Winter of the Wolf (40 page)

Jealousy punched into Bree’s chest, and she choked on her beer. Her coughing covered the anger and unhappiness in her voice. “You. And them?” Heather was so striking, so smart, and they’d made love to her?
My Shay and my Zeb
?

“Stop.” Vicki closed her hand over Bree’s. “You’re alowed to be jealous, anywhere except at a Gather. Didn’t you notice how the heat affected you?”

Bree bit her lip, seeing Heather’s dismay. The woman hadn’t meant to hurt her. In fact, she had said she’d mated with the men only during that heat stuff. Zeb and Shay had lived in Rainer territory for a couple of years. They’d undoubtedly had been with a lot—dismay tangled her thoughts—jeez, the guys had moved so often they’d probably bedded every Daonain woman in the western states.

She glanced around the room. How many here had known Zeb and Shay in the biblical sense? Darn them. Unsure if she was more furious at the women or the men, she offered Heather a wry smile. “Sorry. It’s a human thing.” Heather shrugged. “Possessiveness is a Daonain trait too, Heather shrugged. “Possessiveness is a Daonain trait too, but it’s hammered into us that a Gathering is sacred time, so jealousy can’t be alowed.” She held her hand out. “If it helps any, there was nothing between me and either of those males except a ful moon heat.”

Bree squeezed the redhead’s fingers. “It helps. Thanks.” She picked up her mug, but it was empty. So were the others’. “My turn to get the beer.”

As she walked across the room, she felt as if her world had tilted, and not because of the alcohol.
I have two lovers
who want to share me, and the other two women think
that’s normal
.

Calum spotted her and held up three fingers in question.

She nodded, knowing she’d get the brands that each woman was drinking. The man had a memory like a steel trap. She winced. Perhaps traps weren’t the best comparison to use with animal shifters.

A stool emptied, and Bree slid onto the seat. Leaning back against the bartop, she looked around. Ful place tonight. The single guys clustered around the bar with a sprinkling of younger women. Older women and mixed groups preferred the tables. Pack members were scattered here and there.

Their outing must be over.

A woman’s voice, loud and harsh, made Bree’s insides curl up into a tight bal.
Thyra
. She glanced over her shoulder to see the alpha bitch and her sidekick, Candice, with a devastatingly gorgeous blonde at a nearby table.

Thyra’s sharp voice cut through the chatter. “No, Gerhard is stil our alpha. Shay acts as if he wants to take over, but he doesn’t have the guts.”

Bree stiffened, and her hand fisted.

“He was the same in Rainier.” The blonde’s laugh was a high tinkle, like the shattering of wine glasses. “Have you had problems with Zeb yet?” Her voice grew louder, as if she wanted to attract attention.

“That cahir.” Candice shivered. “He’s so nasty looking with al those scars, and he’s always starting fights.”

“Oh, he does worse than that,” the blonde said, even more loudly. People turned to look. “With the females—oh, I shouldn’t say.”

Thyra leaned forward. “Tel us.”

“He’s vicious during matings and has even left some females bleeding. Hurt. Crying.”

Angry muttering came from the people nearby. Gretchen continued, “He brutalizes every female he mates.” Anger ran through Bree fast and hard. Her hand slapped the bar, and she glared at the woman. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re a liar.”

The blonde gasped. “I am not. I’ve mated with Zeb and

—”

“So have I.” Bree tossed her hair back and grinned evily.

“Frequently. And with any luck, I wil continue. The man is

“Frequently. And with any luck, I wil continue. The man is superb in bed.”

“Wel, maybe you don’t—”

“Poor Gretchen.” Angie shouldered her way over to stand beside Bree. “Are you stil bad-mouthing any male who doesn’t trail after you, sniffing your butt?” Angie curled an arm around Bree’s waist. “Having enjoyed Zeb’s attentions at a Gather, I’d have to say Bree’s entirely correct. The male can win my favor any ful moon.”

At their table, Heather stood and lifted her hand as if caled upon in school. “I agree. He mates as magnificently as he fights.”

The blonde’s mouth opened and closed.

Bree smothered a smirk. She’d been in enough crowds to know when the tide had turned. She snagged her beer that a tight-faced Calum had set on the bar. “So there you go. That cahir risks his life every month to save ours—and he’s darn good in bed.” She lifted her beer. “Here’s to Zeb!” Al over the bar, glasses were raised, and the roar came back to her, “To Zeb!”

A second later, she realized al attention had focused behind her. She turned and, oh jeez, Zeb stood beside Shay.

She’d never seen that unsettled expression on his face before.

Grinning, Shay slapped his shoulder and shoved him toward her.

toward her.

“A helhound attack would be easier to take,” Zeb rasped as he approached. He nodded at Angie, and she winked at him before heading back to her table. He turned to Bree and studied her with unreadable eyes. “I thought we were fighting.”

Bree rose on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, “I hate her more than you.”

“Wel, then.” Tangling his fingers in her hair, he tipped her head back and set his mouth on hers in a demanding, possessive kiss. With an iron-hard arm around her back, he yanked her against him, and continued—taking it deeper.

Wetter. By the time he finished, heat ran like boiling oil through her veins, and the entire bar was whooping and cheering.

He nipped her earlobe, adding a sizzle of pain, and whispered, “You may enjoy my attention any time your heart desires. My door wil be open.”

After setting her on the bar stool, he jerked his head at Shay and headed for the exit, suffering the hands that slapped his back and the lifted toasts.

Chapter Twenty-eight

Cold Creek, North Cascades Territory ~ Full moon
Cold Creek, North Cascades Territory ~ Full moon
To a chorus of greetings, Bree entered Heather’s room in the Victorian bed and breakfast. Angie was painting her toenails, and Heather was at the mirrored, antique dresser, curling her hair.

Vicki popped out of the bathroom, dressed in skin-tight jeans, a low-cut knit shirt, and makeup that made her dark eyes look huge. “Hey, Bree.”

“Wow—look at you. I thought lifemated people didn’t attend Gatherings?”

“We don’t.” Vicki tossed her long hair back over her shoulder. “But my guys take turns supervising the tavern, and I want to make sure they don’t think they’re missing anything.

Too many gorgeous women come to the Gatherings here.”

“I’ve never seen Alec or Calum give anyone a second look,” Bree said.

Heather shook her head. “I keep teling Vicki that lifemating is more than a bracelet and a vow. It’s caled
life
mating because it goes to the center of you.”

“Oh, yeah.” Vicki set her hand over her chest. “It’s got the pul of a magnet, only it feels like a glowing light.” Then she grinned and puled her shirt down to expose more cleavage.

“But I’ve seen a damned lot of married men screwing other women in humanland.”

women in humanland.”

“I’d feel the same way.” And it would be hard seeing Zeb or Shay with someone else. Her mouth turned down.

“Whatcha got in the backpack, girl?” Angie asked.

“I brought clothes.” Bree dropped her backpack on the floor. “I remember women dressed sexy at the Gathering, but it’s kind of a blur.” And face it, her attention had been on the men. “Can you help me figure out an outfit?”

“No problem,” Angie said. “Show us what you brought, and I hope it’s better than the uninspiring clothes you’re wearing.”

So maybe business casual clothes weren’t that glamorous.

Bree glanced at the dressy—loose—slacks she’d packed.

Guess those wouldn’t work. She puled out a pair of jeans, ones with the higher waistband since the low-cut styles pushed up her flesh until she had handles on each side.

“They might be tight enough,” Heather decided. “Let’s see.”

After tugging them on, Bree dug in the backpack and held up her selection of tops. A long-sleeved white shirt was booed down. A cowl-neck sweater was pronounced the right color, but Angie said the tavern got overheated, so it went back in the bag. Her last choice—a green silky top—

was rejected for the high neck.

“You don’t own sexy clothing?” Heather asked in disbelief. “You’re worse than Vic was.”

disbelief. “You’re worse than Vic was.”

“I have pretty clothes. Just not let’s-get-it-on clothes. I never wanted to attract anyone before.”
Not sure I do now,
if they’re not Zeb or Shay
. The sinking in her stomach was dread, not arousal. What if Zeb and Shay didn’t choose her even once? There’d be lots of other women…and they’d already mated with her. She bit her lip, feeling like an unwanted mongrel.

Heather studied her. “Hmm. I have a peasant top. It’s sexy enough on me, but on you—with your breasts?”

“Men’s tongues wil drag the floor.” Vicki snickered.

“Lose the bra.” Heather handed over a rich blue floral top.

“But—”

“Your girls don’t sag,” Angie said. “Be practical. Taking a bra off when you’re ready to mate is a pain in the tail.” The nods were unanimous. She dropped her bra on the floor and donned the royal blue top. It had an elastic neckline and didn’t seem al that sexy until Angie puled the gathered sleeves down, baring her shoulders.

Hoots and clapping made it sound like there were a hundred women in the room.

Bree checked the mirror. “Oh my heavens.” The neckline showed a…lot…of cleavage, and the clingy thin fabric didn’t hide her braless state. Every time she moved, things wobbled.

“Donal might have to deal with some heart attacks,” Angie muttered.

“Perfect,” Heather pronounced. “Now, let’s see what we can do about your totaly inadequate make-up job.” Bree turned wide eyes on her,

Vicki snickered. “She’s a lot like my first dril sergeant.”

“Are you an alpha female in your pack?”

“The Mother forbid.” Heather grimaced. “I’m too busy for more responsibilities. Besides, the alpha male makes me want to puke.”

Bree frowned. An alpha female had responsibilities? Thyra never seemed to do anything. And why did alphas have to like each other? Thyra and Gerhard didn’t live together.

More questions to ask the guys or Angie.
I need to make a
list
.

“I’m going to add a line to my resume,” Heather said airily, pushing Bree down in front of the mirror. “Humans taken by the scruff and oriented to shifterland. Catchy, eh?”

* * *

Shay sat at the bar. The conversations in the tavern had the added intensity of aroused shifters: lowered masculine voices, breathy feminine ones. Various scents drifted past, an older female, a young one, then an aggressive, familiar scent.

Thyra
.

Despite the three males competing for her attention, she Despite the three males competing for her attention, she gave him a long speculative look.

Not interested, alpha bitch
. His cock didn’t even twitch.

Deliberately rude, he resumed scanning the crowd. He’d pick a female and go upstairs eventualy, because it was required, but he wanted—needed—to make sure that Breanne would be al right.

Although seeing her with another male might kil him. The jealousy pissed him off good. Shifters didn’t get possessive, not on Gathering night. Why did it feel as if someone had changed the rules on him?

Beside Shay, Zeb wasn’t in a happy mood either. His top lip drew up in a silent snarl. “I feel more like fighting than fucking, but if we disrupt a Gathering, Calum might claw our bals off.”

Nasty thought. He’d seen the Cosantir in cougar form, and he wanted those lethal long claws nowhere near his pride ‘n’

joys. “No fighting,” he agreed.

“Want to go pretend to patrol?” Zeb asked.

“Yes.” Hel, he wasn’t even hard. “But let’s make sure she’l manage first.”

Zeb nodded to the entrance. “She’s here.” Breanne stood in the doorway with her back to the room, speaking to someone outside. Her long waterfal of blonde hair reached almost to the jeans that curved under her lush ass. She turned.

ass. She turned.

May the Mother save me
. Her eyes were bigger somehow, her mouth shiny and red. And al he could think was how those glossy lips would look around his cock. He inhaled slowly, since the air in the bar had turned to steam.

Her blouse exposed her shoulders, smooth and pale, and her breasts… Shay’s cock not only stood up but tried to bust out of his jeans.

Zeb straightened. “Males are looking at her.” His tone held the growl of imminent attack.

Shay slapped a restraining hand against his brother’s chest.

“She’s not ours. It’s Gathering Night.” He heaved in a strangling breath of air. “She’l mate with other males.”

“
Not. If. They’re. Dead
.” Zeb stared at her and stood.

When Shay snapped, “No,” Zeb gave a shake, as if flinging water from his fur. Jaw tight, he leaned back against the bar.

“We stay long enough for her to pick someone,” Shay gritted out. “We make sure she returns safely. Then we leave until later. Until she’s had a chance to be with others.”

* * *

Entering the tavern was like stepping into a sauna—one filed with overwhelming scents and sounds. After staling at the door, Bree managed to edge farther into the room.

As Heather folowed, Bree saw her face flush.

As Heather folowed, Bree saw her face flush.

Bree’s probably looked the same, since her nerves felt as if they’d had been abraded into a hot sensitivity. On the walk over, her breasts had wobbled with every step. Now they sweled until she felt as if she stil wore a bra—one a size too smal.

A flash of panic hit, and she froze. A breath, another, and she managed to relax. True, her hormonal faucet was cranked wide open, but, after being with Zeb and Shay, she could deal with the sensations of arousal.