At the Viking's Command (Warriors Unleashed Book 2) (13 page)

“Explain.” Calder wasn’t in the mood for fairy tales or bullshit, and he had a feeling that Even was good at both.

Even pointed at the bite mark on Calder’s forearm. “That’s a mating mark right there.”

Right. He almost smiled, except that wouldn’t fit with his bad-ass Viking image. A mating mark sounded…permanent. And he liked the sound of that. It was the werewolf plus-ones he could do without.

“Explain,” he growled.

Tyra didn’t look scared. She looked—happy. “Even’s right. I claimed you. You were available. I wanted you. I took you.”

“You were planning on telling me this—when?”

She waved a finger in his direction as her answer. A
middle
finger.

His eyes narrowed. “The middle of next week? Or maybe never?”

“Remember: you owe me for the knife thing.” She flashed him a grin.

“The mating
thing
happened before the knife thing,” he pointed out.

“Details.” She smiled at him again and the happy wattage made him want to forget that she’d apparently set him up to become the new Alpha.

“I’m not a wolf.”

She shrugged. “It’s helpful, but not a job requirement.”

He looked around at the wolves. They weren’t a real prepossessing lot. It was downright hard to believe they were supposed to be responsible for the end of the world. He could see why Tyra wanted to look out for them. There were a few wolves that needed to go—two hard-eyed males were already slinking away and, from the assessing look Even shot the pair, it was good riddance. Maybe some wolves did need killing. The others, though, seemed hopeful. They weren’t a bunch of cute-eyed puppies like those fucking YouTube videos Var liked to send everyone, but they’d do.

“You realize,” he said, running a hand down Tyra’s back and resting it on her ass, “that if I’m the Alpha then you’re at the Viking’s command.”

The way his little mate’s eyes widened, she hadn’t considered those ramifications. He grinned. Yeah. The learning curve was going to be fun with this one.

~~~

Tyra pulled free and ran, her boots flying over the snowpack. He didn’t know whether her backwards glance meant
Chase me
or
Stay the hell away
but he needed to find out. He started to jog after her.

A hard arm stopped him in his tracks. What. The. Hell. He considered ripping the offending appendage off, but he recognized the arm.

“You’ve got it bad,” Vikar said, like the man was commenting on the weather and not coming between Calder and his mate.

No. Right now he had himself a wolf Pack and no Tyra. Anything else was incidental.

“I’m done here.”

Vikar nodded, like Calder had ponied up more than three words. “Of course you are. But not out there. Hang out with me for a moment.”

He might have just inherited a werewolf pack of his very own—merry Christmas—but Vikar was still his commander. If the man was laying down orders, he had his reasons. Not following Tyra immediately was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he stopped.

“You want to think this through,” Vikar said.

Frankly, Calder didn’t think the situation required all that much thinking. When he ducked inside the turf hut Even motioned him toward, the werewolf lair was definitely no Four Seasons. In fact, in terms of amenities, it barely ranked one step above the pit cells. That was going to change.

“Her things,” Even growled behind him, sounding pissed off. Calder agreed with the unspoken condemnation. Tyra deserved far better than an old sleeping bag and a pillow. The old wolf Alpha might not have appreciated her, but Calder did.

Part of him was tempted to make the wolf pack pay for what they’d done to her. Leif had kicked her out. The bastard would have been happy to let her die alone in the snow. He thought about that while he picked up her sleeping bag and folded it into neat squares. He didn’t think she’d want it back but, if she did, he’d have it for her. He added the pillow to the stack, stalked outside, and handed the lot to Vikar.

“Put these somewhere safe.”

A knowing smile tugged at the corners of Vikar’s mouth. “You fall hard.”

“I don’t
fall
.”

“Uh-huh.” Vikar tucked the bundle under his arm. “That’s why you’re picking up her things. Just in case she wants them.”

“I’ll give her better,” he vowed.

Not all of the wolves had hurt Tyra. Even, for example, had clearly been working his way up to a coup. The other man had been strategic. Although Calder appreciated a good strategy, he also wanted to howl because Tyra should have come first.
He’d
put her first. So part of him wanted to rip Even apart and let the wolf bleed out for her. Unfortunately, he’d also seen the affection in Tyra’s eyes when she’d greeted Even. That likely put rending and tearing off-limits, at least for today.

Vikar slapped him on the back. “Good man. Now ask yourself why.”

It was simple. Wasn’t it? “She’s mine.”

“Because she mated you.”

That too. “I don’t care why.”

Var grabbed the sleeping bag. “You do. Care, that is. That’s why you’re carrying her crap around and getting ready to run after her. I’m also betting that’s why we’re going to be hosting a werewolf sleepover in our keep.”

Vikar looked pain. “He can build his own goddamned keep. I’ll share the island, but that’s as far as I’m going.”

That unfamiliar sensation of
something
unfurled in the pit of his stomach and worked its way up until it hit him in the damned heart. He’d planned on taking care of Tyra’s wolves.
His
wolves. He hadn’t expected his brothers to volunteer for the job as well.

“You can kick their asses into shape,” Var volunteered.

“Or keep them from getting neck-deep in Ragnarök.”

Too late for that, but the thought was a nice one.

He nodded. “I’ll do that.”

Tyra would like it.

When he caught the hell up to her.

“Can I go after her now?”

Vikar grinned. “Yeah. But ask yourself one question first: are you going to tell her that you love here now, when she’s in her furry form, or are you going to be able to hold out until dawn?”

~~~

Her wolf yipped, eager to play the chase-me-catch-me game. She’d circled the camp once, twice, but Calder hadn’t seemed interested. He was having some kind of heart-to-heart with Vikar and Var. With a bark, she gave up and tore off across the snow pack. Not too many hours of darkness remained, but she had enough time for a good run.

Dawn was coming fast. With each step she took, she was more Tyra and less wolf. Neither was sure when Calder began to chase her, running behind her in a hard, even rhythm she’d bet he could sustain for hours.

He
did
want to play.

Or throttle her.

Her wolf picked up the pace, driving faster, but he seemed content to trail her. So…the question was, did she
want
him to catch her? The wolf recognized its chosen mate and so did the woman. When she scented the hot spring up ahead, that seemed like as good a spot as any to bring things to a halt. Or to get them going in a new direction.

The hot spring was tiny, a small circular pool of heated mineral water surrounded by a spongy carpet of grasses. Steam rose off the water, a welcome contrast to the ice-studded fjord on her right. She dropped down near the edge, hidden in the shadows, panting. The horizon had lightened from inky black to a dark gray. She’d be human again in less than an hour. She should head back to camp and her clothes. Covering the distance she’d run, barefoot and naked, would be unpleasant.

Calder stepped out of the shadows. “You ready to stop running?”

Was she? The wolf considered that, enjoying the chase-me game. Chasing was fun. Catching was…sexy. Popping to its feet, the wolf half-danced around the hot spring, daring the man to follow.

“I’ll take that as a
no
,” Calder said. He sounded tired.

The wolf hesitated, concerned.

And Calder pounced, moving quickly. He wrapped strong arms around her, pulling her close.

“Caught you.”

The wolf sensed possession. Tenderness. And something else she was scared to put a name to. Calder didn’t seem in any hurry to move on, though, so the wolf settled in cautiously, leaning against him. They sat there together, watching for dawn and the sun coming up over the horizon. He held her, rubbing one big hand over her fur, and her wolf whined happily. Having a mate was good.

Right.

Tyra’s human side knew Calder didn’t believe in happily-ever-after and forevers. He didn’t make promises and he wouldn’t marry her like Vikar had Pure. What they had here would have to be enough.

It was certainly more than anything she could ever remember having.

8

The sun came up and Tyra shifted in his arms. She looked uncertain—and naked. Very, very naked. Her sweet curves were a sight he’d happily look at for years to come. For forever. Viking Berserkers were near-immortals and the wolves were also long-lived, if Pack life didn’t kill them. He was talking about a hell of a lot of years and that was an emotional gut shot he hadn’t expected.

“Welcome back,” he said roughly.

Rather than easing out of his arms as he’d expected, she burrowed closer. He had clothes for her in his pack, but he could give her those later. Instead, he wrapped his coat around them both and held her closer.

“Are you mad?” she asked, blunt as ever.

“About?” Would she always leave him off-balance?

She pushed back slightly, angling her head so she could see his face. Her shift had left her beautiful hair standing up in wild, crazy clumps around her face. She looked like she had just rolled out of bed.

“The fight. Assuming the Alpha role in our Pack.” She hesitated.

“Your mating me without asking?” He suggested.

“Yeah.” She didn’t look away. “That too.”

“You hired me to get a job done,” he said. “I did it.”

She chewed on her lower lip and he ached to suckle that lip, to run his tongue over the plump curve and taste her. “I might have left out a few details.”

“There’s no
might
about it,” he told her. She was cunning, smart, and ferociously protective of her Pack. She’d recognized that Leif’s unchecked ambition and ill-thought out assassination plan put all of the wolves at risk—and she’d acted. He respected that.

“So answer my question,” she said. “Are you mad?”

“Another time, you should trying talking to me. You’d be surprised what I’m fine with.”

He felt her relax subtly in his arms. “So there’s going to be a next time?”

Knowing his mate, yeah. She shifted in his arms—getting comfortable—and he tucked her closer, burying his face in her crazy messed-up hair. She’d hired him to do a job—and she’d saddled him with a wolf Pack. He could walk away. He thought about that for a minute, but somehow leading the Pack no longer seemed so strange. He could do it with her. In fact, he’d bet she’d kick his ass if he tried to do it without her.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said into her hair.

“And my Pack?”

“I’m keeping all of you.”

She rubbed his chest with her hand and he wished he could see her face. Know what she was thinking.

“Thank you.”

He didn’t want her thanks—he wanted her. His mate.

“You hired me to do a job. You said: Fight for my Pack. I’m still doing that.” He stopped dead, thinking about the motley assortment of wolves waiting for them.

“
Hel.
You all need more work than the worst fixer-upper. Our Pack is dysfunctional, rude, violent, and has a definite attitude problem.”

“True.” He heard the laughter in her voice.

“If you were going to give me a wolf Pack as a
wedding
gift, you could have at least made it a good Pack.”

“
Wedding
gift?”

“Yeah.” To
hel
with it. He shrugged out of his duster, laid back, and pulled her on top of his chest. “Arms.”

He worked her into his leather coat. She looked cute—and still bare-ass naked. Parts of him woke right up and started reminding him about the things they could do. On his coat. In the hot spring. So much for the trying the romance thing—instead, she got a hard-as-
hel
in-love Viking.

“You gave me a Pack. I’m giving you bunch of surly, bad-ass Vikings who go furry when they’re pissed off. I might actually be getting the better end of the deal.”

“We have a deal.” The expression on her face softened. For him. He could kind of get used to having her look like that at him.

“I can get a ring. We can have a ceremony. None of those. All of them. Whatever you want.”

Shit. Now he was babbling.

She stared at him, stunned. “You’re serious.”

“Yeah. You’re mine. I’m yours.” God. What if she
didn’t
want him? What if she said
no
? “If that’s what you want.”

“God. Yes.” She kissed him hard, like they’d been separated for months or years instead of just a few hours. Maybe they’d kiss like this every morning, make up for her shifted time with kisses and closeness and sex. He’d be on board with that plan.

“You could say it,” he suggested hoarsely when they surfaced for air long minutes later and he was seriously thinking about rolling her over and showing her exactly how much he loved her.

“Maybe in the hot springs.” She winked at him. “I have all sorts of ideas about that hot spring.”

He stood swiftly, scooping her up into his arms. “I liked that jacket.”

“No, wait. Calder!” She couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling up as she frantically tugged her arms free. “I’ll say it. I love you.”

But she was already arcing gently through the air toward the water, leaving him holding his jacket and his heart in his hands.

It was the work of a moment to strip off and then join her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on. That was a good start.

He looked her in the eye. She had such pretty eyes. “I love you too.”