Chapter One
Wolves didn’t keep pets, but Evan wasn’t letting that stop me.
His smokey gray wolf crouched in a play bow on the other side of the training room, tongue lolling like one of those dopey Labradors I often saw galumphing around the corner of Central Park that was visible from the Tower Room’s north window. Five weeks had passed since my first awful night at The Plaza, and I was still living in the suite meant for my twin sister’s honeymoon. An event which I now knew would have rightfully been mine had it ever actually happened. But it had not.
It really, really, really had not.
For me or Kiana.
And now that Sebastian had released me from his mate claim, I had every intention of keeping it that way. Forever. If life in Manhattan had taught me anything, it was that I needed a male like—how had Charlie always put it?—like a fish needed a motorcycle. Was that right? That didn’t sound quite right. But now my mind was filling up fast with infuriating images of the Sebastian I might have fallen in love with.
The Sebastian with the Danny Zuko jacket and the Clark Kent glasses and the Jack Kelly newsboy cap. The Sebastian who’d secretly been sitting in the back row of the Last Century Cinema the last time all my human friends and I would ever watch The Princess Bride. The Sebastian who’d been ready to rumble when his shady pack mates had me cornered in the empty subway station.
But I hadn’t seen any hint of that Sebastian since the night on the bridge when he’d bowed his head and murmured, “As you wish.” Instead, on the rare occasions that I saw him at all, I saw nothing but an overpriced suit snugged tightly around the same passionless statue who had sat quietly on that wretched subway car while Evan jumped up to defend me. So yeah, I needed that Sebastian like a fish needed a motorcycle, no matter how many nights the one in the jacket swaggered through my dreams.
My incredibly detailed dreams…
Evan pounced, caroming off the padded wall and barrel rolling like one of those human parkour pups that used to do crazy stunts on the playground near the Bronx pack’s high-rise. Impressive to watch, but foolish to try. I easily caught Evan broadside with my giant white paws, and he flew through the air in the opposite direction before tumbling to the floor like a swatted fly.
“You got me!” he howled, flipping onto his back and pointing four stiff legs at the ceiling. He flopped his head toward me and croaked, “Tell my mom… tell her I love…” His tongue unfurled onto the floor with a dramatic gasp. “Men.”
“Don’t do that,” I growled, stalking over to him.
He rolled onto his chest, panting with mirth. “Oh, right, sorry. Males.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I said quietly. “Don’t play—”
I couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t make myself say that awful word for what Charlie was now. That word for what Evan would’ve been too if the Mark of Chann hadn’t compelled me to sink my fangs into his shoulder. The word for what we all were to Jayla now.
“Don’t take my dark humor, Elyse.” Evan widened his bright blue wolf eyes and manic Labrador grin. “She’s the only therapist I’ve got.”
I lowered my head with a heavy sigh and touched my snow white muzzle to the ashy gray one I’d bestowed upon my friend. My bite may have given him back his life, but it had taken every single thing that made it uniquely his. The apartment full of movie memorabilia he'd shared with Jayla and Charlie… the high-paying tech job he’d thrown himself into after giving up on acting… the dream he never should have trashed just because he wasn’t the right guy to play Helena Bonham Carter’s teenage son on Alma Mater Animalis… and, worst of all, any hope of ever finding the right guy to spend the rest of his miraculously extended life with.
Some miracle! I turned his New York City into that backwards town from Footloose!
As if sensing my oncoming spiral, Evan gave my cheek a quick comforting lick. I didn’t have the heart to remind him right then that it didn’t matter what form we were in, tongue-based physical affection between unmated males and females was strictly prohibited. Even here in Manhattan where a lot of things were considerably less old-fashioned then they were back in the Bronx. If Evan and I ever appeared to be in danger of spontaneously mating, then Alpha Max had the right to arrange a ceremony before we gave into temptation—and not necessarily with each other. My own father had once disliked a self-made match so much that he arranged a double mating ceremony for the would-be couple—with new partners he had chosen for them.
Claim or no claim, I knew Sebastian would never let his father arrange a ceremony for me, but I wouldn’t put it past him to already be arranging a ceremony for Evan and some unclaimed, low-rank female who wouldn’t ask too many questions about my friend’s past. For a well-traveled wolf with more exposure to human culture than most, Sebastian was having a ridiculously hard time grasping the fact that yes, I could turn a human into a shifter but no, I could not turn a gay man straight.
Evan himself had cautiously suggested that I take Sebastian’s ignorance as a compliment, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find it the slightest bit flattering. Every time Sebastian shot a suspicious glance at my only remaining friend, I felt like the same piece of raw meat he’d pointed at during my sister’s mateship ceremony. Like I was only good for one thing and so incredibly good for it that even Evan would forget who he was and become obsessed with pupping me up. Why couldn’t Sebastian see that he was biting himself on the foot with this nonsense after he’d come so close to convincing me that wasn’t all he wanted me for?
Well, the joke would be on him if he tried to make Evan take a female mate because I would take Evan for myself before I let that happen. There obviously weren’t any shifter laws stating that mated pairs had to be genuinely attracted to each other, and monogamy had always been optional for shifter males if they knew where to find outcast females or even human women. Everyone simply looked the other way when a male’s pheromone signature changed... and changed… and changed some more.
But the pheromones didn’t reveal names. With me as his official mate, Evan would be able to keep pursuing his own interests, and with him as mine, I would never have to worry about being treated like a piece of raw meat again. And with enough alcohol and dark humor, the two of us could probably muddle our way through… um, changing our pheromones. But that plan was only in case of an emergency. I wanted Evan to be as free as he’d run away to New York City to be. As free as he’d been before the man with the bat made me take everything Evan had fought for away from him.
So, that left me with three options to consider before going nuclear. One, I could mate with Sebastian and try to use my feminine wiles to persuade him to smash the patriarchy for me. Two, I could challenge Kiana for control of the Bronx and smash it up there myself. Or three, Evan and I could just run away to L.A. and leave all the packs in New York to smash themselves to pieces on their rancid old rules and toxic traditions.
After a month of exhausting wolf lessons with Evan and infrequent but incredibly awkward encounters with Sebastian, all within the increasingly claustrophobic confines of The Plaza Hotel… Option Two was rapidly gaining appeal.
“So.” Evan abruptly stood and fluffed out his lustrous coat. “Would we call that waxing on or waxing off, Mama Miyagi?”
“Don’t do that either,” I growled.
“What?” Evan blinked innocently down at me. His wolf, like his human, had a solid six inches on me. “Drop a Karate Kid reference?”
I flattened my ears. He knew I didn’t like it when he teased me about being his mother now, but he didn’t know it was partially because I was steeling myself for the possibility of whelping his pups if all else failed to keep him safe here. And I wasn’t about to tell him about the Nuclear Option. So, he’d gotten the idea in his head that his jokes and my protests were some sort of comedy bit we were both having fun with.
“But you made me.” Evan ducked into another play bow, wagging his tail over his muscular haunches. “Aren’t you proud?”