Wolf and Punishment (The Alaska Princesses Trilogy, Book 1) Read online

  But if Alisha heard the weariness in her sister’s voice, she ignored it, continuing on like Janelle hadn’t said anything. “I’m just saying, that pledge dance between you and King Mag looked awkward in every sense of the word.”

  “I know,” Janelle said, inwardly cringing at the memory.

  “Awkward like the meeting between Ulysses S. Grant and whoever had to tell him about what happened at the Battle of Little Bighorn while the nation was celebrating its centennial. Like manifest-destiny-idealism-dying-on-a-vine awkward.”

  Janelle wasn’t 100% sure what Alisha was talking about and it wasn’t the first time. Her sister had a bad habit of peppering her conversations with obscure historical references and analogies. But it didn’t take much for Janelle to get the gist of what Alisha was trying to say now.

  “Yes, I get it. It was really awkward. I agree. You’re exactly right.” Over the years, she’d found the best way to get her sister to stop talking was to agree with her, thereby taking the contrarian-fueled air out of her sails.

  “I’m just saying…” Alisha seemed about ready to throw more salt her way, but then she trailed off. “Is that Tu?”

  A few meters away, in the shadows to the side of the guest house entrance, Tu was having a serious make-out session with a man who was definitely not the tall, thin deejay she'd been flirting with earlier, the young Brad Pitt look-alike she'd gotten to play that block of Michael Jackson songs.

  No, this man had the same shade of sandy blond hair as the deejay, but that was where the comparisons ended. This guy was big. Even taller than Mag, and wider, too. Also, this guy…

  Janelle scoured her memory and recalled that yes, she’d met him before. Briefly. Three years ago while walking into her first and last night club with Mag and Rafe. She couldn’t recall his name, but she knew for sure Tu shouldn’t be kissing him out here in the open where anyone could stumble across them.

  Alisha looked about ready to go straight up to their youngest sister and pull her out of the clench, but Janelle took her by the arm and silently shook her head. She walked her sister back to the copse of the trees they’d just rounded on the way to the guest house, and said as loudly as she could, “That was such a delightful party, but I am exhausted. I’ll certainly sleep well tonight.”

  Alisha rolled her eyes but played along, letting Janelle reset their pace to nearly slow motion as they once again rounded the copse. “Yes, many of the diaries I’ve read by royal she-wolves have included passages to the effect of ‘am overtired after the ball, must go to bed without writing, will tell all tomorrow.’”

  “You don’t say,” Janelle replied as loudly and dramatically as she could. “That’s fascinating.”

  They didn’t have to keep the act up too long. When they cleared the copse of trees this time, they found Tu standing at the door. Alone.

  “Hey, guys,” she said, waving like she hadn’t just been all over some wolf she wasn’t pledged to. “Did you have fun at the dance?”

  And just like that, ranting Alisha came back. “Well, I was having fun talking to Chloe until Rafe came up, and was, like…” she pitched her voice low and broke into a decidedly dorky accent, “‘Chloe you’re talking to Alisha too much. Stop talking to Alisha. Why are you always talking to Alisha when I’m Rafe and you could be talking to me and all the other people I want to talk to?’ Then when I tried to get her to dance with us, he actually told her she couldn’t go! Can you believe that? Pulls her out of there like I was the she-wolf version of the bubonic plague and was going to infect her with my dancing. Heaven forbid I give her any ideas about having fun at the party she and his mother—not him—threw in his college buddy’s honor. What an asshole!”

  “Or maybe he was dragging her off because he was tired of you hogging her all night,” Tu said, leading the way into the guest house. “They’re supposed to be the couple, not you and Chloe… unless there’s something you want to tell us, professor?”

  “Tu…” Janelle said, rubbing at her temple. “Please don’t.”

  “I’m just saying I’m here for our sister whenever she’s ready to come out,” Tu said, her voice as inauthentically sweet as a packet of sucralose.

  Alisha rolled her eyes in annoyance. “The insinuation that a she-wolf who’s interested in academics or in her own agency or in friendship with other she-wolves must be a lesbian is an insult, not only to lesbians but also to yourself,” here she shot Tu a look of clear disdain, “because obviously you’re not interested in your own agency or your fellow she-wolves enough to take anything I say seriously.”

  “Alisha…” Janelle warned as the three of them started up the stairs to the second floor.

  “What?” Alisha asked, widening her eyes with faux innocence. “Tu’s been trying to prove she really isn’t as smart as I think she is all night, and I’m just agreeing with her. Good idea to skip college, Tu. Given what I’ve seen this evening, perhaps you’re right in thinking you might not be cut out for any endeavors that require actual thought.”

  Tu glared over her shoulder at Alisha. “Are you calling me dumb just because I’m not getting some stupid degree in a subject I’m never going to use?”

  Alisha returned the glare just as well as she’d gotten it. “Are you really saying my degree doesn’t matter, that our history doesn’t matter? That I’m just some boring academic and the way you live your life is so much better? Drinking and making out with strange wolves at parties—and yes, we saw you tonguing that random guy just now, by the way.”

  Tu’s eyes flashed, all traces of her saucy humor gone. “You think you’re so much better than me because you went to college, because you’ve got this big hate on for fun,” she said when they reached the top of the stairs. “But really, we’re just alike. We’re both filling up our time until we go into heat and Mom and Dad mate us off.”

  Tu sneered at Alisha. “I don’t care if you want to use your time being boring, Alisha, but unless you’re ready to come out as a lesbian, stop pretending you’re not ever going to have to go into heat and mate up just like Janelle and me. Because that’s what she-wolves do unless they’re gay.”

  Alisha’s eyes flashed and she looked like she was going to give Tu an ear full, but Janelle put her hands on both their shoulders. “Alisha, Tu, please. We’re sisters. We love each other. That’s all that matters. I’m really tired. I mean, really tired. Can we please stop fighting, please?”

  A wave of frustrated exhaustion rolled over Janelle. The thing was, both Alisha and Tu were right. This situation she’d found herself in was bullshit, but it was also the hand she’d been dealt: a father-saving fiancé dead, replaced by a former lover who, as it turned out, didn’t want her back and had only been getting back at her for what she’d done to him three years ago.

  She could no longer play peacemaker between Alisha and Tu. Suddenly she was just out of coulds.

  And miraculously, her sisters seemed to get it. Alisha’s hand came to rest on her shoulder and Tu rubbed her arm.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Tu asked at the same time Alisha demanded, “What’s wrong? Why are you sad? Tell me.”

  “I know our pledge dance was awkward, and I know you think it’s bullshit, Alisha, but I actually—I mean, I really liked Mag,” Janelle answered, her lips pulling down in a sad frown despite her efforts to keep her pleasant princess face on as she relayed her seriously abridged story. “I thought… I thought we’d make a good mating if he’d have me, but he found me wanting and he’s definitely not going to put in an offer.”

  “Whaaat?” Tu said, her tone incredulous. “You’re hot, you’re a princess, you’ve got a big dowry, you throw the best parties… and did I mention you’re like the hottest she-wolf in all the North American territories? How could this dude not want you!?”

  Janelle shook her head. “He’s a football player and a challenge winner. There will be plenty of she-wolves campaigning for his pledge.”

  “None who compare to you,” Alisha answered, her voice rin
ging with the authority she usually only reserved for her academic mini-lectures.

  Tu nodded in agreement, “Tat Face couldn’t do any better than you.”

  “I feel like I’ve failed our crown and Daddy,” Janelle whispered. “I mean what’s he going to do when Mag turns down our pledging?”

  “He’ll either need to abdicate his throne or find you a suitable mate who will appreciate you as the valuable she-wolf you are,” Alisha answered. “Either way, none of this is your fault.”

  “It is my fault,” Janelle said, wishing she had the guts to confess just how badly she’d messed everything up for all of them.

  Tu shook her head viciously. “No, Janelle, don’t even. You’ve done everything Mama and Daddy have ever asked you to do. You’re the best princess ever. If Tat Face is too crazy to see that, then he’s the loser in this situation.”

  Janelle took her sisters’ comfort, even if she knew deep in her heart that they were wrong. It wasn’t like eligible kings and princes from resource-rich states who were willing to overlook her age grew on trees. The possible pledging to Mag had been their last hope, considering Tu was too young to be formally pledged and Alisha wasn’t even willing to have a conversation about letting their parents arrange a marriage for her. Their father was way too proud to abdicate the crown that had been in his family for over one hundred years. He’d die in a challenge fight before he did that. He’d die and it would be all her fault, because of what had happened between her and Mag three years ago.

  But her sisters didn’t need the burden of knowing any of that. Through sheer will and determination, she put her princess face back on and lied, “You know what, you’re right. Let’s go to bed. I’m sure I’ll feel much better about all of this after a good night’s sleep.”

  She hooked them both by the arms and started walking toward the guest bedroom she and Alisha were sharing. However, she once more came to a complete stop when she opened the door to find her mother and father—each seated on one of the guest twin beds—in a silence so thick, it was obvious they’d been having a somewhat intense telepathic conversation before their daughters had entered the room.

  Out loud, her father said, “Alisha, you can sleep in Tu’s room tonight. We need to talk with Janelle.”

  His tone was serious indeed, to the point that even Tu, who had campaigned for two weeks straight to have the third guestroom to herself, didn’t protest. However, she did give Janelle’s arm a squeeze before she left. “It’ll be all right, big sis.”

  Alisha also went without a fuss, saying, “We’re right down the hallway if you need us.”

  “Close the door behind you, please,” her mother said after Janelle stepped into the room.

  Janelle did as they said, her heart thumping wildly in her chest despite already knowing what they were going to tell her.

  “What did you say to the King of Wyoming?” her father demanded.

  Janelle’s throat clogged as her brain rushed around madly for some half-truth that would suffice for an answer. The real question was what had Mag told them?

  Janelle was on the edge of panic—but then her mother’s face split into a wide grin. “Because whatever you said, we’re going to trademark it and sell it to other royal parents who have older daughters up for pledge!”

  “What?” Janelle asked, her mind awash in confusion.

  Tikaani stood up and opening his arms wide for a hug. “I don’t know what you said during the five minutes you had with the new Wyoming king, but you nailed it. He’s agreed to all my pledge conditions and he wants you to come live with him so he’ll be close when you go into heat.”

  He pulled a completely stunned Janelle into his arms as her mother crowed, “My baby’s still got it! Your daddy and your mama and your state thank you, honey.”

  14

  IT all happened so fast after that. Janelle woke up the next morning to be informed that Mag had already left on his return flight, but that a first-class ticket had been reserved for her. She’d be departing for Cheyenne in just a few hours, and she’d be traveling to the kingdom town of Wolf Creek from there. She’d had to pack fast to make the late morning flight and barely had time to hug her happy parents, Tu, Vince, and a silently disapproving Alisha, before heading out to the car that would take her to the Denver airport.

  Then…

  Well, nothing. She arrived in Wyoming to be informed by Mrs. Coates, the Wyoming residence’s no-nonsense housekeeper, that Mag had come, informed her of Janelle’s imminent arrival, and then immediately left again for his home in Los Angeles.

  “So, he’s not here?” Janelle asked. “Did he say when he’d be coming back?”

  Mrs. Coates arched an eyebrow at her, the question of why Janelle didn’t know when her own fiancé would be returning to the house they would be sharing for the foreseeable future clear on her face.

  “No, he didn’t say,” Mrs. Coates answered, extending her hand toward the stairs. “Here, I’ll show you to your suite.”

  This was a bit of theater on Mrs. Coates's part. Janelle, of course, already knew the way to the suite, which had been designated for the future Queen of Wyoming. She’d stayed in it many times when she’d come down to visit Jeffrey. But Janelle knew this situation was awkward for everyone involved: her, the wolves in the Wyoming state pack, and the housekeeper who’d been serving King Jeffrey up until just a few weeks ago.

  “How has the transition been for you?” she asked the housekeeper as she let herself be led up the stairs to the familiar suite. “It must have come as a surprise given the Wyoming family’s longstanding line.”

  Mrs. Coates shrugged, her hands going palm up as she did so. “It’s the way of the wolf. My sister works in the Texas kingdom house, and that crown has changed hands over five times since she’s been there. She’s still got a job. Everybody needs cleaning up after.”

  “True,” Janelle agreed with a wry smile. Then she wondered if the current Alaska staff would mourn the passing of their guard if Janelle’s freshly signed pledge deal with Mag fell through. She didn’t know, and hoped she would never find out.

  “Thank you,” she murmured to Mrs. Coates after the older wolf showed her into the suite.

  “Would you like dinner up here or downstairs?”

  “Here is fine,” Janelle answered, looking around the familiar room.

  She’d never been a fan of the room’s décor, but now it’s flower print damask wallpaper and overly flourished French provincial bed and dressers turned her stomach, like she’d eaten too much ice cream while sitting in a meadow of pretty but not very interesting scenery.

  “Actually, Mrs. Coates, I do have one more request.”

  “Yes?” Mrs. Coates asked, turning back around.

  “Would you mind terribly driving me back into Cheyenne? I think I’d like to pick up a few things for the house.”

  JANELLE SPENT MOST of her first weeks in Wyoming redecorating the kingdom mansion. Her life consisted of meeting via Skype with various committees for Alaska crown events in the mornings, then driving into Cheyenne with Mrs. Coates in the afternoon to pick out wallpaper, new furniture, and everything else she’d needed to redecorate the mansion from top to bottom.

  She had no idea why Mag had chosen to reside in Los Angeles as opposed to Wyoming or if their engagement would actually be worth the paper their formal pledge agreement had been written on, but one thing was for certain: now that the retired former Queen and King of Wyoming were firmly ensconced in the guest house of their daughter who’d been fortuitously given away in a good marriage to a business wolf, Janelle wanted all traces of the family gone from the kingdom house.

  She donated all of the family’s antiques to a local museum, replacing them with a mixture of simple modern furniture and a few large Inuit art pieces, which she’d had shipped in from her favorite gallery in Fairbanks. She also had the boring floral wallpaper pulled out of the hallways and living room and replaced it with a red, black, and white damask she’d commissioned
from a design company owned by Alaska Natives. And she asked her father to send down enough yellow cedar to panel the king’s study—though she stopped short of actually going in and completely redecorating Mag’s office space.

  Redecorating the king’s study, she knew from countless discussions with Jeffrey on the topic, was a deeply personal experience, akin to a rite of passage for a new king. She wouldn’t deny Mag that.

  Still, she hoped he’d like the rest of the house enough to ask her for her advice on redoing his study, because she had ideas. Lots of them. Ones she was sketching on a piece of drawing paper, while sitting at the king’s desk, when her phone rang. She’d been thinking so hard about what Mag might want his study to look like that for a moment, she wondered if it was him calling, even though he’d yet to do so since her arrival in Wyoming. However, when she checked the caller ID, her shoulders sagged. It was her mom.

  “Hi, Mama,” she said cheerily despite her disappointment.

  “Your wolf back yet?” her mother asked without greeting.

  “No, not yet,” Janelle answered. “But I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

  “How does he expect you to go into heat if he’s not there for inspiration?”

  Janelle struggled to keep her expression pleasant. Throwing herself into redecorating the mansion had been a great distraction, but now her mother was on the phone asking questions. Question’s that weren’t helping with the panic attack she’d been trying to keep at bay ever since the first week had passed without so much as a word from Mag.

  “Is that why you’re calling?” Janelle asked, her voice still as cheery as she could force it to be. “Or was there something else I could help you with? An event matter maybe?”

  “Level with me, Janelle, just how serious do you think this new Wyoming king is about your pledge? Do you really think he’s still planning on marrying you, or is he going to call us up any day now and say he’s changed his mind?”