because maybe… maybe they’re mine?”

  Then it’d gone on to screeching, general bitching about the Wardens’ jerked-off-ed-ness starting with their tardiness and ending with their inability to do anything but regurgitate laws. They also added the idea that maybe Whitney had been dropped on her head as a child. Multiple times. Intentionally maybe, because she’d been rather obnoxious as they grew up. Bitches.

  It didn’t matter, though. Her conversation with Callum simply reinforced the differences between her and the wolves. There was no respect or tolerance for humans, Alpha Mate’s sister or not.

  The Ruling Wardens had been dick-esque the previous night when they’d finally shown up. They’d refused to put a stop to Gabby’s Challenge. Some stupid whore-wolf wanted Gab’s mates. Her sister, of course, told the woman to take a hike and then the wolf-girl had Challenged Gabs for the right to mate Berke and Jack. Not that it was possible for the woman to belong to Berke and Jack, but the psycho chick had it in her head that she was their mate and not Gabriella. The woman was bat-shit crazy. The Challenge consisted of a wolf… against a human. Marked or not, the middle Wickham sister couldn’t grow fangs and claws. The Ruling Wardens, Emmett and Levy, spouted the jerk version of “suck it up, buttercup.”

  Instead of wanting to climb them like Mount Everest and plant her flag, she should have run fast and far. Because it was love-slash-lust at first sight. Well, until Callum reminded her of the whole jerk thing.

  Scarlet sighed and tugged on her arm again. “I thought they’d be too dumb to pick up on pig Latin.” Growls surrounded them and her sister simply smiled wide and glanced at the people surrounding them. “Look at how much fun it is to make them angry?”

  With a giggle, she yanked even harder and Whitney had no choice but to follow her from the area. Death wish. Scarlet had a death wish.

  Trailing in her eldest sister’s wake, they tromped down the wide hallway. But instead of inching along the wall, Scarlet cut a swath down the center. She giggled more and more with every step as they slipped through the increasing crowd. At some point, Whitney was sure she heard a comment about the “parting of the furry sea.”

  It was Sunday, the last day of the Gathering. It was also the last few meetings to undergo the Tests of Proximity to see if attending Alpha Pairs could find their mates among the Marked women present. The Ruling Alphas, Madden and Keller, had gotten lucky in finding and mating Scarlet on Friday evening. The Captain of the Guard and his Lieutenant, Berke and Jack, had been equally lucky in snaring Gabriella on Saturday. The others still hanging around were hoping to have the same sort of good fortune.

  They meandered, Whitney shuffling in Scarlet’s wake. At least until they were stopped by a huffing and puffing Callum.

  “Misses Wickham! Misses—” She and Scarlet turned toward the approaching wolf. “Miss Wickham, Whitney, the Ruling Wardens—” He heaved in a great breath.

  “You know, Callum, you really need to add some cardio to your routine. Build up that endurance. I recommend Tae Bo.”

  Whitney looked to her sister with her eyebrow raised. “Really? You’re giving him workout advice? When was the last time you actually did anything other than walk to the elevator?”

  Scarlet scoffed. “Duh, you’ve heard me ‘workout’ like, all the time since I mated Madden and Keller.”

  “I don’t think letting them worship you sexually counts.”

  Her sister rolled her eyes. “Of course it does. I get all sweaty.”

  “With their sweat.”

  “You know what—”

  “Misses Wickham, please.”

  That got Whitney’s attention. “Look at that, he said please and everything.” She smiled. “I don’t think I wanna stab you in the eye anymore. Unless you’re about to bust out with another ‘legitimate.’ Then it’s on. I will so tap dance all over your furry butt.”

  Scarlet snorted. “Tap dance?”

  “What?” She glared at both of them and settled on her sister. “You have Tae Bo, Gabby has P90X. I tap. There’s metal on the bottom of my shoes. They’re dangerous.” She nodded to emphasize her statement and then pointed at Callum. “You just better be thankful I never took up clogging.”

  Callum did not look impressed. “Right.” He cleared his throat. “I have spoken, with the Ruling Wardens and they have agreed to see you now.”

  She wanted to have Callum tell Emmett and Levy to go screw themselves. She wanted him to pass along the message that she hoped they took their high-and-mighty butts over the edge of a cliff. She wanted to have him convey that she was definitely not attracted-slash-half-in-love-with the two superiority-complex having jerks.

  Instead, she smiled, even if Scarlet huffed, and was as polite as possible. “Great. It’s about time they took off their ass-hats.”

  Callum picked up his earlier growling and Scarlet was quick to jump in. “Tut-tut, wolf-boy. She’s still holding the Kickass Sister Card.”

  Callum silenced immediately, his face turning a fun red, and he tilted his head in invitation. “Please, follow me.”

  “See? There’s a benefit to your sister banging the HFICs.”

  “What?”

  “The Head Furballs in Charge.” Scarlet gave her a wink and an unrepentant grin. “Now, go kick some ass. I’ll check up with you later since, I’ve got some, uh… Screw it, I need my mates.” With that, her sister was gone, weaving her way back the way they’d come.

  Finally, Callum opened a heavy door, and the portal swung wide to reveal the Ruling Wardens.

  Tentatively, expecting them to pounce at any moment, she edged into the room. Maybe complaining until they agreed to meet with her had been a mistake.

  The room was as grand as the rest of the hotel with its plush furnishings, authentic antiques and gold plated fixtures. Heavily cushioned, comfortable chairs surrounded the round, dark wood table and more than one set of claw marks marred the surface.

  A sliver of desire shoved at her annoyance as she met Emmett’s brown-eyed gaze. Well, her attention remained on his eyes for all of half a second. It wandered farther to the line of his jaw and scruff that decorated his cheeks, then on to his broad shoulders and heavily muscled chest. She was about to keep on going and get to the good stuff when her focus was snared by Levy. He leaned forward and placed his palms on the table that separated them.

  “Miss Wickham?”

  Was she drooling? Whitney wiped the corner of her mouth and stared at Levy who glared at her in all of his blond hair, blue-eyed glory. A hint shorter than his fellow Warden, he was no less gorgeous or coated in muscles.

  Scarlet had definitely been right on two counts: 1) werewolves had never seen an “ugly stick” and 2) they probably should have had the “Whitney being in ovelay with the ardensway” conversation.

  *

  It hadn’t been a fluke, a trick of lighting, or even a tiny mistake. Nope, Levy still desired Whitney Wickham. Craved.

  He’d caught her scent the previous night while he’d dealt with Gabby’s Challenge. The delicate flavors called to his wolf, but he’d brushed them aside. He’d had larger issues at the tim
e. Even this morning, he and Emmett endured meeting after meeting with various wolves. Long standing disputes were brought to them during every Gathering, and this year was no different. Being the Ruling Wardens came with as many drawbacks as perks.

  A perk was the magic.

  A drawback was the fact no matter how badly he and his wolf desired Whitney, he could never have her. He glanced at his partner and friend; they could never have her.

  “Miss Wickham, please have a seat.” Emmett picked up where Levy left off, gesturing to one of the chairs opposite them.

  His partner’s hand trembled and he sensed Emmett’s attraction to Whitney through their connection. Just as Alpha Pairs were mentally tied to each other, so were Warden Pairs.

  Emmett? Levy spoke to his partner telepathically. He was normally the one that had difficulty controlling himself. His magic was always looking for a moment to break free of him, but it seemed Whitney’s presence was pushing the other wolf to the edge.

  Fuck, Levy… Emmett took a deep breath. Have you ever smelled anything so delicious?

  No, he hadn’t. He’d never seen anything so appetizing, either.

  Her shining brown hair was long, ends curling in rolling ringlets that draped over her shoulders while other lengths rested atop her lush breasts. The strands were like chocolate icing, begging him to come and taste her. It wasn’t just her breasts that were full, though. No, her whole body was layered in curves, ones he ached to trace with his tongue. In the human world, she’d be considered overweight. In theirs, she was perfect. Every inch of her made for him, for them.

  Then again, she wasn’t. The laws were strict and older than anyone knew. It was illegal for a Warden to form a lasting attachment to a female. The risk of the woman influencing the Wardens was too great. The belief was the Warden magic, the bit of something extra inside them, didn’t leave room for the mating of souls. Too many Pairs had committed to a female and then all hell had broken loose. There hadn’t been a mating since it became known that Wardens didn’t have fated mates, even though the emotional connection existed. Laws had been created to make it flat out illegal to even try.