Scattered Siblings 3: To Mate a Werewolf (15 page)

Olivia growled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Listen up, Scarface. If he wins the tournament, he’s marrying me, not some floozy who flings herself at him.”

Joel released Ellie instantly. He snarled and let his teeth lengthen into fangs. He shoved Olivia’s hand from Ellie’s shoulder. Small pinpricks of blood oozed from where Olivia’s claws had sunk into Ellie’s flesh. She blinked hard, but she wouldn’t cave in while the pack watched. Life had made her stronger than that.

Lips drawn back, fangs extended, Joel sprang to his feet. He stepped between the woman he loved and his former fiancée. Ellie didn’t know if it was to protect her, or because he wanted to soothe Olivia and continue their business arrangement. Not that it mattered. Ellie stiffened her spine and sucked it up as she’d done so often in the past.

Inside she wept for everything she’d lost when she screwed Joel on the cliff top, but she had more pride than to fight over a man who only wanted her as the third side of his love triangle. Wife, husband, and mistress.
And guess who gets to be the bit on the side?
No way. Even though Joel called her his true mate, he chose his arranged marriage over her.

Ellie had let her instincts rule her when she’d rushed to Joel’s side. Maybe when Titus attacked Joel from behind, Joel had suffered a concussion. Maybe Joel’s legendary sex drive had made him grab the first available woman. True mate or not, he wouldn’t marry an Elf—especially not one with scars carved in her cheek.

Back when Ellie ran the Lykae mess, she’d ignored the conversations about Joel’s sexual adventures. Now she’d experienced them firsthand. He thought to use her for sex, then marry to the pack’s advantage. Since his attention was on Olivia, Ellie surreptitiously rubbed her hand over her shoulder. It came away bloodstained.

Furious, she planted both hands in the middle of Joel’s back and propelled him toward Olivia. “Have him, you hussy.”

Caught off guard, Joel stumbled forward. He'd have crashed into Olivia if Lysander hadn’t pulled her aside. Olivia struggled briefly, claws out, but Lysander whispered something that made her relax.

She stepped closer to Lysander, and his arm snaked around her waist. Even wrapped in another man’s arms, Olivia snarled. “Remember, Scarface, I’m not an Elven whore. I bet you reveled in those sex-potions I’ve heard the Elves feed their women. Or maybe you’re such a slut you don’t need them. Well, listen, chica, you’re in civilized society now. Get the hell off my man.”

Lysander dragged Olivia away. She softened at his touch, but the look she tossed at Ellie promised retribution.

Talk about the Sword of Damocles hanging over my head. I so do not need this. Isn’t it enough that Joel’s broken my heart?

Not knowing what else to do, Ellie shut her eyes and pictured every stone of the hot pools where she’d bathed with Joel yesterday. She closed her eyes and flashed away.

Chapter Fifteen

Joel let loose a string of expletives when Olivia drove his true mate away. Holding Ellie soothed his hurts and took the sting out of his bruises. One taste of her lips had made everything right.

The look he gave Olivia should have made her turn tail and run. Instead she smirked at him. The woman must be insane. She claimed Joel was her fiancé-in-waiting, then came on to Lysander.

His fangs elongated, and his growl rumbled with danger and threat. “Let’s get one thing clear. The agreement was that you married me, not the Tundra Toughs’ alpha. As soon as the tournament’s over, I will visit your father and offer an alliance with his pack, but understand, I will never marry his daughter.”

Olivia snarled back, her own fangs bared, but Lysander tugged her away.

Joel raised his voice and let it carry over the crowd. “Olivia Deerstalker, there is nothing between us, and if you ever lay a paw on my Ellie again, I guarantee you’ll lose it. If I hear one more insult leave your lips, you will spend the tournament in the lockup, praying the victor will be merciful. And in case there’s any doubt, the victor will be me.”

An embarrassed titter ran through the crowd. Joel didn’t care. Ellie was his, and it was time everyone knew it. He wished he’d picked a better time to tell her—somewhere private and romantic—but he wouldn’t give up on her. He just needed to recover some ground, then get down on one knee and propose.

Once she said yes, he’d fuck her until she walked bowlegged. Hell, forget that, he’d fuck her so thoroughly she wouldn’t be able to walk at all. That way she’d have to stay in his bed.

His feelings had spilled out of him, and while he’d meant every word, his timing sucked. After the way he’d mistreated Ellie and the way Olivia claimed him, his true mate hadn’t believed a word he said. Even his womanizing reputation worked against him. He needed to get out here and find her.

One of his father’s lieutenants stepped into the ring. “King Caleb orders the contenders to wait in the Great Hall while he considers the result.”

Joel cursed under his breath, and while his instincts demanded he find Ellie, he had no choice but to obey his king. Torn between his pack, his duty, and his true mate, he followed the others inside. He just wished Caleb would announce the next challenge and let them leave.

Once inside, Joel stood in the doorway and watched. King Caleb still stood in the center of the ring, his arm protectively around his queen. He faced out across the green and waited until the pack shuffled in closer.
Can they move any bloody slower?
Lysander and Titus lounged against the far wall and glowered at him and Marcellus.

Marcellus moved to Joel’s side. “What’s going on out there?”

“You know full well that asshole, Titus, brained me from behind. Caleb’s working out who was in league with him, and what their punishment should be.” Even to his own ears, Joel sounded bitter.

Marcellus’s face turned an interesting shade of green. Joel had heard about Marcellus’s brother and his hasty temper. He’d probably have taken Marcellus’s throat for this, even though Joel felt certain Marcellus knew nothing of Lysander’s scheme. Not that Joel cared. All he wanted was find Ellie. He had to work out where his true mate had flashed off to.
Damn it, can Caleb drag this out any longer?

Joel had won the match, but he prayed Olivia’s intervention and his ill-timed comments didn’t lose him his true mate.
Elves’ blood, could I be a bigger prat? My Ellie needs careful wooing, and I’ve just embarrassed her again.

Once the crowd settled, Caleb conferred with Alexander and the pack’s lieutenants. Queen Sylvie sat on the edge of the ring, feet dangling. As Joel watched from the window, she rubbed her belly, and tilted her head to one side as though trying to puzzle something out.

Finally Caleb motioned the pack’s lieutenants to bring back the combatants. The four of them paraded to the ring like animals entering the abattoir. Titus and Lysander looked worried. Marcellus held his head high. Joel just wanted to get this fiasco over with so he could search for Ellie.

The crowd reacted as though watching a pantomime—booing the villains and cheering for Joel. Clearly, they still wondered if Marcellus had been complicit in the attack. They stayed silent and sullen as he entered. Titus snarled at the crowd while Lysander remonstrated with him. Just beyond the ropes, Olivia smiled and waved at Lysander.

Caleb didn’t raise his voice, but Joel suspected that Sylvie used her Fae powers to enhance its carrying properties.

“My decision is that Titus is disqualified from the tournament. Understand”—King Caleb pointed directly at Titus—“if you interfere again, I’ll personally tear out your throat. You’re lucky I don’t do it anyway.”

The crowd cheered. Titus curled his lip and whispered to Lysander, “You better damn well win. There’s too much at stake here for us to lose.”

Joel’s Lykae hearing picked up the soft-spoken words, but he worried about losing Ellie, and he hadn’t time to wonder what Titus meant.

King Caleb continued as though no one had spoken. “My decision is that the result stands. Joel takes first place. Marcellus is second, and Lysander third. Titus is disqualified from the tournament and has his previous points revoked.”

The painter put the scores on the board along with subtotals. Overall, Joel had eight points, Marcellus came second with six, and Lysander lagged behind with four.

The crowd went wild, chanting Joel’s name and cheering loudly.

King Caleb ignored them. “Tomorrow’s task will take place in primal form. You will release your inner beasts, race up river, and cross the bridge. Seventeen miles beyond it, you will find three Tundra Toughs standards. The first contender to complete the fifty-mile run and return with a flag wins. There is a time limit of two hours. Anyone who takes longer is disqualified.” Caleb stared at Titus to make his point. “If anyone interferes, he will answer to me. Gentlemen, while the usual rules will apply, tomorrow’s challenge is worth double points, and anything goes. There is one exception. You may not kill or permanently injure your opponents.”

The crowd murmured with excitement. Watching three primal Lykae in combat was a rare experience, even if they’d only race past them for an instant. The entire pack wanted Joel as their next alpha. Since his warrior skills were as legendary as his regiment of female conquests, they were sure he’d win. Tomorrow, the right alpha would rule over their pack.

“They’ll double-team me,” Lysander objected.

Caleb grinned. “Probably, but a good alpha knows how to form alliances. If you’d spent more time sizing up the competition and less flirting with the Lady Olivia, then it wouldn’t be a problem. You will assemble here at noon tomorrow. By three p.m., the Tundra Toughs pack will have the strong alpha they deserve. For now, gentlemen, you are dismissed. Joel, a private word if you please.”

Joel wanted to walk off and ignore him, but Caleb was his king as well as his friend. Joel needed to respect that, but his natural wolf howled for release. He barely controlled it since it wanted to lope over to Pamela's home, certain he’d find Ellie hiding there. His voice came out clipped, and his manner was distracted. “As you wish, sire.”

“Forget the formalities and listen. I’ll make things right with the Desert Marauder pack. There will be no recriminations about Olivia. Go find your pretty Elf and sort out whatever mess you’ve made of courting her. Remember, you can’t have behaved worse than I did with Sylvie.”

Joel doubted that. He’d insulted Ellie and rejected her twice over.
How could I do that to my true mate?
He nodded his thanks, shifted into natural wolf form, and raced off to find Ellie.

The crowd cheered, but he ignored them and kept running. Behind him, he thought he heard Queen Sylvie mutter, “Caleb, about Joel’s mate. I‘m practically certain she isn’t an Elf.”

Joel didn’t have time to think about that now. All that mattered was that he find Ellie.

* * * *

Ellie respected the Tundra Toughs’ laws too much to leave their territory. As a stranger to Rackutta Valley, she didn’t know many places to hide. She flashed to the stone limestone cascade Joel had shown her yesterday and prayed he didn’t follow. If he looked for her at all, he’d go to Pammy’s house or the kitchens of the Great Hall. If he could be bothered.
What sort of wolf wants his true mate as his mistress and not his wife?

Staying there was hard, since her heart demanded she go back and agree to anything Joel wanted. If he kissed her again, she’d turn into the sort of clinging female she despised. After the Elves’ abuse and the way Broken Nose scarred her face, she’d stayed strong and stood on her own two feet. Hell, she’d been doing that since the day she was born, but Joel’s smile shattered her defenses.

Ellie accepted her life would never be easy.
Let’s face it, it hasn’t been so far
. Her mother preferred the gin bottle to her daughter. If Ellie hadn’t learned to cook, she’d have starved. School hadn’t been much better. She’d been the kid in charity-shop clothes. Add in that she had Mr. Spock ears, and her schoolmates had called her a freak. She’d grown up with more imaginary friends than real ones, which why she was so good at daydreaming. Now, all her daydreams centered on Joel.

Okay, it was time she got real.

The shallow cave smelled of burned-out candles and smoke. Yesterday the light of a hundred candles had shimmered inside it. Tonight it was dark, cold, and lonely. The soft glow of the candlelight had warmed her heart, right along with her pussy.

Even though Joel didn’t want her, her clit smoldered for his touch. Her nipples tingled and her breasts ached. When she thought of the kiss she’d shared with him earlier, tears spilled down her cheeks. Her life would be perfect if he loved her the way she loved him, but good things like that never happened to her. Instead Joel used her for sex, and in Ellie’s book, that made him no better than the Elves. They’d scarred her cheek, but Joel had gouged deep furrows into her heart.

As if in slow motion, she walked outside and dangled her feet in the middle pool. Ellie tried to imagine a future that didn’t include Joel. She could feel her heart breaking.
If I’m really his true mate, why does he put pack politics above me. Maybe it’s because I’m an Elf. Maybe it’s my scars. Or maybe he just plain doesn’t like me at all.

She’d never heard of anyone rejecting their true mate before, yet Joel brushed her off as easily as he’d brush crumbs from his lap. Determined to hold back her tears, she splashed warm water on her cheeks. She breathed deeply, trying to find her inner calm, but when she exhaled, her lungs emptied with a sob.

She’d been unwanted since the moment her mother conceived her. Her father walked away, and her mother wallowed in alcohol rather than care for her daughter. All Ellie remembered of her schooldays were the cruel taunts and the name-calling. No friends. No family. No future. And now no Joel.

Her tears started slowly, but they soon turned into a torrent. Her chest heaved, and sobs racked her slender body. She lay on the limestone and wept until she had no tears left. Just once, she wanted someone to love her. Maybe one day, she’d have a plastic surgeon fix her face and her ears. Nothing would fix her heart.