Summoning The Wolf Ch 01

Hi everyone! This sequel to Taming an Immortal is dedicated to you readers who have written to me asking for a pairing between a non-human female and a human male. It is indeed a challenge because of the balance of dominance but for a first, I'll give it my best!

I think it's safe to read this without reading the previous story but you'll have a better picture if you read from the start.

*****

Prologue

Fifteen months ago: Battle of Seurri

"Commander Titus, it's over. We have instructions to bring back our wounded."

Titus, village Chief of Eilean, looked up from the city blueprints spread out in front of him. Hadn't he ordered not to be disturbed? Minutes ago, hyena enemies had broken down an entire section of the city walls, their numbers spilling onto the streets. Titus needed to come up with a counterattack now. He didn't have time for -

This human messenger boy had the most determined stare he had ever seen.

"Under whose orders?"

"Lord Etienne, Commander!" The boy was bent in half at the waist, the bow of respect and desperation.

At the mention of the name, Titus studied the messenger carefully, knowing that the name of the Pureblood Vampire was not something to be used lightly. Whatever truce this was, there was no guarantee for it to last. The key was to still remain vigilant.

Folding his maps carefully, Titus walked out of his makeshift tent to search for his medics. "Move the triage indoors. Anything minor goes to the end of the hall. We have incoming."

To his officers, he commanded, "Saddle up and keep your eyes peeled. I don't like the feel of this."

Hoisting the young boy onto his horse, Titus rode out into the darkness, galloping over bodies of men, wolves and hyenas until they reached the edges of the city near the ocean.

"It's Princess Eulalie's and Lord Etienne's troops," gasped the messenger boy. One look at the extensive injuries of the soldiers and Titus went barking to the accompanying men.

"Treat what you can then take the wounded back immediately. Tell the kitchens to fire up the gruel and keep as many alive as you can." Turning to the young messenger, he ordered him to head down to the escape tunnels to gather as many women to double up as nurses.

Meanwhile, Titus continued walking past the fallen soldiers, noting that despite their injuries, most of them were sat in a protective ring around a wounded comrade in the middle. There was no question that they were wolves for in the centre lay a snowy pelt Changeling, its body limp and its breathing weak. The princess.

"I'm not going to hurt her. I am Titus with the city's army and I am here to help," he announced to the growling men and wolves.

The white wolf lifted its head slightly to look at him but made no move to attack and instead rested its head back onto the ground with a gentle whine.

Titus had never patched up a Changeling before but if their physiology was anything like the dogs he kept back in his village, then it shouldn't be that much different. Lifting the wolf's head onto his lap, he turned its body slightly and took a sharp breath at the sight of the open wound. Part of the wolf's skin flapped back, revealing a crater that looked like someone had taken a chunk out of the flesh.

"I thought you non-humans were excellent healers," he murmured, taking out his surgical needle and thread. "I'm going to have to stitch you up quickly or this will get infected."

The wolf looked at him cautiously with its gold-rimmed blue eyes, keeping absolutely still even when he pressed an alcohol soaked pad over the wound. That would have made even the strongest of men swear to disembowel him but the princess didn't even whimper.

"Alright beautiful, this might hurt... but it seems you're really strong, so it might not." He tried to distract the wolf as best by chatting about random things; all the while running the thread through the skin and pelt as efficiently as he could.

The moment he snipped off the last bit of thread, the wolf began to growl, baring its teeth - not at him but at the group of Changeling men approaching them.

"I didn't hurt her, I promise. Now we have to move her onto the wagon back to the castle." Titus lifted the wolf's head gently from his lap and was about to rest it on the grass when one of the men stopped him.

"No Princess of ours is going on top of that contraption. We will carry her back to the castle."

Titus looked over at the men - most of whom were also nursing major injuries of their own. Despite their aggression, Titus knew they were merely anxious about their princess, especially since her Alpha status was evident in their deference.

With a sigh, he lifted the wolf into his arms instead and got to his feet. "Not in your condition. I will take her back myself." Turning to the Changeling men, he gave a small smile as he mounted his horse. "You may rip my throat out later. For now, let my healers help you."

The moment his back was turned from the Changelings, the white wolf squirmed in his hold, gnashing its teeth at him.

"You're burning up," he concluded, rearing his horse into a gallop. The wolf only let out a low howl before bursting into a ball of light in his arms, causing him to momentarily lose control of his horse as the shimmering brightness blinded him.

Titus felt himself flung off the beast and onto the hardened ground; the sound of panicked hooves stomping the ground beside him.

"Easy, easy there boy..." A feminine voice. Hoarse.

Forcing himself to open his eyes, Titus caught sight of defiant blue eyes and a view that nearly knocked all the air from his lungs.

Naked. She was naked.

Apart from the strips of leather woven waist down to mid-thigh, every inch of creamy skin was bared for his appreciation. Not that he was looking.

Especially since she had the most stubborn tilt to her chin as she stared at him from beside his horse. Dear gods above! The stories revering her looks paled in comparison to the fierce beauty before him. Hair so blonde, it was almost white, fell in waves down her starkly tanned body -one that had been honed as a warrior from her sculpted shoulders down to her flat belly and lower...

Her curved hips were a sensuous invite. Made a man think about putting his hands over them and -

A warning growl.

Ah yes. This was no ordinary woman. Beneath the veneer of sexuality lay the primal instinct of a wolf that would attack without hesitation. In the wild, males have been known to willingly mate with such vicious females even at the risk of their own deaths - black widow spiders, praying mantises -but Titus was not about to court death, even if it promised unbound pleasures, ever.

Cursing to himself, Titus got to his feet, bringing his fingers to the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head. Rather them both be half naked than her entering Seurri in a state of tantalising undress.

But when she turned away from him, that was when he noticed her wound.

"Princess, your back..." Whatever stitching had come undone, requiring his immediate attention. She might be holding back her screams but Titus wasn't fooled.

"I'll be fine," she insisted, simply crossing her arms across her chest and ignoring his offer of decency. "Do not presume that I will simply submit to having your scent all over me."

For a moment, Titus almost caught himself lifting his arms to take a whiff. Yes, he had been running and fighting for most part of the day but to be accused of being a stinker...

"I assure you Princess that my shirt is made of the finest cotton from my village. Nothing like silk for your precious skin but it'll suffice. Now put it on..." He shoved the shirt at her. "Please."

Narrowing her eyes at him, the wolf princess snatched his shirt but made no move to put it on. Instead, she merely clutched it to her chest as she hoisted herself with as much grace as she could afford up his horse before turning to give him dagger-like stares.

"Keep your hands to yourself human," she hissed when he slipped behind her.

"Trust me Princess, that will never happen. Ever."

***

Chapter 1

Eulalie was dressed for mourning.

And that was the only thing compelling her not to tug at the wraps of white around her body or the constricting strap around her neck. Modesty was the highest respect a wolf Changeling could offer, especially in a situation like this -even if it meant being vulnerable under all that layers of cloth. Eulalie rather favoured her usual garb of pleated leathers and her unbridled blonde hair. Made it all the more easier to shift and attack.

Not that she was regretting it. No. This was the single most important moment in her life.

After weeks of scouring through the labyrinth of caves beneath the central mountains, they had finally collected most - if not all - of the dead children. She had personally prepared their bodies for the burial rituals; bathing them in scented water and wrapping their minute bodies in the finest cloth she could spare from her own treasury.

"Princess, whenever you are ready." One of her beta wolves pressed the torch into her palms, bowing low as he retreated to the circle surrounding the ritual platform.

Nodding -more for her benefit than theirs - she touched the tip of the flame to the pile of wood beneath the platform and watched as the embers spread, consuming all organic matter in its path. She supposed, this was cathartic -a cleansing for the dead and also a closure for the living.

A very Vampire concept.

And yet, here she was, honouring the half of the blood making up these innocents by partaking in this ritual. Her way of returning to them some semblance of humaneness after the crimes committed against them by the Pureblood masquerading as their father and sire. She would have hunted him down and ripped his living flesh from his bones if Lord Etienne of the West had clearly forbid her to do so.

And the only reason she agreed - because she never took orders blindly -was that Ealdwin, the Pureblood responsible for this massacre, had tried to hurt Rose and her baby. Now

that

was the only acceptable excuse to let Etienne tear apart this sick bastard, uncle and all. No one touched the mate and child of a male without consequences.

Death, especially that of young, always ripped apart whatever social fabric that held the pack together, seeing how they were so difficult to conceive in the first place.

Even her father with his multitude of wives only managed to sire eighteen children, of which she was the second and only female. Oh, did she mention that Changelings often sired males? Something about their physiological makeup that favoured the alpha sex - not that it made her any less dominant than her brothers. In fact, she was

too

dominant.

A gift, her father would say but for Eulalie it was a curse.

Next only to her eldest sibling and her father, she had found Changeling men so unsatisfying with their need to succumb to her wolf or her royal status. True, it wasn't their fault but apart from the gratifying romp between the sheets, none of the males interested her long enough for her to pay attention.

And after 300 years of being a single femme fatale, carefree sex was starting to take its toll on her. With no mate and no child to call her own, Eulalie was only now coming to understand the feeling of longing and emptiness so many of her female pack members often whispered of. Her father, the Changeling Lord of the East, had no desire to have her mated. Not only because he had enough sons to take over his throne but also because that overbearing ogre didn't think any male was good enough for her.

But damn it! To be mateless all her life? That was just pure selfishness.

Perhaps she should give herself a year. Find a nice wolf -maybe someone like Merkel and then settle down.

"Yeah right," she muttered under her breath. As if she would submit to any male.

But then again, she'd never bedded a red wolf before so maybe the experience might not be

too

bad. Who's to say she had to marry him? It would be mutual fun and when it was time to break it off, neither would hold a grudge. That was just how things were between Changelings.

Besides, that would just give her an excuse to visit the Southern lands more and spend time with Lady Rose and her beautiful prince.

"Sister mine, if you frown any harder, I might find it difficult to pry your brows apart."

Taking her eyes away from the smouldering ashes, Eulalie tilted her face up to the broad genuine smile of her youngest and most beloved brother. Those blue eyes with gold rims echoed her own.

"Eirikr, we all know your fingers won't make it back to your side whole if you dare." Her tone was harsh but from the glint of laughter in his eyes, she knew her joke was not lost on him. There could never exist a universe in which Eulalie would dare raise her hand against her baby brother - not that he was ever insolent to begin with.

Trusting, kind, gentle and openly loving would be a better description of Eirikr. Even in his dominance, he never gave a command that intentionally hurt anyone's feelings. Nor did he take unwilling lovers as was the norm practiced by their brothers and father. In fact, the one and only lover he had ever taken - despite her disapproval - was that Pureblood cousin of Etienne's.

She must have been scowling at him for Eirikr began to draw her into his warmth, dousing her in his calming heartbeat and scent. Sighing, Eulalie cursed how time flew by, robbing her of the moments when her baby brother was well... still a baby. Truly, was he already 200 years old?

"What ails you sister? If it is a male, I will rip out his heart if it makes you smile again."

Now wasn't that the problem?

"I wish there was one so you could threaten to do exactly that to him. Alas, there is none!" she complained.

"Is it a mate you are looking for? Or simply... pleasure?" His eyes averted at the mention of the last word. Indeed, her brother was an anomaly in that aspect; a detriment only to himself for the Pureblood female he had sworn monogamy to had no intentions of ever being with him again.

"I wouldn't rule out the former," she whispered, almost ashamed at having to admit that to him. "But unlike you, I do not wish to tie myself to anyone -yet."

Pressing a kiss on her forehead, he cupped her cheek and smiled. "Perhaps I could help. You know I do a lot of trade with the nearby islands and personally, I've met some wolf nobility who might... be of interest to you."

"And no females are of interest to

you

?" She arched an eyebrow at him.

"Please. Let us not conduct morbid confessions unworthy of this evening," he laughed. "We've got a long night ahead of us."

Eulalie knew he was evading the issue but her brother was right. As with their customs, the burials would commence at midnight all the way till dawn. And Eulalie would be the one to dig the most graves and lay to rest the most innocents.

Fucking long night.

***

Titus, son of Theodore of Eilean stepped into the receiving hall of his manor and inspected the contributions from the village households. Due to the atrocities that the hyena Changelings assaulted on their village a year ago, nearly half of their arable land had gone to waste. And with the fish Changelings retreating closer to the sea, the rivers of Eilean were bereft of the beautiful polished gems that had often been given as tribute to the Lord of the West.

"Chief Titus, I am afraid this is all we could offer the Lady of the South this year." The mortified look accompanying the treasurer's apology said it all.

What a first impression to make to their new ruler.

With the shifting of boundaries between the Western and Southern lands, Lady Rose of the South now provided the protection and support that Eilean desperately needed to rebuild its town. In fact, under the new southern rule, taxes have been greatly reduced, trade encouraged and from their last negotiations with the council of advisors, connecting roads were being built linking the north-west territories directly to the city. And what had Eilean offered in return? Perishables.

Even though Titus knew Rose personally and knew she would never hold it out against his people; it still shamed him to have his village fall short on their tribute. Pathetic.

"Hale, assemble the head of families who have at least two sons. I will address them as soon as they are ready," he ordered, grateful that the treasurer didn't even bat an eye as he strode out to complete his task.

The village clock had barely made its chime for the next hour when the first family arrived - a farmer and his two sons, both of whom looked barely fifteen years of age. From the uncanny resemblance, Titus concluded that they were twins which meant separating them would be hard; if not harder than taking them away from their families.

So when Hale finally entered the hall with the last of the families, Titus took a deep breath and gathered his fellow villagers.

"Thank you my brothers for coming here on such short notice. I will not try and sugar coat this nor leave you in suspense any longer," said Titus, taking a step back and pointing to their miniscule tribute offerings. "I require each family present to offer me one of your sons as tribute to Seurri. They will be trained as soldiers, fed and cared for by the royal infantry."

As expected, some of the younger boys gripped to their fathers while the older ones, on the brink of independence, stepped forward with their heads bowed. Still, it didn't prepare him for the wailings that followed -some from the parents and some from the child.

"I am not making this request lightly. Remember that many of you would not have gotten your children back from those hyena caves if not for Lady Rose." His sister had been one of the two who didn't make it.

"But Chief Titus! How am I to till my lands with one less son?" asked the father of the twins earlier.

Titus nodded at his concern, reaching forward to pat the man on his shoulder. "The Council of Elders will convene tonight to draw up a plan. We'll make sure all available hands farm these lands in the next season." Even if it meant taking the women away from their hearth to work the fields.

"Take this night to spend time with your sons. We will leave at daybreak for Seurri."

***

The Council of Elders were of his late father's contemporaries, each member already at that age where a successor had been groomed and sat by his side during their monthly meetings. Tonight however, was an exception.

Titus had requested the protégés to be given the veto-ing powers tonight; their predecessors providing only advice. It hadn't gone down well. At all.

"It is not my intention to displace you my Elders," assured Titus as he addressed the company of eight seniors and their successors. "But this matter has greater impact on the next generation -

they

would be the ones making the sacrifices."

"And our experiences count for nothing? Did you not think your father had to make such decisions in the past too?" This came from Hale's predecessor, a wizened elder whose mind was so sharp; he still spotted mistakes in his protégé's accounting. "Unlike previous tributes to the West, the Lady of the South has greatly reduced our taxes so why is there a need to supply the city with men? My calculations put us only at a deficit of an equivalent to four hundred units of silver."

Only? That equated to nearly double of their crop harvests this year!

"In more prosperous times, yes perhaps we could have measured up to that. But let me ask you this. Who is to say that this deficit will not go against our favour in the future should we request for help from Seurri? If we were to be attacked again, why should the Lady Rose send military support when another equally deserving village has paid its dues in full?