The Knight; His secret author

Her half brother

His mouth returned to mine with a fervor and hunger that stole my breath and probably should have frightened me. Instead, I welcomed him, knowing it would be impossible to ever have enough of him.

She-wolf, the Alpha of my Desires, A Memoir

*Knightley*

I'm sitting at the Twin Wolves while my friends carry on a conversation about an investment opportunity with a firearms manufacturer from the Western Lands. I can't stop thinking about the time I spent that afternoon with Althea. Every word uttered, every glance, every touch, and then that damned kiss.

I fully expected her not to respond to the kiss, to rebuke me by not reacting at all. Instead, she poured all she was into it, and by doing so, although it might not have been her intention, she punished me tenfold by reminding me of what I will never again fully possess.

I'm like the character in her book, willing to do anything Miss Althea Leyland asks of me. What she asks, nay, demands is that I never touch her again.

Which I never intended to begin with. To ever touch her again. But having done it that afternoon, the thought of never having that particular pleasure for the remainder of my life is pure torment, the pain most assuredly deserved.

“You mentioned you had a favor to ask of me?” King prods.

I glance over at my friend. When the others had begun to take their leave, I asked King to remain behind for a few minutes, and as I settled back into place, my thoughts began to drift into the occurrences that afternoon instead of remaining transfixed on the reason I asked King to stay. I fight to refocus my attention on the matter at hand. “Yes. I would like you to invite Miss Althea Leyland to your ball.”

King releases the tiniest huff of disbelief before leaning forward and bracing his forearms on his thighs. “You’re no fool, Knightley. You must know that particular she-wolf from your past is most likely the one who penned the book that is now on everyone’s tongue. I swear, since we were last here, I have not had a single conversation with a solitary person in which that damned book has not come up and I am constantly asked if Alpha K is my firm friend Alpha Knightley. It’s deuced irritating.”

“How do you respond to such impertinence?”

“I tell them I haven’t a bloody clue.” Looking abashedly guilty, he glances around before leveling his gaze back on me. “However, my Penny managed to obtain a copy.”

“I thought the book had become available only in a shop’s secret rooms reserved for pornographic materials.” I mumble.

“My Penny is exceedingly resourceful. Why do you think she made such a superb secretary? But more importantly, she’s been reading it aloud after we have retired to bed.” He clears his throat. “It is quite titillating. That aside, the descriptions of this Alpha K, both his physical appearance and mannerisms, it's as though you stepped onto the page in all your arrogant glory.”

I chuckle low. "Arrogant? Why not merely confident?"

"That as well." He says.

I shrug. "The author could be a she-wolf who merely lusted after me from afar and simply penned her fantasies. I have had many admirers over the years."

"Do you truly believe that?" He asks

I trust no man more than I do King, but still am reluctant to confirm the author’s identity to anyone. "Chidding has an interest in Althea. She deserves a good man and happiness. I’m striving to provide an avenue that will lead her toward the altar with someone worthy of her."

With an insolent grunt, King settles back against the thick leather cushion. "You obviously still have some feelings for her. Why not marry her now?"

"I vowed never to marry. We will leave it at that. Will you invite her to your ball?" I fight not to squirm under my friend's intense scrutiny.

Finally, King shoves himself to his feet. "Consider it done. Now, if you will be kind enough to excuse me, my mate and chapter four awaits."

I laugh low and darkly as my friend takes his leave. I don't know whether to be chagrined or elated with pride at what that particular chapter will reveal about me. The author hadn’t gone into minute detail, but she had admitted how much she had enjoyed my mouth gliding over her skin. However, threaded throughout the tale were the hints that none of it had been real, that it had been seduction with no substance.

Which made it fiction.

Although she didn’t realize it. Her perception, in hindsight, of what had transpired between us from start to finish could have been nothing other than devastating, believing I’d made a fool of her. She had not heard my keening wail when I had realized I couldn’t have her for eternity. She had not seen the gaping hole my fist had battered into the wall.

She had not brushed the tears from my cheeks. She had not been witness to my despair not only for what it had cost me, but more for what it had cost her.

“My Alpha?”

I glance up to find myself staring at her half-brother, hovering, slightly bent, like a troll lurking beneath a bridge. “Alpha Bremsford.”

“May I join you?”

Having never much liked the man, I'm tempted to reply, No you bloody well may not. But curiosity has me nodding toward the chair King had recently vacated. The Alpha settles into place. He has Althea’s blond hair and brown eyes, but there the similarities end. He is a mismatch of features: his father’s hawk-like nose, his mother’s near-absent lips. And his narrowed eyes are far too calculating.

A young servant approaches and sets a glass of scotch before each of us. I experience one of the rare moments when I wish this club wasn’t so accommodating to its members, because if I were in my own residence, I wouldn’t have been hospitable and offered the man, only a couple of years older than myself, a glass of anything. I would have simply waited for him to reveal his business and be gone.

Alpha Bremsford takes a sip and smacks his lips with what I assume is a show of appreciation for the fine liquor. But my own glass remains untouched. If the Alpha notices the slight, he ignores it.

“I was wondering if you might confirm for me that you are in fact Alpha K.” He asks.

I glare and shake my head while releasing an impatient gust of air. "Bloody hell, Bremsford, you are not listening to gossip, surely. How the devil would I know?"

"It’s just that I heard you were brandishing a copy of that disgraceful book around at the gaming tables the other night, so I assumed you had read it." He says.

"It was given to me while I was here, and I didn’t have a pocket large enough to accommodate it, and therefore I was forced to carry it about. I certainly wasn’t brandishing it." I huff.

His eyes light up, "But have you read it? For if you have, perhaps you can confirm that the author is my father’s by-blow. She was always a bit rash."

"How would you know how she was, My Alpha? As I understand it you did all in your power to avoid her." I remember the night Althea had spoken about her half-siblings. How she has never met them. Her voice had been laced with a deep sadness, her tone one of immense loss, but even then, she had had too much pride to weep.

"I have heard enough about her over the years, I know she wrote lengthy letters to my father whenever responsibilities kept him away from her w***e of a mother. When you rightly jilted her, she became a she-wolf scorned. And she has no shame. I am not the only one to suspect it is she who has boldly written about intimacy, yours and hers. What better way to exact her revenge than by bringing notoriety to your door? To ensure you are no longer held in high esteem by your peers and others among the high packs?"

I shake my head, "If she was going to go to such a bother, why not do it soon after she was scorned? Why wait nearly five years?"

"Because Father was still alive, and she wouldn’t dare risk embarrassing him. She couldn’t guarantee her identity wouldn’t be uncovered or that the gossips wouldn’t point the finger to her. No, she would have waited in order to avoid his censure. But now he is gone. You are the only one to suffer the embarrassment, at her whim. Who is to say it will be the last book she pens? She may have decided to pursue a career as a writer in order to supplement the substantial allowance my father arranged for her. She is greedy that way."

It is a very good thing I have not picked up my glass of scotch because the force with which my hand closes into a fist would have shattered the crystal. "I never knew her to be greedy. If anything, I found her to be far too generous."

"In your experience . . . with her spreading her legs wide for you." He grins.

I barely remember catapulting out of my chair, but suddenly with one hand fisted around Alpha Bremsford’s shirt, near his throat I am hauling the man to his feet, my other hand knotted tightly, prepared to deliver a blow to the man’s gut. "You will speak of her with respect, or I’ll beat bloody manners into you until you do."

"Don’t be a hypocrite, Morrowind. You saw the rancid truth of her and came to your senses before making the fatal mistake of marrying her." He gasps.

"As I explained at the church, she is the one who came to her senses, recognizing the truth of me, and that with me she would never know true happiness. She is all that is pure and good, and deserving of nothing but admiration." I growl at him.

He huffs, "No one believed that poppycock you spouted. Through you she gained everything: prestige, power, wealth. She brought nothing to the marriage."

"She brought herself and that was worth more than anything I had to offer her. But I couldn’t give her the amazing life she so rightly deserves." I say.

"Regardless, I am convinced she is ‘She-wolf’."

"She is not." I fling the man back into the chair with enough force to nearly topple it. However, it does scoot back several inches and Alpha Bremsford clings to its arms as though he is aboard a ship being tossed about by a tempest. "Nor am I Alpha K. Spread rumors to the contrary and I’ll see you destroyed. By the by, if you received an invitation to the Brinsley ball, disregard it; otherwise, my fist will do the welcoming when you arrive."

I spin on my heel. Ignoring all the gentlemen who’ve come to their feet, eyes wide, mouths agape, I storm from the library that had once served as a calming sanctuary and wonder if I’ll ever find enjoyment in this room again.