Chapter 37

W ulfric lay on the soft sheets of the oversized bed and cradled his head with his hands. The deep green of the bedding complimented the gold and red trim, the red damask walls, and ivory furniture. The plush green carpet reminded him of the softest grass. He'd run his toes through it for several minutes when Scarlet had led him up to her room two days ago after the grueling interview with Knox.

The way she'd argued with Knox over him not being allowed upstairs had been adorable, and they'd fucked for hours last night in this enormous bed. More memories of his past had teased him in the early morning light of dawn, and he'd slipped downstairs to shift and run a path along the helrose hedge that encircled the castle.

They'd spent the past two days talking alternately with Knox, Olive, Ashur, and Leopol, who knew a surprising amount of details about the Growlers. They'd worked out the details of the treaty, but Knox kept running upstairs with the latest draft to show to his wife, whom Wulfric still had not met. Yesterday they'd finally settled on a version that suited them all. Tonight, he and Knox would propose the treaty to the Confederation leaders at a fancy dinner tonight. Tomorrow he'd send two Growler messengers with an update.

While waiting for the dinner—and to get Scarlet's mind off of it—they had talked more with Olive, who had tried to get him to call her Grandma. They'd discussed the prophecy and the events surrounding Scarlet's mother's death.

Between remembering her mother's death and the upcoming meeting with the confederation, Scarlet had been on edge all day. He'd tried to distract her with more fucking, but she was still too jittery. He'd woken up from a post-sex nap to find her pacing a path on the floor.

She turned once more in front of the fireplace, and he sighed, "I don't see that we have a choice, bunny."

She waved her arms to the side. "I know, but it's fucked up, and Knox knows it. Neither of them have ever asked me to attend a formal dinner before. There's so many rules and—"

"Etiquette be damned," Wulfric said, sitting up on the bed and swinging his legs to the side. Bare feet sank into the carpet as he walked to her side and took her hands in his.

"We're going to eat some good food and have a nice, long discussion with the Confederation. This is what we need to do to get the treaty approved before it can be presented to the people, remember?"

She looked up at him with those big green and gold doe eyes and frowned. "But—"

He kissed her, sweeping his tongue along the seam of her mouth before hers came out to play. They dueled lazily until he felt her relax in his arms. When he broke the kiss, he gathered her tighter and ran his hands along her back, careful not to stab himself on her horns.

"It's alright, bunny. I'll be right beside you. You don't have to say anything, but if you want to, just whisper it to me, and I'll be your voice, alright?"

She sighed and nodded against his chest. After too few moments, she pulled away and scowled at the clothes the maid had left on the settee.

"I don't know what they were thinking. A fucking dress?"

He chuckled and nuzzled her ear. "Think of it like this, bunny. If we sneak away from dinner as soon as possible, the dress will provide easier access for playing with dessert."

She looked up at him with a sly grin. "Am I dessert, wolfie?"

He wiggled his eyebrows. "You know it, bunny."

She laughed, and it made some of the stress over the night ease. It didn't escape his notice that she'd laughed more while they were here the past two days than in the week prior. It made him want more of that for her.

They helped each other put on the fancy clothes, and he peppered kisses after every item was added and every button slipped into place. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkling when they were finally ready. She'd been very vocal about not wearing the dress and not going to the dinner, but Knox had worn her down on both.

It had been helpful for him to see how her brother handled her. But now that she was in front of him in a dress that draped her body like silk, his mouth went dry and his tongue thickened. She'd adamantly refused to wear a corset, so it was a different style than the servants he'd seen wear. But this dress suited her.

The silk was high necked and laced up the front like her vest. The green silk draped from her hips, making them look fuller. She met his eyes in the mirror and reached for the hem. The movement made her breasts sway, and he suddenly wanted to lick every inch. She bared a leg and slid a dagger into her stocking, tying the garter over it snugly.

"Do you need help with the other one, bunny?" His voice was a deep rumble, and he knelt at her feet.

Her eyes darkened as she licked her lips. He slid his hands up her other leg, the silk catching on his rough skin. He strapped her dagger to her thigh, tying the garter like she'd done with the previous one.

"Th—thanks," she said softly.

He smiled up at her. "Oh, I'm not done yet, bunny. I'll never be done with you."

Then he pushed her skirt into her hand and said, "Hold it tight now."

He felt her suck in a breath as he slid her drawers to the side. He groaned at the sight of dusky pink flesh framed by a riot of flaming curls, and his thumb grazed the nub of her clit. She swayed, then sat heavily on the settee.

He pushed her legs wider and licked up her slit until she bucked, then he swirled his tongue around the center of her pleasure. Her hand cradled the back of his head and pressed him closer, and he slid his thumb inside her dripping pussy.

He continued to tease and stimulate it, circling and tugging until she was panting and grunting with need. Low, guttural moans echoed in the room as she pressed her hips against him in perfect rhythm with his movements.

"Wulfric, please," she begged, pulling him closer. He chuckled in response, sitting up and freeing his throbbing cock from the confines of his pants.

"Again, bunny. Beg for me," he purred as he traced her slit with his dick. She thrust her hips, and he teased her entrance.

"Damn it, Wulfric, if you don't—ah!"

He speared her to the hilt, and he gloried in her eyes rolling. He slid out, and thrust again, going deeper, trying to fill every crack and crevice within her. He was on a mission to imprint himself so deeply into her psyche that she'd crave nothing but him for all time. Every thrust, every moan grew more desperate for them both until he was slamming into her with a fierceness that would make any Growler proud.

Her hands fluttered on his arms then his biceps, her mouth open and panting as she peaked.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck—oh!" Her eyes rolled again, and his own fluttered as she clamped down on his dick like a vise. She cried out as she milked him, her hands shifting into claws and puncturing his shirt. Her eyes glowed golden as she came, and he roared as wave after wave of her orgasm tightened around him.

His balls drew tight, and he felt his knot pressing against her entrance. Just the pressure of her pushing against it sent him over the edge. He groaned and bent over her as he thrust once, twice more. Heat flooded from him into her, filling her as they both spasmed. Time stopped. There was nothing but the rush in his ears of his release and her whimpers.

When the world stopped spinning, he leaned back and brushed the hair from her face, tucking a strand behind her little rabbit's ear. He kissed her nose and she mewled, finally calm and with a smile on her face.

Until the dinner bell echoed through the halls. She tensed, and he groaned.

"Fuck, Scarlet, don't flex or we'll fuck through dinner."

She grinned and squeezed him again. "Now there's the perfect excuse to skip this awful dinner."

He chuckled and pulled out, grabbing a handkerchief and cleaning her until she took it from him. It was one of the many things he loved about her. She wasn't delicate and could take him, rough edges and all. Sometimes she'd let him take care of her, and sometimes she had no patience for him. It was adorable.

Wulfric tucked himself into his pants, his new boots pinching his feet. The need to hold her pressed on him, and he turned to her. "Scarlet—"

A knock interrupted him, and Scarlet fiddled with her hem, shaking the skirt out.

"Come in," she called absently.

A servant came in to style her hair, and Wulfric sighed, turning on his heel and walking to the adjoining sitting room to wait. The way the servant kept looking at him, he knew he made them uncomfortable. They hadn't warmed up a lot, although one of the Growlers had made friends in the kitchen.

Like always, his mind turned to Scarlet. How could he provide for her, convince her to come back to the tribe and live with him for good. They hadn't really discussed it since he'd found her at the cottage, but he knew she was still wary and nervous. He wanted to hold her and make her see that if they were together, it would be alright. Love would see them through a lot.

He loved her. Of course, he fucking loved her. She was his mate. She had to choose him, didn't she?

Although… he'd heard of other mates completing the process and then living separately. Some even claimed to be enemies, which he couldn't imagine. Scarlet was everything.

None of it would matter if he didn't secure this treaty though. If Knox's people approved it, he could build her a home where she'd smile and laugh at the end of a long mission as a Hunter. Maybe he could build all the Growlers homes so they'd be solidified as one people. It was something Knox had said yesterday that had made him think about it.

If they had family left in Busparia, those family members would want homes like those they were used to. They'd not want tents or a nomadic lifestyle. The Growlers were going to have to adapt, but hopefully without losing their lifestyles and traditions. It'd be complicated to navigate, and he hoped Scarlet would help him with it.

Her hand on his back brought him to the present, and he smiled down at her.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly, her hair now braided in tiny braids and piled into some complicated bun between her antlers.

He nodded and winced. "Yes, there's just a lot riding on this treaty. Everyone's counting on me."

Her jaw tilted, and she got that stubborn glint in her eye. "So let's go make it happen." And with that, she spun on her heel—still her normal well-worn but polished boots—and strode to the door, her skirts tangling around her ankles.

She cursed as she stumbled, and he prowled after her. By the time she settled her skirts, he held the door open and offered his arm.

"My lady," he growled with a bow.

She flushed and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. "Don't be ridiculous, Wulfric."

He smiled but didn't reply as they walked slowly down the hallway to the stairs.

They reached the parlor without incident and stopped in the open doorway. A dozen other fancily dressed men and women stood around the room, conversing quietly. Then two of them stepped away from a couch, and his breath caught.

A black-haired beauty with ruby red lips sat with queenly grace, her red and blue dress flattering her curves. Her light blue eyes swung to his, and her jaw dropped. They were almost white, they were so bright. His head flashed, and he reached for his temple.

A disheveled little girl stood in the stables, sniffling as she brushed some lord's horse behind the tavern. The cook had come to fetch him after her bathroom break to say some brat was hiding, and sure enough, here she was.

But as he stepped closer and lifted the lantern, her light blue eyes flashed and the light of the lantern swayed with her magic. She sniffed and frowned, backing into the corner.

"You're not going to make me go back, are you?" Her voice was small, but her diction perfect for an aristocrat.

He sat down the lantern outside the stall and draped his arms over the stall door, crossing at the elbows and leaning his chin on his arms.

"Well, that depends on who you are, what you want, and what you're avoiding."

She sniffed again, hiding behind the mare. He sighed, "Come on then, I don't have all day. Customers are bound to get into a scuffle this time of night. Isn't it past your bedtime, little girl?"

She came around the mare with arms waving, but the horse didn't seem to mind. Light flickered off the ceiling as she spoke. "If my bed was safe, I'd be there, now wouldn't I?"

She burrowed deeper against the stable wall, shadows nearly swallowing her. He wanted to beat up whoever threatened her, but if he did that for every lost soul who came to the tavern, he'd be away from the tavern all day, everyday.

He leaned back and picked up the lantern before opening the stall door just enough for her to come through. "Well then, I guess you'll be staying until it's safe. Come on now. I've got a nice bowl of venison and potatoes inside with fresh bread. Are you hungry?"

Her feet scuffled on the ground, then she came into the light, a brow raised suspiciously. "I—I didn't bring any coin."

He shrugged. "You can work for it."

Her brows rose, and judging by the fine stitching on her dress, it might've been the first time anyone suggested such a thing to her.

"How? I'm not trained for anything."

He shrugged. "You can wipe down the tables when customers leave, maybe help Madge in the kitchen."

She sniffed and took another step forward. "That… that doesn't sound too bad."

He turned and walked slowly out of the stables, hearing the tap of her little steps following behind.

A hand on his sleeve made him blink and look down.

"Wulfric, what is it? You look like you're in pain," Scarlet asked.

Brow furrowed, he glanced back to the black-haired woman who now stood, speaking quietly with Knox. The dragon bent his head to her deferentially then frowned and looked up at Wulfric. He stiffened and faked a smile to those around him before walking with the black-haired woman toward Wulfric and Scarlet.

Someone tried to enter the room behind them, so Scarlet tugged him toward the gigantic windows in the corner. It was quieter and away from the other groups of people, but he felt cornered.

His mind was racing with conflicting emotions as he watched Knox and the woman approach. He wasn't ready to confront his past, but it was about to collide with his present no matter what he wanted. His breath grew shallow, his chest tight.

Knox turned to Scarlet and said, "You look fetching, Red. Who knew you'd wear a dress so well?"

Scarlet punched him on the shoulder, and he laughed as he grabbed her hand. "Come on, sister. Ashur has been asking after you all night. Wulfric, this is my wife, mate, and queen, Eirwyn. Eirwyn, the Growler Alpha."

Scarlet's eyes narrowed. "You've kept Eirwyn resting for days, refusing to even introduce her to Wulfric, but now you're leaving them alone to talk? What's going on?"

Knox tugged her away toward the towering gargoyle across the room, saying, "You're too suspicious, Red."

"Don't call me that."

The look Knox shot him over her shoulder told him to proceed with caution as he distracted her. When Scarlet reached the gargoyle, Knox turned so he could keep watch over his mate, his wife.

Wulfric pulled his gaze away from his own mate to the petite woman in front of him. "You—you've grown up," he said, his voice gravelly.

She smiled, that same mischievous sparkle returning to her eyes. "That's what happens when ten years passes. We thought you were dead, Warren."

Warren. His previous name for a previous life. Such a simple thing to have forgotten, yet it was like a weight lifted from his shoulders. He swallowed hard.

"I'm Wulfric now. Warren is long gone, dead like you said. When I became a Growler, I lost all memories, my… humanity. I've only regained them recently, and some seem to still be missing."

"What's missing?" she asked, head tilting to the side.

He pursed his lips and arched a brow. "If I knew what they were, they wouldn't be missing."

She laughed and the lights near them danced along the wall. It was a familiar sound and sight that reminded him of his former home. His chest tightened.

"Too true." She turned as if pulled by a sixth sense and frowned at Knox. Then she nodded and turned back to him.

"We have little time and this isn't the place to discuss it, but I must know. What do you remember of your daughter?"

He blinked, his head aching as he searched his memories. "She… died in the fever that took my wife."

Eirwyn's eyes saddened as she shook her head. "No, Wulfric. She didn't die. She's still alive. Don't you remember us in the tavern all those years ago? Do you truly not remember?"

He blinked and images swam in his mind, his head pounding with each flash of memory. The funeral pyres. A little hand holding his as they walked through the graveyard. A brown haired girl who frowned too much and worked too hard.

The girl at ten when she'd stopped asking him to lace her shoes. The girl at fourteen when she'd grown too cynical about men. The girl at fifteen when he'd led little Eirwyn into the kitchens of the tavern, and he'd desperately hoped the companionship would help his daughter to open her brittle heart.

It'd helped, for a while. "The six months before I left," he said hoarsely. "You made Trix smile more in those six months than she had in the six years before that."

Eirwyn wiped a tear from her cheek and nodded. "Oh Wulfric, we have so much to talk about, but this isn't the time of the place."

The butler, Hobbs, announced dinner, and Knox led Scarlet back to him. Scarlet frowned and Knox glared at Wulfric for making his wife cry. But his entire world shifted around the idea that he still had a daughter . He still had a daughter.

"She's alive?" His chest ached, and he wanted to roar at all the missed years.

Eirwyn smiled and nodded as Knox led her into dinner. Where was she now? Was she happily married and running the tavern still? Had she found joy and laughter or had his death led her to be even more bitter than she had been growing up?

He needed to make this treaty work even more than before. If his daughter was still in Busparia, he had to get to her, save her. He finally understood the need that drove Brody to attack him.

Scarlet waited with him, smiling and nodding as everyone filed past them.

"Wulfric, what the fuck's wrong?" Scarlet asked when they were alone.

He shook his head and swallowed hard. "I—I'm not sure if anything's wrong exactly. Everything might finally be turning up right. I have to make this treaty work." As if in a daze, he followed, dragging Scarlet by the hand behind him.