Wolf Leader: A Shifter Romance (Arctic Brotherhood, Book 6) Page 3

  This was one time when Vigo knew he and his friends were going to feel differently. He was the only member of the team who didn’t have a mate. He couldn’t share their feelings and they couldn’t appreciate his. No matter how much he wanted the brotherhood to continue in its current form, he had to accept that he was the only one out of the seven who was likely to feel that way. His friends had other priorities. The brotherhood was still an important part of their lives, but it didn’t come first with them anymore.

  “We discussed different options, including scaling back, or even disbanding the brotherhood,” Angrboda said. “But Gunnar and I both felt we would lose something unique and powerful with either of those options. The final decision must be yours, of course, but we considered an alternative. For centuries, the brotherhood had one leader. Gunnar was in command on every mission. When he left, things changed. From then on, a different person took charge each time. That has worked well . . . up to a point. The demands on each of you have been intense. A change of leader each time has enabled you to share the pressure. But maybe it’s time for a return to the old system.”

  “Are you offering to come back and take charge?” Samson raised his beer bottle in a salute to Gunnar.

  Gunnar raised his prosthetic arm with a rueful smile. “I am no longer one of the seven strongest and bravest. But one suggestion would be to have a permanent leader, someone who will make all the decisions, including the composition of the brotherhood. If Fenrir is defeated, the future will look very different. We may face another four hundred years with no action. The new leader would be responsible for deciding whether seven was the right number and whether every mission needed all of you.”

  “And how would you select this leader?” Lowell asked.

  Angrboda shook her head. “That choice would be yours.”

  Vigo broke the silence that descended. “So, from now on, we are competing with each other to see who takes over?”

  There didn’t seem to be anything to say in answer to those words, but the mood was clear. No one wanted to compete for the leadership of the brotherhood. They were friends and equals.

  “We have never been rivals.” Vigo took the decision to continue and speak for all of them. “That’s what makes the brotherhood unique.”

  “I’m not sure my proposal sounded quite the way I wanted it to.” Angrboda’s expression was apologetic. “I wasn’t suggesting that you fight among yourselves to decide who should be the new leader. I believe the outcome will be decided naturally.”

  “Perhaps once Fenrir is defeated it will be obvious who should be in charge?” Gunnar suggested. “In the meantime, we should focus on replacing Jenny, who has indicated she wishes to step down permanently, and Sebastian, who needs more time to recover from the injuries Fenrir inflicted on him.”

  Vigo frowned. “Cindy replaced Jenny on our last mission, and she did a great job.” Why did they need someone else?

  Cindy smiled at him. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, but I never expected to be a permanent part of the team.”

  “Without Cindy you wouldn’t have been able to defeat Chastel.” Gunnar’s voice was grim. “That’s why it’s so important to get this right. But Cindy is correct. She was brought in as a last-minute replacement. And she can never become a permanent member of the brotherhood because she isn’t an alpha. She wasn’t born a shifter. She became a werewolf when she accepted Sebastian’s bite. That means she can never be an alpha werewolf. The brotherhood creed is clear. Always seven and only seven. The bravest and strongest alpha Arctic werewolves.”

  Angrboda placed her hand over Cindy’s. “Nevertheless, we owe you a great debt, one that will never be forgotten.”

  “I have a confession to make”—Cindy blushed as she took Sebastian’s hand—“although I was happy to help all of you, by far the biggest part of my motivation in joining you on your last mission was to make sure Sebastian was safe.”

  Although Vigo was pleased that they were happy together—and he was pleased that Cindy’s intervention had saved Sebastian’s life—he felt a sudden ache of loneliness. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He had never envied those of his friends who had found their mates. It would be a futile emotion. Since he had nothing to offer a partner, he knew he would never experience that happiness. Inflicting his past, his damage, himself, on another person . . . that wouldn’t be happening.

  He’d been resigned to that, so why should it bother him now? He knew why, of course. It was a result of that crazy rush of emotion he had experienced out at the airfield. No matter how hard he tried to push it aside, that excitement was still there, powering through his bloodstream. Although its source wasn’t close, he could still feel her. Scent her. Taste her. The only thing he couldn’t do was touch her. Unfulfilled desire was an ache that was driving him crazy. It was like in the bad old days when he had craved sex like a drug. But this was different. Back then any willing body would do. Now, he needed her. And he didn’t even know who she was.

  With an effort, he forced his mind back on the conversation.

  “Identifying Jenny’s replacement isn’t a problem. I have always known who the strongest and bravest Arctic werewolves are. It’s part of my remit,” Gunnar said.

  “You make it sound like there may be another problem.” Vigo sensed something in the other man’s tone.

  “Approaching a new recruit with the details of the brotherhood can provoke mixed reactions.” Gunnar smiled as he looked at them in turn. “Think back to when I first spoke to each of you. Samson threatened to punch me if I didn’t stop following him around and talking crazy. Madden thought I was a drunk and offered to let me sleep it off in a cell. Wilder tried to avoid me for a month . . .”

  “I wanted to interview you for an article I was writing about delusional disorders,” Sebastian laughed. “I still think it would have been a great piece.”

  “Vigo couldn’t believe I wanted him to be part of this elite team. Lowell, who was the only one among you who had actually heard of the brotherhood, wanted details of the fine print. I think the only person who took me seriously, and was excited at the prospect of joining the team, was Jenny.”

  “But I’d already seen Wilder in action. I’d seen TV footage of him shifting and fighting Santin,” Jenny reminded him. “I knew what I was letting myself in for.”

  “Do you suspect there may be a problem with our latest recruit?” Vigo asked.

  “I’m almost certain there will.” Gunnar became serious again. “One thing in our favor is that she is here in Svalbard. Her name is Amber Merova, and she is an engineer working for a satellite company in Longyearbyen.” He sighed. “She is going to be difficult as all hell.”

  “Can’t you bypass her and go to the next strongest and bravest person?” The question revealed Cindy’s lack of familiarity with the finer detail of the brotherhood.

  “It doesn’t quite work that way.” Gunnar’s voice was almost regretful. “If it did, my life might have been easier over the years. No, the creed is clear. The brotherhood must always be made up of the seven bravest and strongest.”

  “What makes you think it’ll be tough to persuade her to join us?” Vigo asked.

  “Just a hunch.” There was something in Gunnar’s voice that intrigued him. “I suspect Amber Merova may prove more difficult than any of you.”

  “How will you approach her?”

  Gunnar shifted position so he was fully facing Vigo. “I wasn’t planning to approach her at all. I was hoping you would do it.”

  Okay. That was unexpected. “Why? I mean, why me?” Vigo was still conscious of his status as the new recruit. His colleagues had centuries of experience in comparison to his five years. Surely one of them was better qualified to do this?

  “Because Angrboda and I think you should lead the next mission. You haven’t had a chance to show what you can do as a leader. If a decision is to be made about who will take charge in the future, it’s only fair that you get that opportunity.
”

  Vigo started to laugh, breaking off when he realized Gunnar was serious. When Gunnar and Angrboda spoke of deciding on a leader among themselves, he hadn’t believed he would be included in that process. Not when he considered the experience and skill of the others. It would be crazy to even think of it. And, although Vigo may have come close to crazy once or twice, he wasn’t there now. At least, he didn’t think he was . . .

  He shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t want to lead the brotherhood.”

  He could tell from Gunnar’s expression that the other man was genuinely shocked. “Can I ask why?”

  Vigo gestured around the table. “Look at what you have here. The centuries of experience and knowledge. Why would you bypass that for an unknown?” He took a long swallow from his bottle of water. “I appreciate what you are trying to do, but don’t sacrifice the success of the next mission for the sake of inclusivity.”

  Gunnar raised his brows. “Is that what the rest of you think? That I’m offering Vigo the chance to lead a mission as an equal-opportunity exercise?”

  Samson’s hand on Vigo’s shoulder almost pounded him into the table top. “You are as capable as anyone here. Gunnar wouldn’t jeopardize the fight against Fenrir by putting you in charge.”

  Wilder nodded. “Every one of us would trust you with our lives.”

  Vigo felt his throat tighten with an emotion he couldn’t name. He had been cast out from his werewolf pack when he was little more than a cub. The powers that made him a great healer had made his alpha suspicious. He had been different—not a trait that was encouraged in a wolf pack—labeled a troublemaker, and eventually banished. Forced to fend for himself, Vigo had never known comradeship until he joined the brotherhood. He supposed this feeling he was experiencing was the love human families shared.

  “Is this your way of making sure I’m the one who deals with the difficult new recruit?” His voice was slightly husky.

  There was a ripple of laughter. Samson raised his beer bottle. “You are the only nondrinker among us, Vigo”—the fact that he steered clear of alcohol was something his friends accepted and never questioned him about—“but from what Gunnar has been saying, that could all change once you meet Amber.”

  Chapter Three

  Amber had just finished eating dinner when someone knocked on the door. The sound made her freeze. She had lived in this cabin, the farthest from the gates of the compound where she worked, for three years. During that time, there had been four knocks on her door. The first had been on the day she moved in. The concierge had stopped by to check everything was okay. It was part of his job, he had explained, to check that new Norway Tech employees were happy with their accommodation. Amber had assured him that everything was fine. She hadn’t exactly held the door open as she spoke, but the effect had been the same. He hadn’t lingered.

  Six months later there had been a second knock. One of her colleagues had called with an invitation to the Christmas party. Amber hadn’t invited him inside, and the door had barely closed in his face before the invitation found its way into the trash.

  Knock number three had been when she was called out in the middle of the night to take an employee to Norway for emergency medical treatment. The fourth time had been someone calling at the wrong cabin by mistake. Everybody knew by then that Amber did her job, but she didn’t socialize.

  She muttered a curse, casting a quick look around. Because she had grown used to being left alone, she had gotten lazy. One glance would tell a visitor that there was something strange about this cabin and about Amber herself. Despite the freezing temperatures, there was no source of heat in the tiny building and she wore only shorts and a flimsy tank top. Her feet were bare and the thick mass of her hair was piled in a loose knot on top of her head. If anything, she was still a little warm. She had been planning on shifting and going for a run in the snow by the light of the midnight sun.

  There was another series of knocks, longer and louder this time. Amber frowned, her annoyance ratcheting up a notch. Knocking was one thing. Insistence was quite another. The person on the other side of that door clearly didn’t know what they were dealing with.

  Maybe she should just ignore it. Whoever it was would go away eventually. But what if someone else had been taken ill, or was injured, and she was needed to fly them to Norway to a hospital? She couldn’t have that on her conscience.

  Sighing, she went to the door. She had only opened it a fraction when it hit her. It was the same rush of sensation that had powered through her out at the airfield, but it was even more concentrated now. Because he was up close. The man called Vigo was on her doorstep. Rival cravings went to war within her. Reason told her to slam the door in his face. Impulse made her want to grab him by the front of his sweatshirt and drag him over the doorstep.

  “Yes?” Amber crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at him. It was her tried-and-trusted defensive stance. On this occasion, she used it more in an attempt to steady her nerves than to intimidate him.

  She guessed there wasn’t much that intimidated Vigo. Leaning his forearm against the door frame, he smiled down at her. That smile should come with its own health warning. And there, right away . . . see what he’s doing to me? I don’t think that way. Smiles and health warnings? It’s not me. It was too fluffy and romantic. His nearness had tilted her off balance, scaring and exciting her at the same time.

  “Can I come in?”

  “No.” She moved to close the door, but Vigo placed his palm against it, preventing her.

  “I was warned you’d probably say that.” Ignoring her outraged protest, he stepped over the threshold. Closing the door behind him, he walked fully into the cabin, dominating it with his size and presence.

  The competing impulses to punch him and kiss him were overwhelming. Amber went with what she knew. Her fist came up quick and hard, aiming for his throat. “Get the fuck out of my home.”

  She had never seen anyone move so fast. He caught her wrist before she even saw his hand reach out. The subdued strength in his hold took her breath away. “Give me two minutes.”

  She didn’t like the assurance in his tone. Didn’t like anything about this situation. Didn’t like his touch because of the firecracker of sensation it provoked along her nerve endings. Loved his touch because it made her come alive in a way she had never imagined possible. Everything she knew was slipping away and she was struggling desperately to hold on to it.

  She took a moment to breathe as she studied his near-perfect aristocratic features and Nordic coloring. The harsh planes of his cheekbones, narrow blade of his nose, and strong jaw could have been carved from granite. In contrast, the sensual fullness of his lips drew her eyes and made her wonder how they might feel against her own.

  Vigo hadn’t bothered to pretend. He wasn’t wearing protective outdoor clothing. Instead, he was dressed casually in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. These items did nothing to disguise the perfection of his body. Broad shoulders, bulging biceps, with a narrow waist, powerful thighs and a taut, delicious ass made her want to moan at the total unfairness of the situation. Just how messed up could her life get? Wasn’t it bad enough that she had to spend her whole time hiding and looking over her shoulder? Now, just to add to her torment, she was being offered a mate? And not just any mate . . . Oh, no, I get to turn down this eye-popping, mouthwatering vision of masculinity.

  “I don’t have to give you anything.” Even to her own ears it sounded like the final bluster before surrender.

  Vigo seemed to be fighting his own internal battle as he returned her gaze. When he pulled her closer, his voice was harsh. “We both know that’s not true. We both know you have to give me everything.”

  His lips came down hard on hers. Warm and soft, they sent out a message that couldn’t be ignored. It was a statement of ownership as well as passion. It happened so quickly, and powerfully, that her body responded with total surrender. Her mouth yielded to his, opening as he pushed his tong
ue in deep. It was an intimate exchange between two people who had just met, yet his mouth felt so right on hers. He moved in closer, pressing her up against the wall, using his body to hold her in place.

  Arousal spiked inside her as the kiss grew wilder and more possessive. Rational thought deserted her as Amber was transformed into a tingling mass of nerve endings. The only thing that existed in that moment was the length of their bodies touching, their mouths melded together, their hearts beating in perfect time.

  When Vigo pulled away, he held her in the moment, resting his forehead against hers as he drew in a ragged breath. She sensed his reluctance as he moved slowly away. His gaze stayed on her as he waited for her to stand straighter.

  “What the hell was that?” Belligerence seemed to be the best way to deal with the storm of emotions coursing through her.

  “From where I was standing it felt like a kiss.” He shouldn’t be allowed to smile like that. It made her heart flip in a most unsettling way. “Now, do I get my two minutes?”

  “I’m timing you.” She didn’t like this new husky note in her voice.

  Vigo tossed her a sympathetic smile as though he understood her predicament. He took a seat on the sofa next to the unused fireplace. Amber moved to a chair as far away from him as possible. It made no difference. He was as potent as a drug.

  “Have you heard of the Brotherhood of the Midnight Sun?” When she shook her head, he continued, “It is an elite force of the strongest and bravest Arctic werewolves. We protect the werewolf world—and sometimes the human world—from evil. The brotherhood is made up of seven alpha wolves, always seven and only seven.”

  “And you are telling me this because . . . ?”

  “One of our members is leaving, and we need a seventh member.” There was that smile again. “You’re it, Amber. Welcome to the brotherhood.”