Page 1 of Kiss My Sass

Prologue

Thor’s head pounded, and exhaustion filled his veins. He could hardly muster the strength to return the cheers and congratulations floating about the Pack House tonight.

It was always the same when the sight took over. Thor was present, but not. The tattoo he’d inked across Weylin’s body showed a promising future for the male and his newly awakened she-Wolf mate.

He was glad for Gwen and Weylin. Just as he was glad for his Alpha and Alpha fem. He’d even performed the ceremony, marrying the couple just minutes before Lucy and Derrick welcomed their three precious cubs into the world.

Tonight was a good night. Fuck yes, it was. But instead of being happy, Thor felt completely and utterly drained. He ducked out of the Pack House for some much needed quiet time, walking to the end of the paved lot that bumped up against some woods.

He still could not believe this was all theirs. Their bar, their house, their land. At first, when Derrick had suggested pooling their resources and settling down to establish roots, Thor had been uncertain. The Dire Wolf MC was built on the belief that their kind did better on the road.

Sure, there were different branches, and yes, they technically still belonged to the main MC, which was a human term for the motorcycle loving Shifters. Really, their MC was a Pack. An ancient, powerful Pack made up of prehistoric monsters like Thor, whose Dire Wolves needed the freedom of the road lest they be drawn into petty wars with other supernaturals.

It was the nature of the beast, he knew. Shifters, especially, were nothing if not predictable. Volatile creatures, they thrived on physical violence and the establishment of a hierarchy. Everyone wanted to be the toughest, strongest, and most lethal. Reputation was everything, and fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you saw it, the Dire Wolves had quite the rep for being badasses. Which made everyone and their motherfucking uncle want to challenge them.

So far, so good.

The Dire Wolves hadn’t had to deal with any threats, but that could also be because the Wolf world was blowing up left and right with the demand for a High Alpha. So involved in their own politics, the local Macconwood Pack Wolves had left the Dire Wolves to themselves. Their Alpha was a good male, a worthy male, and the one meeting they’d had established the fact he was uninterested in challenging Derrick for anything.

Settling down had been a good move on Derrick’s part. Perfect, really. Most of the Pack had paired up and Thor had his job to do. But nothing could fill the hole he felt inside him. Thor crouched down, trailing his fingers across the ground as he sucked in a long, deep breath.

Fuck. What a day.

SO much for being a Seer. Thor had no inkling his long time Pack mate and friend, Weylin, would come to him to perform their most sacred and ancient tattooing ritual. A good thing, for sure, but typically he had a clue when he was about to dive into the ether.

But the decision was not up to Thor. It was up to the Fates. This was the way it happened for their kind. When a Dire Wolf found his or her fated mate, it was up to the Pack Seer to convey the story of them on the Dire Wolf’s back.

Thor used special magicked ink gifted to their MC by friends of the Pack. It was the only kind strong enough to penetrate Dire Wolf skin, and bamboo pens to inscribe the picture as was given to him by the Spirits.

He was touched by the gods. One of the few Dire Wolves to inheritthe sight.He was the Seer. That meant it was Thor’s job to perform such duties. But communing with the spirit guides of their ancestors took its toll on him, and each time he went under, he felt the desire to return to the natural world lessen more and more.

If it wasn’t for his bonds to his Pack and Alpha, Thor might still be there in theother world, walking and talking amongst the ghosts of the past. He shivered involuntarily, looking up at the bright September moon.

The month was almost over, and soon fall would be in full effect. No more lazy summer nights and warm breezes. Fall and winter would be especially hard this year. He should know. His grandfather, Bjorn Ulger, had told him all about it on this recent visit with the old graybeard’s spirit.

Ghost wasn’t a term the deceased liked, and Thor knew better than to use it to describe the corporeally challenged. Bodies turned to dust, but spirits were eternal. If anything, Thor had that to comfort him.

Still, he rubbed his chest, the feeling of something coming heavy on his mind. Funny, really. He figured thesomething cominghad happened already. After he’d tattooed Weylin and subsequently passed out, Derrick’s mate, Lucy, had gone into labor.

Good thing Thor had bookmarked that webpage he’d seen on how to get your license to perform marriages in under ten minutes. Derrick had also done his part, getting the license ahead of time, knowing the fury of his mate if he failed to marry her before their cubs came into the world.

He grinned tiredly as he pictured a panting, grunting Lucy with tears in her eyes and a curse for her mate on her lips as he presented her with the document. She’d just had to sign then repeat after Thor, and bam! The two of them were married. A couple of hours later, three brand new cubs were born.

Three cubs. Three precious lives. Three girls.

Thor shook his head. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry for Derrick. The man was one lucky sonovabitch in his opinion. But of that feeling of some impending doom or greatness—it was still a toss-up which—hadn’t ebbed with the coming of the triplets.

“What is it?” he grumbled.

Asking his grandfather for help on this plane was pretty pointless, but he did it anyway, keeping his voice low and deep. Thor stood, knowing there were no answers incoming.

He turned away from the woods, about to head back to the House, to his room where he would spend yet another night tossing and turning in his big, empty bed. He paused. Frozen mid-step, Thor noticed something hurtling towards him from the sky.

“What the hell?”

The thing was small and dark and traveling unbelievably fast. He squinted, watching its progression before it nosedived a few hundred feet away. Thor didn’t know why, but he took off running towards the falling object. He had to get there, had to help.

It was a biological imperative. Thor growled, pulling on his Wolf’s strength to up his speed. He slid the last fifteen feet just in time to catch the thing before it could crash into the hard asphalt. He was out of breath, heart thundering, when he opened his big hands to see a giant black bird cradled against his body.

---