Shadow Wolf

the man twice in Zhobghadi—once during the wedding and another time after Prince Caspar was born—though he had never spoken with him. The middle Creed offspring had a superior air about him that seemed to say he was too good to speak to anyone beneath him, like bodyguards and servants. Which had been a puzzle to say the least, because the rest of the Creed family had been warm and friendly to everyone. He’d found Wyatt to be cold and stuck up, but never confrontational. What could have provoked him?
Lizzie pulled the lollipop from her mouth. “Can we get on with it, please? I have work to do.”
As the female turned on her heel and walked back behind her desk, Wyatt’s eyes tracked her movements. Huh. Definitely a piece of information he was going to put away for now.
“Where’s the boss?” Jacob plopped down on the nearest chair in front of Lizzie’s desk, so Delacroix followed suit and sat beside him. Wyatt didn’t make a move from where he stood by the door, but merely crossed his arms over his chest, his entire body going stiff.
“Mika’s running late today,” Vrost explained. “But she told me to go ahead and start without her, and she’ll catch up. So, you two, welcome back to New York.”
Nothing would have pleased Delacroix more than to wipe that smug smile off the Beta’s face. “Glad to be back,” he shot back.
Vrost seemingly ignored the sarcasm in his tone. “Now that you’re back, we need to get you up to speed as soon as possible. We are at war with the mages, make no mistake. With the defeat of Stefan, the master mage thirty years ago, we assumed that they’d been eradicated. But as we know, they’d only been biding their time, growing their strength and forces, recruiting among witches around the world. In some cases, they’ve taken entire covens, by persuasion or force. Not only that, they’ve been searching for the three artifacts of Magus Aurelius, magical objects that have so much power that they could put the entire world under their control. They have one, the necklace that can control humans, and we have one, the dagger of Magus Aurelius, safely tucked away in a secret location, but they’re doing everything in their power to steal ours.
“The Alpha has refused to stay passive, and we’ve hunted down every mage coven we could find, but it’s like the more we take down, more spring up somewhere else. Between trying to find the last artifact, protecting ourselves and the dagger, and hunting down the mages, our forces are spread too thin. That’s why we’ve recalled you two.” His icy blue gaze, however, focused on Delacroix. “We need all hands on deck if we’re going to end this war soon. Your abilities and your training with the Almoravid will be invaluable to us.”
An acrid taste built up in his throat. Once again, he and his abilities would be used and abused, made to fight in a war that had nothing to do with him. In leaving the Pont Saint-Louis clan for New York, he was only exchanging one master for another. At least in Zhobghadi, he had been at peace.
“You look like you have something to say, Delacroix.”
Vrost’s tone was as chilly as his icy stare, daring him to object. But he couldn’t. The bargain had been made, and the New York clan owned him for the next five years. However, he wouldn’t act like some obedient puppy, begging for its master’s approval.
“Don’t make much difference to me one way or the other.” He stretched out on the chair languidly, placing his hands behind his head and ankles crossed in front of him.
“Delacroix’s job at the palace was mostly to sit and look pretty,” Jacob joked. “And cause fights among the queen’s handmaidens.”
“I’m more of a lover than a fighter.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Lizzie, who ignored him in favor of scrolling on her phone. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle in awareness like someone was staring at him, and he didn’t need to turn his head to know where those particular daggers were coming from.
“You’ll follow orders, Delacroix,” Vrost said in a warning voice. “If you know what’s good for you.”
Like he needed it rubbed in his face some more. “I’ll follow your orders, but I don’t have any skin in this game, so don’t expect me to give more than I have to or give a rat’s ass about this war of yours.”
“Actually, it’s everyone’s war. The goddamn mages are out to destroy every last Lycan on earth.”
The voice was low and husky, and his entire body froze as if a giant hand had seized him in an iron grip. When his head swung toward the newcomer entering the room, the first thing he noticed were her eyes. Green, like the color of emeralds but the hardness of diamonds. Long, jet black hair was pulled back in a braid that swung over one shoulder. She was of medium height and slim build, though her white button-down shirt and black trousers didn’t hide the feminine curves underneath.
And then, something strange happened. Something that, as far as he could remember, had never happened before. His inner wolf perked up, and its attention fixed on her.
Who was this woman?

Chapter Two
Mika Westbrooke hadn’t even opened her eyes that morning when that dark heavy feeling came over her.
Today wasn’t going to be a good day. Most days were okay, some were good, some were bad, but she knew this particular day would be terrible.
She had stayed up the night before, willing herself not to sleep as if doing so would stop the inevitable. That somehow, if she never fell asleep, this day wouldn’t come. Exhaustion had come over her, and sleep eventually took over, which meant she had missed her alarm.
Any other day and she would have cursed and jumped out of bed, scrambling to get ready. But then again, any other day