1 Chapter 1: Always a Rascal

Chapter 1: Always a Rascal

*A/N: This story takes place a week after the end of The Reluctant Alpha.*

Patch POV

His pursuer would not find him!

These hallways painted in sunset red and wolf black provided the perfect cover. Nobody, NOBODY would notice him with this color scheme.

Patch Cresta, fourth brother, and Intelligence Chief of the Evenhide Pack Cresta royal family, was the absolute master of stealth, even outmatching the lord of the house where he hid.

His deep oak-brown eyes scanned the area. No sign of his hunter in the empty hallway. With the Alpha Gathering going on and the construction of the elevator, Patch could escape notice in the crowd, but in the empty hallway, he had to find cover.

Most people who wanted to hide would duck into a closet. Hah! Closets weren’t that secure. If the staff at Sinsworth House opened the door to get something, they’d see Patch, especially with the owners’ obsessive neatness. Besides, he might stumble into the open elevator shaft where the Crimsontails were building an orc-style elevator.

Under a table? No. Even though he had the advantage of barely coming up to his bigger and older brothers’ chests and being overlooked, a skilled hunter could sniff him out. A human hunter could, for Moon Goddess’ sake, and the human sense of smell was dull. No, under a table or a desk wouldn’t work. Besides, the Beta, Barrett Malone, was an expert hunter who could spot a brown hare sitting in a brown tree.

What about the tower? No. He couldn’t get there quickly. Why had he spent so much time picking the perfect place to hide from his pursuer?

Luckily, a whiff of his pursuer’s scent warned him not to make a break for the tower. Berries. He grinned, flattening himself against the wall near a statue of the Moon Goddess.

He hoped the Goddess Selene would forgive the error of his ways last week when he’d had a little too much of the dwarf root beer and bounced all over the walls in his sugar-fueled hyperactive state. He’d knocked one of her paintings to the floor. No damage, thank goodness, or his big brother Kyon, the too-modest painter of the portrait, would kick his tail from here to the wood elf groves in the north. Having met the wood elves during the Alpha Gathering this past week, he wouldn’t mind being thrown into their territory…

“OOF!”

His chaser pounced on him, and he dove to the ground just in time, hitting the spotless wooden floor, still smelling of the lemon oil the staff used to clean it. Rolling, he escaped the giggles and hugs that sought to wrap him up in sweetness.

“I’ve got you,” seven-year-old Selene Mena Lusignan shouted. “You Evenhiders are soft!”

“What about the Crimsontail Alpha?” he panted, thinking of his older brother Jiro. “He’s an Evenhider, you know.”

Jiro. Pack Alpha. If you grew up with Jiro, you knew that those two words went together like trolls and ballet dancing.

“He’s a Crimsontail now! You’re outnumbered.”

“Not for long,” Patch laughed, rolling out of reach of her small hands, so expert at hugging and grabbing berries in the kitchen. He rolled and rolled …

CRASH.

Someone else went down with an “OOF,” a VERY unladylike curse, a shower of hot washcloths that flew every which way, and a swirl of his favorite scent, seawater. He’d always been fascinated by the ocean.

“Anneliese! Moon Goddess, I’m so sorry.”

A groan and a grumble answered him. Of all the sounds he wanted to hear from beautiful, sophisticated witch Anneliese Chalice, those were not at the top of his list.

Selene gasped, full of worry. “We’re in trouble!”

“Don’t tell the Alpha, the Luna, or your mom and dad,” Patch muttered, getting up.

He did NOT want to get on the bad side of Selene’s new daddy, Aardwolf Lusignan, who Patch had shared enforcer and border duty with, and who was now on his brother Jiro’s personal security detail. These days Aardwolf sported a big smile that could turn frightening in a second. Even worse was Selene’s mother Sarina Mena Lusignan, the Crimsontail Shadows housekeeper. She could brain someone with her copper skillet and then take them down in wolf form.

And he really didn’t want to see Jiro’s disapproving look, even though he thought Jiro’s incredible Luna, Garnet, had dulled that somewhat. Patch and his brothers liked to tease Jiro that his death stare was more like a paper-cut stare these days … unless you were an enemy.

He shrank from Anneliese’s glare as she looked up at him with startling blue eyes, but he still reached out a hand and helped her up.

“Sorry, you had further to fall than I did,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “Are you alright? Lucky that this happened outside the Healing Wing.”

Anneliese brushed her disheveled pink hair out of her eyes, which simmered like a pot of seawater. “You do know people are trying to heal in there.”

“Right, that’s why they named it the Healing Wing,” Patch said, feeling his tongue move like lead. “Are you alright, Annie?”

Hearing his nickname for her, she blushed bright pink. It suited her lovely oval-shaped face and full, soft cheeks. A too-thin nose, full lips, and wide-set eyes made a striking portrait that people, especially men, made excuses to gaze at.

Anneliese’s breathing slowed down. “I’m fine, Spot. Being tall, I know how to land when knocked down. But YOU are late.”

Selene tugged at Anneliese’s hand, her eyes round with worry. “Am I in trouble? Is Mister Patch in trouble?”

Just like that, Anneliese’s blue eyes calmed, becoming serene reflecting pools. “Oh, no, my heart. You’re not in trouble in the least. Things have been tense lately and I’m so happy you can relax and have some fun, but now I need to talk to Mr. Patch, who’s NOT in trouble.”

Anneliese looked like some high society lady, but she had a soft spot for children and what Patch’s late parents Lucina and Jericho would call class. She was, after all, the best friend of Patch’s sister-in-law, Lilia Rolfe Cresta.

With a doubtful expression, Selene stared up at Patch. “We’re not in trouble?”

He wrapped his arm around Anneliese, thinking that Selene was every bit as smart for her age as Jiro and Garnet said. “No, we’re not. Anneliese and I play hide and seek all the time, don’t we?”

The feel of her body against his and that magical smile made him weak in the knees.

* * *

Anneliese POV

Patch Cresta was charming. Infuriatingly, undeniably, irresistibly charming, and so good with this little shifter girl. But then, he was a big pup himself at times, and he had grown up with a younger brother.

Anneliese Chalice of Wildefell, daughter of Head Witch of the Wildefell Witch Circle Edna Chalice, had wished for a brother or sister. She’d gotten one in her best friend Lilia.

And she loved children. Patch might have created a mess, as he did wherever he went, but she was damned if she was going to be the scowling stern adult who threatened to hex children that didn’t put their brooms away properly. She’d met a few of those, although most witches and wizards would NEVER use magic to threaten children because it could cause the children to hate magic … or worse, make them hex the adults in return.

She smiled at Selene, playing along with Patch’s attempt to smooth things over and soothe the child. It was d*mn creative, she had to admit. She turned a blinding smile on Patch. “But I won the last two times. Then again, I am a witch.”

“But we said no hiding with magic.”

“We also said no wolf form, but I saw your fluffy butt disappearing when I got too close to your hiding spot.”

“Guilty,” Patch said, sheepish.

It sounded like so much fun Anneliese wished it actually happened.

A knowing look came over Selene’s face and she doubled over in a fit of giggles, then sang, “I know a secret! I know a secret about you two!”

Patch coughed and kicked a pile of hot cloths. “Oh! If we don’t pick these up, we’ll be in trouble with your mother.” He squatted and gathered armfuls of the warm washcloths, gasping. “I bet I can clean these up first, even with the heating spell you used.”

“I can help!” Selene knelt down and scooped up the hot washcloths patterned with the Crimsontail national plant, the holly.

Anneliese joined in the cleanup and before long all three of them stood with armfuls of still-hot fabric. “Patch won,” Selene cheered.

Anneliese thrust the washcloths into Patch’s arms and Selene did the same. “Yes, he did, and as a prize, he gets to carry these into the Healing Wing and help us with the patients,” Anneliese said with a smug grin.

Selene paled, a thought striking her. “Does that mean … HIM?”

Anneliese and Patch knew whom she meant, and Patch’s face twisted in an ugly snarl.

Hearing the child’s worry and fear. Anneliese’s heart squeezed and she knelt down to hug Selene. “Yes, it does, because he needs our help,” she whispered.

Selene’s words came out muffled. “But why? Why do you have to help him?”

A question she’d like answered. However, she knew the answer. She just wished she didn’t agree with it in this case. Neither did Patch, which made her more inclined to say to h*ll with the orders her own mother Edna, Ravyn, Lilia, and Jiro had given her.

Anneliese stroked the shining brown hair. “I know he hurt your friends and family, and mine too, but he was hurt, and he needs our help, and so does Wise Woman Tulaska.”

Selene sniffled and wriggled away. “Do I have to help him?”

Anneliese sighed. “Oh, that’s a big question. What do you think?”

“I think I’m thirsty and I want a snack.” Selene hugged Anneliese, then tackled Patch’s ankles, and scampered off down the hall.

Anneliese smiled fondly at him. “Patch Cresta, it’s a good thing you’re impossibly charming, especially with children.”

With a glowing face, Patch grinned at her. “That was interesting. Asking her what she thinks about Mr. Sleepy Villain.”

Anneliese scowled. “What would you have me do, tell her to hate him? How is that going to help anybody?"

“She already knows he did bad things! YOU know he did bad things.”

“Yes, and you know what the Witch Circle and your brother and all the Alphas decided.” She nodded at the hot washcloths in his arms. “Tulaska’s shivering from the healing work. And we have a duty of care to Cyran.”

There. She said his name. Cyran, the hated ex-Alpha of the Crimsontail Shadows Pack, who had committed some of the worst crimes a shifter could commit. Including harassing Lilia and Lilia’s mother Ravyn, and then kidnapping Lilia, just for a start. A demon influencing him and controlling him didn’t change her disgust for the man.

He gave her a deep soulful gaze that turned his eyes the color of the dwarf coffee that Jiro, Garnet, and everyone else were obsessed with. “You have Fenrir’s own guts asking her that question. Dane would just grumble because he wouldn’t want to have the kid hate Cyran, but he doesn’t want to say, ‘Oh, let’s coddle him.’”

“Is THAT what you think I’m doing after what he did to my best friend and her mate? Are you going to help me with him or not?”

Patch puffed out his chest. “As long as Mr. Sleepy stays asleep, I can tolerate helping him.” He hurried toward the Healing Wing. “Hot washcloths, coming right up.”

Anneliese shook her head. Patch Cresta was a distraction. A wonderful, maddening whirlwind of a distraction. She had to stay focused on her healing, no matter what.