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  Lowell smiled and Odessa’s eyes were drawn to his mouth. Memories of those lips on hers, those teeth nipping at the most sensitive areas of her body, that tongue penetrating every part of her, drove all rational thought out of her head. Instantly, she was wet and aching for him. And he knew it, damn him.

  Leaning closer, he murmured softly in her ear. “I know what you are thinking. You don’t need to say it out loud. I can see it in your eyes. I can scent your arousal on you, Odessa. You’re thinking how much you want me inside you again.”

  She gave a soft moan, unable to deny it. It didn’t matter what she did. He could strip away her sophisticated human façade with a look. His proximity reduced her to a quivering mass of need. Pretense wasn’t an option. Lifting her eyes to his, she gave in to the longing that was sweeping through her. “When?” The single word sounded a lot like a plea.

  Lowell’s expression changed instantly. The hunger lurking just below the surface became fierce ownership. “As soon as we get to the hotel. I will make you beg me to fuck you.”

  The promise in his voice made her bite her lip. She gave a shaky laugh. “Are you this demanding with all your partners?” Even as she said the words, she decided she didn’t like the thought of him with other partners. Then she didn’t like the idea that she might be getting possessive about him . . . Oh, God, what the hell is happening to me?

  “Just you.” Those words and the look in his eyes should have scared her. Should have had her seeking out a flight attendant and begging them to barricade her into a place of safety. Instead, they made her hotter than ever.

  “Perhaps it’s just as well we couldn’t get a connecting flight to Yakutsk until tomorrow.” Yakutsk was the capital of the Sakha Republic, the vast Siberian territory Santin had called home.

  “Tell me about your headquarters. You must have figured out by now I’m not an Arctic spy. I don’t want to be on this flight any more than you want me here.”

  Odessa took a moment to adjust to the change from raw heat to cool efficiency. No one could accuse Lowell of being boring. Unpredictable and maddening, yes. Boring, no. She seriously doubted there was anything to lose by giving him the information he wanted. If the famed Brotherhood of the Midnight Sun was all it was reported to be, he could find out everything he needed without her help. A thought flitted across her mind. If the goal of the brotherhood really was the destruction of the Siberians, why didn’t Lowell already know this?

  “The Siberian packs are spread throughout the region, but my father made his home just south of Yakutsk, in the forest of the Olyokminsky District.”

  Lowell leaned back in his seat, stretching his long legs. “The Siberians are unique among werewolf society. They are the only species with one overall leader.”

  “Doesn’t every werewolf species have the same structure?” Odessa felt slightly ashamed at confessing to the gaps in her education.

  “Most mirror wolf society and are made up of packs. Those packs have their own hierarchy and rules with an alpha male and female who are responsible for maintaining order and cohesion. Below them are the betas, followed by mid-ranking wolves, and finally the omegas. But, unlike the Siberians, it’s rare to find a species where there is an overall ruler of all those packs. Someone who is in charge above all the alphas.”

  “That’s not the case in your Arctic species?” As Odessa asked the question, she wondered about the breed that spent their lives craving the strange glow of the midnight sun. He was her enemy, yet this man beside her fascinated her. “This brotherhood of yours doesn’t impose rules upon the Arctic packs?” She thought back to what her mother had told her about the evil group of werewolves who destroyed everything in their path. She couldn’t reconcile Lowell with that image.

  Lowell quirked a brow at her. “Someone has been telling you some very strange stories about us, Odessa. The brotherhood are peacekeepers and we answer to the goddess Angrboda . . . your own grandmother. Most werewolf species do a good job of policing themselves, but Angrboda set up the Brotherhood of the Midnight Sun many centuries ago when that wasn’t happening. There was one werewolf who was out of control and the goddess needed help to control him.”

  Even though she was fairly sure she wouldn’t like the answer, Odessa decided she needed to ask the next question. “Who was it?”

  “Her own son, your father, Santin the Siberian.”

  Chapter Five

  Odessa had been quiet since their arrival in Moscow. Correctly interpreting that this introspection was connected to his disclosure about her father, Lowell remained silent during the cab ride from the airport to the hotel. He was content to watch her expressive face as she viewed the city at dusk. It was a relief to have her with him, since the road signs were all in Russian and their cab driver spoke no English. When they arrived at the hotel, it was grand on an imposing scale, with furnishings that harked back to Russia’s imperial past. Odessa conversed in quick-fire Russian with the check-in clerk before turning to bestow a heavy old-fashioned key on Lowell.

  “Separate rooms?” His lips twitched. “Seriously?”

  “I booked online before we left New York.” A faint pink blush stained her cheeks. “I guess I wasn’t prepared to assume anything.”

  He carried their luggage to the elevator. “You can assume we won’t be needing one of these keys.”

  Her soft indrawn breath tested his self-control to its limit. Despite the heat between them, they maintained a discreet distance apart in the elevator. The presence of several elderly couples had more to do with that than any restraint on Lowell’s part. Conscious of his cell phone buzzing furiously, he checked it, frowning at the display.

  “Problems?” Odessa asked, as the elevator reached their floor.

  “I’m not sure.” Each of the other six members of the brotherhood had been trying to contact him while he had been traveling. When he didn’t reply, their messages had become increasingly frantic. The final voice mail simply said, “Wherever you are, find a news station, then call me.” Lowell recognized Samson’s voice. The brotherhood’s largest and toughest member wasn’t usually inclined to overdramatize a situation.

  Using one of the keys, Lowell entered a vast, luxurious room. After trying and failing to get a decent internet signal on his cell phone, he turned to Odessa. “Can we get an English news channel on the TV?”

  If she was taken aback by the change from raging desire to brisk efficiency, she gave no sign of it. “We should be able to get the world service.” She switched on the set and found the right channel.

  He didn’t have to try and guess which news story his friends were contacting him about. He was immediately confronted with an image of his own face filling the screen.

  “Police in New York are still seeking this man in connection with the bomb that destroyed part of an office block earlier today.” The newsreader’s cool tones filled the room. “Detectives believe the targeted attack was part of a campaign against Santin Creative. It is not yet known how many people were injured in the explosion . . .”

  “What the fuck?” Lowell glared in disbelief as his picture was replaced by a video clip of him leaving Odessa’s offices, then another of the same building with smoke and flames pouring from the windows.

  Odessa scrambled in the pocket of her jeans for her cell phone, giving a whimper as she stared at it. She held it up, showing Lowell the blank screen. “No charge.” Her eyes were huge as she gazed at him. “My colleagues . . .”

  He caught hold of her with one arm, pulling her hard against him. She clung to him and he got the feeling he was the only thing keeping her upright. “Let me see what I can find out.” He found Samson’s number with fingers that weren’t quite steady.

  Samson answered immediately. “Where the fuck are you?”

  “Moscow.”

  He heard Samson draw a breath. “If you are in Moscow, how come your picture is all over the news as the guy who blew up the Santin Creative offices this morning?”

  “Maybe th
e same reason Odessa Santin was filmed pouring poison over the Arctic tundra when she was actually in Florida.” Odessa was trembling violently, and Lowell ran his hand up and down her spine in an attempt to soothe her.

  “You’re saying it’s a setup?” Samson’s voice was calmer now, a note of relief mingled with incredulity creeping in.

  “Of course it’s a fucking setup.” Lowell couldn’t believe he was having to say the words to a man he had worked alongside for centuries. “Did you seriously believe I had turned into some kind of terrorist since you last saw me?”

  “I’m sorry.” His friend sounded genuinely apologetic. “It’s just . . . it was you in those pictures.”

  “Yeah, well that’s something we’ll have to figure out when we get together. For now, I need to know if anyone was hurt in that attack.”

  “They haven’t released that information yet, but I’ll do what I can to find out more and get back to you.” Samson became businesslike. “Why are you in Moscow?”

  “It’s a long story, but I’m on my way to Siberia with Odessa Santin.” Lowell ended the call abruptly. That should give his friends something to think about.

  * * *

  Odessa pressed tight against Lowell’s body, wanting to absorb him, to get inside his skin. For the first time, she didn’t fight or question her craving for him, she simply allowed his nearness to overwhelm and soothe her. Whatever it was, this attraction between them went deeper than sex. His touch calmed her and she needed that now, needed to feel his strong arms around her, his lips on her temple. She still had no idea how many people had been harmed in the attack on her offices and her imagination was running wild, picturing the scene, tormenting her with images over which she had no control. The weight of her responsibility to her pack felt unbearably heavy, yet she couldn’t figure out what action to take against this enemy who lurked in the shadows.

  “Who is doing this?”

  “I don’t know.” There was frustration in Lowell’s voice as he made the admission. “The only person I can think of who would be capable of this sort of villainy and trickery is dead.”

  Odessa raised her head. “Who was that?”

  “Have you heard of Jean Chastel?” Odessa shook her head. “He was a werewolf bounty hunter. A man who used powerful sorcery to wage war on werewolves, no matter who they were. He vowed to destroy all werewolves and was doing his best to wipe out the Arctic species when the brotherhood stepped in to prevent him. These attempts to set the Siberians against the Arctics are exactly the sort of things he would do to get us to wipe each other out.”

  “But he is dead?”

  “Yes. Samson killed him a year ago. It’s a long story, but it was an encounter that had been foretold in ancient cave drawings.”

  She tilted her head back to look at him. “You seem to lead an interesting life.”

  A smile quirked the corners of his lips. “I could tell you more, if you’re interested.”

  Odessa rose on the tips of her toes, fitting her body to his. “Not now.”

  “No? Why not?”

  “Because that’s not what I want from you right now.” Her voice grew husky as she traced the line of his lower lip with her tongue.

  “It’s not?” His hands moved to grip her hips.

  She shook her head. “Right now I need you to make me forget everything except that I’m a wolf.”

  The gold of his eyes flared brighter than ever. Within seconds the mood had changed, just as she intended. As his lips claimed hers, he was already wrestling her out of her shirt and her body ignited. As he drove her toward the bed, the rest of their clothes were flung to the four corners of the room. Forcing Odessa down into a kneeling position with her upper body on the mattress, Lowell reared over her, his chest against her back, the front of his strong thighs tight to the back of hers. Mounting her like a wolf.

  “Like this?” His voice was rough in her ear. “Is this what your wolf wants?”

  She arched her back in acquiescence, lifting herself to him, losing herself in the sensations he aroused in her. The movement caused the head of his cock to tuck tight against the swollen lips of her cunt and she threw her head back, gasping at the rush of pleasure that thrilled through her. Growling softly, Lowell worked himself slowly into her, stretching her delicate internal muscles. Odessa exulted in his groan as her tightness caressed his sensitive flesh.

  It was so good it was maddening. Reaching back, she raked her nails lightly over his sac, feeling him draw up and tighten in the wake of her touch. In response, he gave a muttered curse and drove deeper into her. Slow, steady strokes that made her cry out. She could feel the raw, animal energy he was holding in check and she wanted all of it. All of him.

  “More.” Odessa barely recognized her own voice. There was a definite wolfish snarl in the words. “Now.”

  With an answering growl, Lowell gave her what she wanted. The thrusts built from slow and steady into wild and frenzied. He slammed his cock into her with blinding, savage strokes as she continued to beg for more. He kept her hovering close to orgasm, her muscles clenching around his shaft as she burned with a combination of pleasure and pain. Fire and lightning tore through her, tugging at the edges of her consciousness, waiting to send her spinning out of control.

  As he pounded himself into her, Odessa felt the first contractions of her muscles signal her release. Her vagina gripped Lowell’s cock like a fist, keeping him tight inside her as her world tilted off balance. She was flung into space, bright stars exploding inside her head as she cried out his name. At the same time, she felt Lowell’s own climax claim him. He thrust one final time as deep, hot spurts shot high inside her and he buried his head against her neck.

  As Odessa’s legs gave way, Lowell held her against him, lifting her onto the bed and cradling her close. “Try and get some sleep.” His breathing was still ragged as he whispered the words into her hair. “Tomorrow could be a long day.”

  And, despite everything that was going on around them, in his arms she felt the first stirrings of slumber tug at her consciousness.

  * * *

  Yakutsk was a bleak city, a snow and ice encrusted scene draped in a blanket of fog. The few hardy souls who braved the streets were encased from head to foot in fur. Odessa explained that twenty minutes was the maximum amount of time people spent outdoors in winter.

  “Not freezing to death is the preoccupation here.”

  Although they had both made the pretense of dressing for the weather, Lowell was secretly delighted to be in the city that claimed to be the coldest on earth and Odessa was clearly at home here in Siberia. Lowell, watching her as she hired a jeep to take them to the Olyokminsky district, wondered at her desire to make New York her home when this was clearly her natural environment. Here, her eyes shone brighter, her pale skin had a healthier glow and, as she threw back her head and laughed at something the car rental clerk was saying, she had a renewed vitality. Odessa might try and hide her inner wolf from others, but Lowell wondered how long she was going to try and hide the Siberian within from herself.

  Since Odessa knew the route, she did the driving. Once they left the city, the roads they took were poor, many of them little more than rough gravel tracks taking them past vast lakes and through fields and forest. Although they traveled through villages, the weather meant they saw little sign of life along the route. Lowell’s Arctic sensed the snow and ice and tugged at him for release.

  With surprise, he realized the last time his wolf had run free for any length of time was when he and the brotherhood had met on the remote Alaskan island of Ulu twelve months earlier to confront Chastel and his evil band of followers, known as the Hellhounds. Other than that, he had snatched only brief chances to shift and run in the woods near his home. His human work had kept him so busy since then he barely had time to think. His inner wolf was giving him a timely and very insistent reminder that his body had other, more basic needs.

  Gradually, the forest became denser and the road dwin
dled until it disappeared altogether. Finally, Odessa cut the engine. “We will have to continue on foot.”

  They were in a valley of conifer forest carpeted with alpine wildflowers. Although it was warmer here than in Yakutsk, the temperatures were still below freezing and their breath plumed on the air. The ground was iron-hard and through the trees, Lowell glimpsed snow-fringed mountain ridges.

  “I’ve got a better idea.” He started to undress. Odessa raised a questioning brow. “These bulky clothes are annoying me.”

  “If we leave our clothes here, we will have nothing to change into when we arrive.” It was a practical point, but one that didn’t appeal to Lowell’s sense of adventure.

  He continued undressing until he was naked. “It won’t be the first time I’ve had to improvise.”

  The icy ground under his feet felt heavenly. The cold air on his skin and filling his lungs was a reminder he was alive. Siberia wasn’t his home—the unique light of the midnight sun was missing and the curious buzz of the taiga insects was irritating—but it came close. He turned to face Odessa, who was still regarding him as if he had lost his mind. Lowell felt a twinge of sadness. What had caused this? How had she become so far removed from her inner wolf?

  “Join me.” He held out his hands to her and she took a half step back.

  “I haven’t done this for a very long time.” Her eyes were wide and almost fearful.

  “You never forget how.” Just like you never forgot how to breathe. Shifting was part of the werewolf DNA. Odessa could pretend it wasn’t, but only for so long.

  The outcome hung in the balance for a moment or two, then she nodded decisively. Slipping out of her fleece-lined outer clothing, thermal undergarments and heavy-duty boots, she faced him. Licking her lips, she flicked back her long hair.