His brother’s Luna, his mate

Sharing stories

*Ethan*

Thank the Goddess for the knock on the door. That is all that runs through my mind. Thank the Goddess, thank the Goddess, for the knock on the door.

I had been on the verge of lifting her into my arms and carrying her to the bed. For the first time since my return, I hadn’t been consumed with guilt, buried in grief. Instead, I had been lost in passion, desire such as I have never known. Her fragrance, her heat, her softness. It doesn’t matter that it would have been the worst possible thing I could have done. For a moment she served as a blessed distraction. The fire in her kiss...

Good Goddess. Where the devil had that come from? Certainly, there had been a spark that night in the garden, but what I just experienced has fairly consumed me. Maturity and knowledge gained have replaced innocence and naivete. A lethal combination that could send my good intentions to perdition.

With an unsteady hand, I reach for the wine, begin pouring, see her arch a delicate brow, and refrain from refilling my glass to the top. Being alone with her in a bedchamber is proving to be incredibly dangerous to my ruse. But how to avoid it? I have to recall that she holds no affection whatsoever for Ethan, that the kindness she is showing me, the temptations she offers, are merely offered because she believes I am Nathan.

This is Josie who had kicked me out of my brother’s residence because I arrived home in the early hours in an inebriated state that she didn’t fancy. Josie who had encouraged Nathan to reduce my allowance so I couldn’t indulge to my heart’s content in wine, she-wolves, and wagering. Josie who always looked at me as though I am something she has recently scraped off the bottom of her shoe.

Josie who has arranged an elaborate and elegant funeral for a man she couldn’t tolerate. Who has seen to a few guests without complaint even though it has exhausted her. Who has kissed me as though no one in the world were more important to her. Who had initiated the kiss. I have never had a she-wolf do that before. It is incredibly intoxicating.

If she had hated me after the encounter in the garden, she is going to hate me doubly so when she learns the truth and recalls this kiss. I have to avoid my lips coming within a hair’s breadth of hers, lest I forget again that I am not the one she loves, the one she desires, the one with whom she has exchanged vows.

Looking down at my plate, I bite back a curse. Garnished fish. Of course, on a day like today, the cook would prepare Nathan’s favorite. I have never developed a taste for it. I prefer my meat red and bloody.

“What were you reminiscing?” She asks.

I jerk my head up, see Josie studying me as though once again beginning to have doubts about me. “Pardon?”

“In the library. You said that you and the others were reminiscing. About Ethan, I assume. Did it help to recall happier times?”

It might have, I think, if that had indeed been what we were discussing. While I hope to minimize my lies to her, I can’t eliminate all the little white ones. “A little.”

“Share something with me.”

If I could sip on your mouth whenever I wanted, I could do without wine. “Such as?”

“Something about Ethan. A pleasant memory. We never really spoke much about him except when you expressed your worry that he would come to an untimely and unpleasant end, or when I lost patience with his... questionable activities.” She says.

Nathan worried over me? I know my brother was not happy with the way I led my life, but I hadn’t known he actually worried over me. Whenever Nathan took me to task, I simply viewed it as an older brother being disappointed or needing to control a younger one.

Yet, I promised Nathan if he took the journey to the dark lands with me, that when we returned I would settle down, marry, and seek a position in Alpha Parliament. I hate that I can’t be certain it was a promise I would have kept. I would have said anything to get Nathan to go with me. That truth pains me now: that I might not have been completely honest with the one person who has always been absolutely forthright with me.

She is waiting expectantly for me to tell her something about a man she disliked, and for the first time that I can recall, I want her to have a favorable impression of me. “Ethan didn’t like being the second son.”

“I suspect most second sons don’t,” she says gently, no disapproval in her tone.

Before I left on my trip with Nathan, she had only ever spoken to me with disapproval threaded through her words. I don’t like that I now enjoy the soft tenor of her voice, that I am suddenly finding it very easy on the ears. “Ironically, though, he had no desire whatsoever to be the Alpha.”

“Too much work,” she says with a smile.

I find myself returning her smile, only a slight lift of one corner, but it's more than I ever thought I would experience again. “Exactly. You knew him very well.”

“Not really. I regret that now. But we digress. Something pleasant.”

Something pleasant. The fish definitely doesn’t fit that category, and while I have only managed a few bites without gagging, I set my plate aside and snatch up my wineglass while I still have an excuse for indulging. “At first, we didn’t like living at the castle. It didn’t take us long to determine that something wasn’t quite right. None of the clocks worked, not a single one ticked. The castle was larger than this place, but there were only half a dozen servants. We were forbidden from entering a good part of the castle, many of the rooms locked. So Ethan began plotting our first expedition.” I smile at the memory, the seriousness of it. In this story, at least, I can be myself.

“You told me once that the Prince had stopped all the clocks when his mate died.” She says.

My smile withers. Damnation. How am I to know what Nathan has shared and what he hasn’t? Surely she will give an indication if she knows this story. “The Prince stopped a lot of things when his mate died. Living, mostly.”

“I can imagine that. I don’t know what I would have done had it been you who died.” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for us to go there. We’re at the castle.”

Still, her words merely confirm that my present course is truly the only one open to me if I wish to honor the vow I made to Nathan. While I might not have been a man of my word before, I damn well plan to be one now. “I don’t know why we got it into our heads that we could go exploring only at midnight. It wasn’t as though anyone was truly about during the day to interfere.”

“More forbidden at night, after you all were supposed to be abed, I imagine. That’s when I would have gone,” she says with a tantalizing wicked upturn of her lips.

I fight not to stare. At that tempting luscious mouth and at the sparkle in her eyes that hints she would have been right there alongside us, sneaking down dark corridors with only a single candle to light our way.

I don’t much like discovering that she is comprised of unexplored facets. I like even less that I find myself wanting to explore them. I merely want to walk in my brother’s shoes until his heir is born, walk cautiously forward without taking any side jaunts. Getting to know Josie better has not been part of my plan. Still, I have to acknowledge she has the right of it. “More adventuresome as well when we were in danger of getting caught, as the Prince roamed the hallways at night. I often heard his soft footfalls going past my bedchamber door, so the thrill of escaping back to our beds unscathed was a driving force,” I admit.

Her smile blossoms into something that causes a tightening in my chest. “And did you?” she prods.

“Do you want me to spoil the story by giving you the ending to our adventure?” I ask.

She reduces her smile a fraction. “Now you sound like Ethan with his obsession for storytelling.”

The tightening in my chest turns to a pang. She is right, of course, but hearing her say it makes me realize how deeply Ethan's absence affects her, perhaps even more than I initially thought. I need to tread carefully, to balance the act of being Nathan while keeping the essence of Ethan alive for her.

Damnation. I have slipped. I always enjoyed weaving tales. Nathan preferred a more direct approach, never taking the time to enhance the narrative.

“He was always so good at it,” she continues.

I blink, wondering if I've heard correctly. “I didn’t think you noticed.”

“I loved listening to his stories. It’s the reason I always held a dinner party when Ethan and the others returned from one of their adventures. I knew he would never bother to share his exploits with me, but he would weave a mesmerizing tale for others, for an audience. It didn’t hamper his storytelling to know I was in the back of the room, although I tried not to let on how much I was enjoying it, lest he decline the next time I invited him

“I didn’t know.” I had assumed she had always done it for the attention it brought to her. The Luna of Greyfur managing to provide Pack Society with a night of entertainment courtesy of the Hellions of Evermoor, as the four of us were often called.

She lifts a delicate shoulder. “I have a few secrets.”

I find myself wanting to uncover every one, although I suspect, for the most part, they are innocent, trivial, while the one I now hold from her is horrendous. “He thought you had no interest in his trips. If you had merely asked…”

“He would have said no. You know he would have. Ethan had no wish to please me, to please anyone other than himself. It inflated his self-esteem to have an audience, and so I provided it. And in return, I got a little something for myself. Hearing about the adventures.” She sighs.

She is wrong. Had she asked, I would have woven the tales for her, just for her. How was it that we managed not to know each other at all, when Nathan had been so important to both of us?

“Now finish sharing your memory,” she prods, interrupting my thoughts.

“If I tell it like Ethan might have, well, it’s only because I had two months of listening to him prattle on. He did like hearing the sound of his own voice.” I mumble.

She laughs lightly. “That was always obvious. He was never lacking in confidence.”

Her tinkling laugh serves to lift a fraction of the pall of sorrow that has enveloped me with Nathan’s death. How odd that it is she, rather than Ashe or Killian, who provides a spark of hope that a time will come when I won’t feel as though I have gone into the vault with my brother. I wish I could tell her the truth now, wish we could share our memories of Nathan.

“Arrogance, more like,” I offer. “He never doubted that we could break undetected into the large salon.”

“That was your first expedition?”

I nod, “Yes. He drew up a plan of the residence and our route… not a direct one, of course. That would be too boring. It included lots of twists and turns. He had managed to sneak into the housekeeper’s room after she’d gone to sleep and nicked her keys. He led the way with a candle. We were terrified.”

“But you saw it through.”

“We did. The walls were mirrored. Ashe squeaked like a mouse that had been trapped by a cat when he caught sight of his reflection. It was eerie. Chandeliers and candelabras unlit, serving as anchors for cobwebs. No light except for the solitary candle. There were dead flowers in vases. Dust covered everything. The musty odor was thick in the air. I don’t think anyone had been inside the room in years. That’s what we discovered on each of our adventures: a room abandoned, no longer used. But we got bolder with our explorations, always found something that made us glad we’d ventured forth. I think that’s the reason, when we were old enough, that we began exploring the world.” I look toward the fire. “Ethan started it all. Had we ever gotten caught, we might not have begun to think we were invincible.” I turn my attention back to her. “Still, most of the memories are good ones.”

She studies me again, as though striving to figure me out. “I’m glad you have them.”

With a nod, I finish off my wine and stand. “It’s late. I will see to having the servants come clean up the mess so you can retire. I also want to check on our guests.”

“Will you come back and sleep with me tonight?” Her eyes hold such doubt, and I know it has cost her to ask. I am also acutely aware that she shouldn’t have to plead with me for anything. Nathan would grant her anything she desired. I am failing miserably at the task I’ve set myself.

I hesitate. “I don’t think it’s wise with the baby.”

“I think we’re safe if all we do is hold each other. Until you went on this trip, I had forgotten how much I disliked sleeping alone.”

“Yes, all right.” Then, although the words are a lie, I know I have to say them. “I have missed holding you.”

She gives me that smile again, the one that tears a hole in my chest while managing at the same time to make me grateful she bestows it. Before all is said and done, she is going to be the death of me.