Chapter 4

Chapter

Four

I ts new host was proving to be most effective. He was a weak-willed, cowardly beast, but he was a wolf, nonetheless. It now had the benefit of shifting between human and wolf. There had been problems when he'd taken possession of the she-wolf in America, and it had been reticent to try another. When the opportunity to try this weaker version of a wolf-shifter had presented itself, it made the decision to try this more malleable wolf-shifter as a host, consuming the previous host's lifeforce and taking possession of this one.

It enjoyed the ability to hunt and kill as both wolf and human. Striking fear in its victims before killing them was sublime, and it made judicious use of both methods to do so. It was hungry and needed to feed, but it wasn't flesh and drink that it wanted, it was blood—lifeforce. And it always tasted sweeter when tainted with fear.

The host was to have presided over a dinner party this evening. It might have attended if not for the presence of those who might detect it. It was growing stronger every day and had found that coupling with the host's mate, and other females, provided a needed respite as it plotted its revenge against those who had forced it to flee not only from New Orleans, but from America as well.

It would have its vengeance against those in New Orleans who had trapped it centuries ago and had almost seen to its demise. But it had escaped and would strike again.

S imon knew tomorrow night's gala was black tie, and although tonight's wasn't nearly as formal he also knew his mother expected him to dress. Standing inside his closet, he rifled through his tuxedos and smiled as he realized he had more than a few to choose from. In the end he chose a blue linen tux with a tailored silhouette—one button, double vent, shawl collared. He'd pair it with a white shirt and no tie. Once he was dressed, he finished his grooming and made his way down to his Range Rover.

Forty-five minutes later, he found himself following a limousine he knew belonged to the pack. He tried to shake a growing headache and general feeling of discontent, to no avail. Just as he considered turning around and going back home, his cell rang.

Glancing at the caller ID, he decided to answer. "Hello, Mother."

"Simon, darling, do tell me you are on your way."

"I am indeed. In fact, I believe I am following your guests, but if you need me to stop for something, I can."

"Nothing like that. Your father has taken ill and won't be available to act as host. I'm afraid the job has fallen to you."

That was odd. Normally his father enjoyed robust health and rarely failed to show off the pack's wealth and status to members of visiting wolf packs.

"Has the physician looked at him?"

"No. He says its nothing serious. He got rather cranky when I tried to insist, so I let it slide."

Now that was disturbing. Simon doubted there was anyone who didn't already know that even though his father ruled as alpha of the pack, it was his mother who made all the decisions. In D/s terms, she topped from the bottom and her results were less than exemplary. His mother allowed her mate all the perks of his position without any of the responsibilities. When Simon had realized the skewed dynamic in his parents' relationship, he had begun to lose any remaining respect for his sire he might have had.

"Not to worry, Mother. As I said, I'm right behind them. How many of us will there be tonight?"

"It's a small party, only sixteen."

Simon cringed and sighed. For anyone else, a dinner party of sixteen would seem enormous, but not to his mother.

"Who will be attending?"

"Unfortunately, the Halseys will not be in London until tomorrow. Cameron and Riley Nichols, Travis and Skylar Nichols, Lord and Lady Grainger, Josiah and Katarina Steele as well as the ranking members of our pack, and you."

"That's fourteen. Who are the single she-wolves you plan to dangle in front of me?" he said in a benevolent tone.

"Someone has to do something to get you to think about taking a proper mate and settling down. The Nichols' daughter, Piper, will be here as well as the Halsey's daughter, Mariah. I believe she's an artist."

Simon laughed. "You know precisely who Mariah Halsey is. My firm is hosting a gala charity event for that school in the Hebrides; you're on the planning committee for the event. How on earth did some school in the most northwestern part of Scotland ever become your concern?"

"There was a terrible storm with gale-force winds, and parents became unable to reach their children. Some of the teachers were able to pack the youngest students into vehicles and get them to safety. The administrator stayed behind with those they couldn't evacuate and took them up into the hills, to a cave. Their school was all but destroyed. They need our help."

"Yes, Mother, I will be duly impressed with both the tragedy of their story and your commitment to helping them. I would remind you that it isn't only our pack that is helping, but my firm."

"Simon, I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight and tomorrow, and to do our pack proud."

"Mother, might I remind you, I am not your mate. I am an adult alpha wolf and will not have you speaking that way to me in front of our guests."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," she said, backing down. "I'm a little worried about your father and I really do want things to go well tonight."

"You have the best staff in all of Great Britain."

"Yes, and two celebrated chefs are coming to dinner."

"I've met both Riley and her son, Travis. They are lovely, unassuming people." Deciding to play to his mother's vanity and elitist attitude, he continued, "Besides, Riley is Irish and mated to an American cowboy and their son is just a chef with spurs."

His mother wasn't as much of a fool as many thought, and she laughed. "You're a terrible son, but you're mine."

"Thank you. I feel the same way about you Mother. We're turning into the drive, I'll see you in a few minutes."

Simon drove past the limo that had stopped in front of the sweeping entrance to the mansion. Several of the house's staff waited at the bottom of an enormous set of stone steps that led to the entrance of the house to open car doors and welcome the guests. His mother had gone all out. Stopping and parking his Range Rover, he exited the vehicle, waving off staff as he stood to get his bearings.

There it was again, that disoriented feeling. A wave of nausea swept over him, and the scent of peonies filled his nostrils. She was here. His fated mate was among the guests. It had to be either Piper Nichols or Mariah Halsey, as all the others were already in fated pairings. A part of him hoped it was Piper Nichols; he was partial to red hair and the girl was an exceptional rider. But the moment she stepped out of the limo with her dark, tousled, come-fuck-me hair, and wild, corseted and tulle cocktail dress, he had no doubt about with whom his future lay.

Simon looked at his mother's face as she took in Mariah's appearance and stifled a laugh. This was not the mate his mother would have chosen for him. Mariah was tough, independent, outspoken and American. Granted the Hampton's Pack was considered upper class, but he was quite sure, given the she-wolves his mother had dangled before him over the years, she expected him to find a mate amongst some of the more distinguished packs in Europe or the United Kingdom.

A s she took Cameron Nichols' hand and stepped out of the car, she was almost knocked back by a wall of dizziness that threatened to overwhelm her. No, this couldn't be. She did not need this now. She needed to be on top of her game tonight and most especially, tomorrow. What the hell was her fated mate doing in England and who could it be? Maybe it was one of the staff members here and she could persuade him to come to America.

Cameron steadied her. "Are you all right, Mariah?"

Tossing her head back, she pasted on a bright smile. "Fine. Didn't have time to break the new boots in."

She looked across the roof of the limo toward the SUV that had parked in front of them and spotted him immediately. Their eyes locked and she knew who he was. Well, maybe not who he was, but what he was—her fated mate.

He was as tall as Cameron and just as broad. In fact, he was slightly bigger than Cameron. He was a mountain of a man, dressed in an impeccable suit. More noticeable than his size was his presence. It seemed to dwarf everyone around him, especially her. It wasn't that Mariah was small, by any stretch of the imagination, but the guy was huge. He had the well-developed and muscular physique of an alpha and there was an air of danger that surrounded him. He had gorgeous blond hair, perfectly cut and styled. She wouldn't be surprised if he used more hair products than she did. She could easily envision his sculpted pecs and washboard abs. His jacket was cut to emphasize his broad shoulders and the lines of his torso tapered to a trim waist set atop strong, muscular legs. He hadn't bought that suit off the rack; it had been custom made for him.

No. She needed to shut this shit down right now. She would not give in to the weird, twisted gut feeling of something or someone squeezing her internal organs. She was not having it. Maybe she'd be lucky, and he didn't feel it too. But nope. A slow, easy grin that bordered on feral split the features of his face, transforming into recognition. Laugh lines crinkled around his eyes and she noticed the most adorable dimples appear on his stubbled cheeks. What the fuck was up with that? Alpha wolves did not have dimples.

No one else could hear the soft, rumbling alpha wave that washed over her. She could hear it and she could for damn sure feel it. Try as she might, she couldn't repress the shiver of desire that accompanied his call. Taking a deep breath, she drew on her strength with every fiber of her being and tried to look away. She was going to need to show him from the get-go that she was not for the taking or the claiming.

Mariah was determined not to end up in his bed. She would not offer him her throat; would not succumb to his call. Well on second thought, maybe they could fuck. God knows her body had come alive at the prospect. She was grateful for the tight lacing of her corset and how its construction kept her stiffened nipples from being seen through the fabric. It was also a plus that he couldn't see her pussy softening and readying itself for him.

Mariah had never had this visceral a reaction to any male before—human or wolf. She had found subspace with the right Doms a few times, and usually orgasmed easily. But she feared all this wolf had to do was beckon her to his side, and she would become a puddle of need and desire. She refused to close her eyes, because she knew if she did, her mind would fill with the images of him naked, commanding and dominating her as he made her bend to his will and forced her vows and her capitulation to him.

No. Not happening. She didn't want or need this. Liar, whispered her entire being. Ok, maybe fucking him wouldn't be such a bad idea. He was rather sexy—with his alpha physique and deep voice with the British accent. She'd bet every sculpture she'd ever made that he was hung and knew how to use what he had. Maybe, just maybe, she could fuck him and still manage to elude his grasp. Internally, she rolled her eyes. She knew all too well that hadn't worked for any she-wolf of her acquaintance who had experienced the call of her fated mate.

But if—and it was a big if—she ended up in bed with him, she would control the encounter. She would revel in his embrace, maybe even let him knot her just to see what all the fuss was about, but the moment the tie dissolved, and his cock slipped from her body, she'd hit him over the head with something heavy and be on her way. Yeah, that could work. She could take what she needed and wanted from him and then leave.

She didn't know who he was, but it didn't matter. She would show him Roz Halsey's daughter was a force to be reckoned with. Yeah, she'd show him. She was in control.

When he spoke, it startled the shit out of her. Somehow she'd failed to notice he had been moving toward her. As her eyes focused, she realized who he was. Her fated mate was Simon freaking Howard, the heir to the London pack.

"Hello, Mariah. I can't believe we haven't met before now, but then I understand your mother eluded your father for years. Rest assured, my sweet mate, you will not be allowed to repeat that mistake."