Princess of Wolves: A Reverse Harem Romance Read online

  Princess of Wolves

  A Reverse Harem Romance

  Bree Starling

  Contents

  Prologue: The Ritual

  1. Jasper

  2. Allie

  3. Beau

  4. Allie

  5. Allie

  6. Allie

  7. Jasper

  8. Allie

  9. Mal

  10. Allie

  11. Allie

  12. Allie

  13. Beau

  14. Jasper

  15. Allie

  16. Allie

  17. Allie

  18. Mal

  19. Allie

  20. Allie

  21. Allie

  22. Beau

  23. Allie

  24. Allie

  25. Allie

  26. Allie

  27. Allie

  Thank you!

  Copyright © 2018 Bree Starling

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Prologue: The Ritual

  The moon was a half-crescent overhead, and growing bigger every night, as the women made their way to the grove.

  There were ten of them, and they walked single file, all clad in simple white dresses that seemed to glow in the silvery moonlight. Bare feet crunched softly over fallen leaves on the forest floor. An owl called mournfully somewhere off in the forest, then fell silent.

  An older woman led the procession. Her long braid of hair was as white as her clothing, but she walked with the strength and grace of one much younger. In one hand, she held a circlet made of woven magnolia leaves and flowers. In the other, a deep blue velvet bag of something that clicked and rattled softly as she moved. Her pace was slow and dignified as she led the women to the circle of magnolia trees in the center of the forest clearing.

  The rest of the women followed silently behind her as they entered the grove. There were mothers and daughters and young women in their prime. One was heavily pregnant, the swell of her belly telling of the promise of new life.

  A simple stone altar waited in the center of the grove. The white-haired woman approached and carefully placed the flower circlet on the surface and the bag in the center of the circlet. As if by some silent signal, the women moved to surround her, their circle echoing the ring of trees around them.

  The woman at the altar began to hum and sway, lifting her hands to the star-filled skies. Her song was taken up by the others, and the women joined hands, faces tipped up to the moon. It was an old song, and sacred, and secret.

  The bag on the altar began to glow, faintly at first, then stronger. The silvery light echoed the light of the moon overhead. The women fell silent as the song ended, and the white-haired woman reached into the bag.

  The whole world seemed to hold its breath as she pulled out a small white stone. She lifted it to the moon’s light, examining the strange markings carved into the rock. After a long silence, she spoke. “Our new queen is…” she began, but then paused, and frowned.

  The other women glanced at each other, confusion and worry showing on every face. There was a long silence that nobody seemed willing to break.

  Finally, a striking woman with a cascade of blonde hair cleared her throat. “Priestess,” she said softly, “Who will be our Queen? Who has the Goddess chosen?”

  The white-haired woman shook her head and grinned as she held out the stone for the rest of the women to see. “Alyssa.”

  There was one more second of quiet as the women in the circle glanced at each other, not understanding. And then the once-silent forest echoed with howls of shock and anger that sent every bird within two miles flying for cover.

  1

  Jasper

  The human city stank.

  As we walked down the sidewalk, I could feel the fumes with every breath, stinging my nose, burning their way into my lungs. Car exhaust, food aromas, and the overwhelming scent of humans crowded my sensitive nose.

  The moon and stars overhead would have been comforting, but the bright human-made lights that blazed from every building made them almost invisible. Their loss gave me an uneasy feeling, like we had been abandoned here. How had she stood it for so long?

  As if he could read my mind, Beau grinned over at me. “Not a fan of the city, boss?”

  “What’s to like?” I answered curtly. As one who relied on their sense of smell as much as their eyes, I felt half-blind in this mass of concrete and metal.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” drawled Mal, his eyes lingering on the long legs of a passing woman in a short skirt. “I think there are a few things interesting about this place.”

  I resisted the urge to snap at them both, but I wouldn’t be able to for much longer. “In case you two have forgotten, this is not a pleasure trip. We are here for a reason.”

  “How could we forget?” Mal tore his gaze away from the female human and grinned over at me. “It’s all you’ve talked about the whole way up here.”

  Beau shoved Mal’s shoulder. “That’s why Jasper is in charge. He pays attention to stuff. Unlike some wolves I could name.”

  “Quiet, both of you,” I said. Goddess, it was like wrangling two pups just out of the nursery. These two would not be the companions I would have picked for myself in this mission. Beau is too damn friendly and Mal is too damn horny. But no matter their shortcomings, they’re Pack members, and unfortunately for me, their presence on this little mission is required. And so I’m dealing with them as best I can. “Beau, where is the bar?”

  The younger wolf reached in his pocket and pulled out a worn paper map, which drew some amused looks from humans passing by. We all ignored them, leaning over to examine the tangle of lines. After a moment, Beau poked the map triumphantly. “There we are. Which means the bar is a few streets up,” he answered, pointing the way.

  I set off in the direction he pointed, the other two trailing behind me like obedient shadows. The towering glass skyscrapers made a canyon of the street, forcing the people below into orderly lines. I hated it already, this trapped feeling. I wondered again how Alyssa had stood it for so long.

  Then again, she was only half wolf. Maybe the human side of her made it possible for her to tolerate it. Maybe she even liked it. The thought made me shake my head in disgust.

  I hoped she wouldn’t give us any trouble. After all, it wasn’t like we were asking her to return permanently. She only had to play her part in the ritual and then she could return to this stinking city as she liked.

  And we, the Pack, would remain in our home and try to make the best of the future to come. But I knew we would survive. Our strength was in our numbers and our bond.

  Or at least, I hoped so.

  “It’s there,” Beau said from behind me, interrupting my thoughts. “Jake’s Bar.”

  Stupid name. I always knew humans had no imagination. The bar was a small place, crammed between a sandwich shop and a lawyer’s office. The large windows at the front gave a view to the inside, and I stared in silent confusion at the variety of stuffed fish mounted on the walls. What did fish have to do with anything? Maybe it encouraged humans to drink like one. Figures moved around inside. “Beau, you knew her best. Do you see her?”

 
Beau obediently looked across the street, his eyes darting as he gazed through the big front windows. I couldn’t help but notice how eagerly he leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of her. I wondered if he knew how obvious it was.

  I had heard he’d liked Alyssa when they were kids. She and Beau used to hang out, one of the few wolves who would be seen with her. That childhood silliness was the reason he’d been chosen for the mission, in the hopes that she would be more likely to trust him.

  Mal, on the other hand, had volunteered. When I asked him why, he’d just shrugged and said he’d wanted a little change of scenery. He wore the same irritating smile that was his default expression, like the world was a big joke. But nobody else had stepped up, so he got his wish.

  “There,” Beau said, his voice betraying his excitement. “That’s her, talking to the older lady.”

  As the son of the Pack’s First Guardian, I had been in rigorous training for most of my youth, which left little time for messing around or socializing. She had run away by the time I returned to the Pack, so I vaguely remembered Alyssa as a short scrawny kid with a tangled tumbleweed of dark curly hair.

  The woman who stood in profile behind the bar still had the dark curls, but they fell in soft waves over her shoulders. She was short but had good posture, with generous curves that softened the lines of her body. She was smiling as she talked, but I noticed there was a certain wariness to the way she held herself. An instinctive need to be on alert. Fight or flight. Was she expecting us? Had someone else contacted her?

  “Damn, she got a booty,” Mal said, raising an eyebrow appreciatively.

  Beau shot him a warning look. “Why are you always such a pervert?”

  “Tell me I’m wrong,” Mal said, smirking at him.

  “You don’t have to say it that way.”

  Mal made a big show of pretending to think, then broke into a grin. “My word,” he piped in a terrible fake British accent, “that lovely female has quite the ample posterior!”

  “Enough,” I snapped, ignoring the snickers from the two of them.

  “Goddess, it was just a joke,” Mal drawled. “Speaking of butts, who put the stick up yours, Jasper?”

  “You agreed to follow orders when you volunteered for this,” I reminded him icily. “This is important. We need to convince her to come back with us to preserve the future of our Pack and you two goofing around makes me think you’re not taking this seriously.”

  “We are,” Beau said. “It’s just…”

  “You’re too serious,” Mal chimed in.

  My anger flared like a struck match. “I’m the one entrusted with the safety of this Pack,” I snapped. “That includes the two of you, myself, and her, as well as everyone back home. You think that’s an easy job?”

  Beau rubbed his chin and looked away guiltily. Mal looked at me, but his mocking smile faded. “Sorry. So. What are we doing?”

  I forced myself to take a deep breath. Three Alphas in close proximity had made this a long journey, and I was feeling the strain. The sooner we got Alyssa, the sooner we could leave. “We wait until she comes out,” I said. “And then we explain to her what she must do.”

  Beau glanced back at me. “And if she doesn’t agree?”

  I gazed across the street, watching Alyssa laugh at something the old woman said. “Then we make her see reason.”

  2

  Allie

  All my life, I’d wanted to help people. To do good things for my community, to listen to people’s problems. To change lives for the better.

  And this is where those dreams had gotten me: I was currently mopping up a puddle of spilled beer while listening to Dorothy complain about her arthritis and her useless ex-husband for the 80th time that week.

  Yup. I was helpful, all right.

  “And that’s another thing,” Dorothy went on as I dunked the mop in the bucket. “You need a man, Alyssa, and you need one bad.”

  “Oh yeah? And why is that?” I asked, humoring her. It wasn’t the first time she’d gone on this particular tangent, but it was always entertaining when she did.

  Despite her complete lack of filter, and despite my best efforts not to like anyone, I found Dorothy strangely endearing. She was, as she informed me once, “old enough to not give a fuck about anything” and it showed, from her tomato-red permed hair to her outlandish collection of costume jewelry.

  She sized me up over the rim of her martini glass, then shook her head. The fake diamond rings piled on her gnarled fingers twinkled as she sipped her drink. “You don’t let people in, child, and you can’t go your whole life alone.”

  I made a show of glancing around the crowded bar, and she rolled her eyes and pinched my shoulder. “None of your sass, missy. You know very well what I mean. You’re a pretty girl, but you hold people at arm’s length. Now, why is that?”

  “I… grew up in a close family. Too close,” I added, with a half-smile. “And now I just like my space.” It was the truth, in a way. However, I was disturbed at how accurately she’d summed up my life. Then again, if she knew what I really was, she might not be so quick to urge me to date more. “You want another one?” I asked, hoping to distract her.

  She regally swirled the last of her martini in her glass and nodded. “Thank you, sweet pea.”

  I wheeled the mop bucket back around the bar, washed my hands, and grabbed the shaker. Something felt off this evening, and I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. But my instinct told me to pay attention. As I scooped the ice, I glanced around.

  There were bars in the city that were sleek and modern, with tasteful, inventive cocktails and waitresses that could be supermodels. They were places to see and be seen, to socialize with the best of society.

  Jake’s Bar was none of those things.

  The old building had always put me in mind of a broken-down pirate ship: the ceiling, walls and creaky floors were all dark wood, grown darker with layers of spilled beer and old cigarette smoke. Stained-glass lanterns turned the light into a dim amber glow. Taxidermied fish adorned every available inch of the walls, despite the fact that we were hundreds of miles from any lake or sea. The biggest was the striped swordfish hanging over the bar. It stared down at me, its bright blue glass eye perpetually wide with surprise, as I shook up Dorothy’s martini.

  The clientele that evening was the usual mix of regulars. Older people frequented Jake’s, although lately, we did see the occasional group of hipsters in search of an “authentic” bar. Whatever the hell that meant. The drinks were strong, the music was loud, and the people all seemed to know each other. I could see how that could be appealing, having friends.

  A man at the end of the bar noticed me looking and leered when I caught his eye, his smile like a yellow picket fence in his scraggly white beard. He nudged his companion, and the other man made a show of looking me up and down before he winked. I ignored them, hoping they would take the hint.

  When I slid Dorothy’s martini across the bar to her, she toasted me in thanks.

  The bells on the front door clanked as it opened, and I smiled to see my roommate Sarah enter. She practically bounced across the room when she caught sight of who I was talking to.

  “Dorothy!” she squealed, giving the old lady an extravagant hug.

  Dorothy beamed and patted the barstool next to her. “My sweet Sarah! You help me tell Allie that she needs to be dating.”

  “Oh, I’ve tried,” Sarah said, smiling sweetly at me as I narrowed my eyes at her. “She wouldn’t come with me to a party tonight.”

  “I’m working!”

  She giggled, leaning over to Dorothy in a fake conspiratorial tone. “Allie’s a stubborn one. But that’s why we love her.”

  “I’m stubborn! Look who’s talking,” I shot back, but I couldn’t help but grin. I had needed a roommate when I first moved to the city, someone to share expenses and some space. I had found Sarah’s ad for a two-bedroom rental, and I’d taken it, wanting a cheap place to stay and nothing more
.

  But Sarah had ignored my silences and attempts to be alone and wormed her way into my heart, and despite my best efforts to keep her away had somehow become my friend. My best friend, and really, my only friend.

  Of course, if Sarah knew who I really was she might change her mind. And despite my attempts at not getting attached to anyone or anything, a tiny little selfish part of me has come to rely on her love and support. So I keep quiet and feel guilty but try and open up to her as much as I can, which is not much. But I do try.

  “There’s got to be some young men you know,” Dorothy was saying to Sarah. “Hell, if I was as pretty as you two when I was your age I would have been knee-deep in men!” She cackled and took a sip of her martini.

  “I’m taking a break from men after my last boyfriend fiasco,” Sarah said, shaking her head. “But I agree with Dorothy, Allie. You say you don’t have time for dating, but you sit around and read all weekend instead!”

  “I am not having this conversation,” I said calmly, placing a glass of her favorite wine in front of her.

  The truth was, I was pathetically, horrifically lonely. Even thinking it made me cringe a little bit. Sarah was relentlessly cheerful as she invited me out to parties and bar nights and brunches, but I had to turn her down. Reading seemed safer than trying to meet people, and escaping into a book let me pretend to be someone else for a little while.

  “Hey, sweet cheeks!” the bearded man bellowed from the other end of the bar. “Get that fine ass over here. I wanna beer. And a kiss.” He flashed his yellow-picket-fence smile at me, and I felt my stomach turn over in revulsion.

  Sarah rolled her eyes and Dorothy scowled, but I waved a hand. “I’ll handle them. I do this all the time.” I said it mostly to reassure them, but I couldn’t wave away my own anxiety. I hated doing things like this.

  When I approached the end of the bar where they sat, I could feel their eyes crawling over me like insects. “Bar’s about to close,” I said, crossing my arms. “No more service tonight. You need to cash out and go home.”