Untouchable: Wolf Kings of Twilight, #1

By S. J. West

Outcast. Undesirable. Human.

I've been called all these things by the members of the two wolf packs who rule my world because I'm an oddity- a pure blood human. As a child, only the leader of the Thieves Guild was willing to take me in after my grandmother died, and I've spent my entire life using the skills he taught to become his most reliable thief.
 

When the wolf packs discover that their bloodlines are losing the ability to shift from wolf to human, I suddenly become a prize worth fighting over. The only problem is I'm cursed. No one can touch me unless I want them to. If they try, the strange spell surrounding me begins to leech their life-force, killing them if they don't release their hold. What I once viewed as an affliction is now my greatest weapon.

 

Now, the two warring kingdoms need me to preserve their humanity, and I have two alphas vying for the right to call me his queen.

Damon, the king of the midnight pack who rule the day as humans and shift into their wolf forms at nightfall, is known to be ruthless, cruel, and selfish, but if he truly wants me to rule by his side, he'll have to show me that he's more than just a tyrant.

Simon, the king of the dawn pack who rule the night as humans and shift into wolves at the breaking of dawn, is charming to the point of distraction, but behind those bright blue eyes and easy grin lurks a secret that might just undo us all.

Each man may want to claim me as his, but they'll have to try and win my heart first.

 

Good luck with that…

• Language: English
• Publisher: S. J. West
• Release date: Apr 13, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224338450

Book preview

Storms rarely enter the world with a whimper. From birth, they are wild and ravaging. Their wind lashes out at all and their lightning strikes with no rhyme or reason. Their mother, the sky, sits back and watches her child’s tantrum because even she knows a storm cannot be contained. Its life is short and turbulent yet necessary in order for things on the earthly plane to grow and flourish.

As an old woman crossed the street, lightning flashed, revealing the precious cargo she had cradled to her breasts underneath her tattered cloak. The babe remained eerily silent as the woman scurried down a dark alleyway. She rapped her knuckles against a wooden door at the rear of a local tavern and patiently waited for an answer.

A man, burly and bearded, yanked the door open. He peered at the woman with clear suspicion as he wiped his hands on the apron tied around his thick waist. The smell of alcohol wafted from the interior and the sounds of late-night revelry could be heard. The citizens of Dawn were enjoying the last few hours of their human time before the rising sun transformed them into wolves.

What the hell are you doing out here on a night like this, Mabel? the tavern owner asked gruffly.

It’s time for you to pay back the life debt you owe me, Boris.

Mabel’s voice was weak. Even in the dim light, Boris could tell his old friend was close to death. Her skin was pale and her eyes bloodshot. If she lived to see the next sunrise, he would say she’s lucky.

Resigned to his fate, Boris asked the only question he could.

What is it that you want from me?

Mabel stepped forward and parted her cloak to reveal the child cradled in her arms.

I need you to take care of her.

Boris peered at the baby with open disdain.

For how long? he grumbled.

Until she’s old enough to take care of herself.

Are you insane? Boris yelled, his voice boomed as loud as the thunder outside. I can’t raise a child! I wouldn’t even know where to start.

You have no choice. Mable thrust the babe into Boris’s arms. The moment I saved your life, it was mine to do with what I wished. This is the way I have chosen for you to live your life, and you cannot refuse me.

Boris clumsily held the baby against his chest. There has to be some woman who can take care of her. It’s sure folly to leave a baby with me!

She needs you. Mabel turned away as a fit of coughing overtook her. Once she regained her breath, she looked back at Boris. Take care of her. She may hold the key to our salvation.

With those words, Mabel turned her back to Boris and stepped into the storm’s fury.

What is that supposed to mean? Boris yelled after her to no avail. Mabel had already turned the corner, leaving him with the unexpected responsibility of fatherhood.

Boris looked down at the girl he held and shook his head.

Mark my words, little one. This will not end well for either of us.

Despite his prophecy of doom, the baby smiled, making the surly tavern owner snort in amusement.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Boris reached for the door and slowly began to close it, beginning a story that would forever change their world.

Chapter One

Words are one of mankind’s cruelest weapons. They can cut deeper than any knife, drive a sane person to the brink of insanity, and even kill if applied at just the right time in someone’s life. They can make a powerful person feel worthless and a weak person feel treasured. Words rule the world even when spoken in a whisper. People have used this seemingly innocuous weapon against me all my life, forcing me to develop a thick skin against their derision and surround my heart with a shield born from fire. The people of my world detest me for what I am, but the joke’s on them. After twenty-one years of their ridicule, I no longer care what they think of me. There’s only one person who can hurt me with his words, and I know he would never use his against me.

Ivy, are you listening to me?

I slip my dagger into the belted leather sheath around my exposed thigh.

Why do you always take that thing with you? Boris asks, watching me from the wingback chair by the window in my bedroom. Isn’t it a bit pointless?

When I stand up straight to examine my appearance in the full-length mirror, the split in my red chiffon skirt disappears, hiding the weapon from sight. I stare at my reflection. Dresses really aren’t my thing, but tonight is a special occasion. The ball at the palace will give me the one thing I’ve been denied, access into King Simon’s inner sanctum.

I’ve had to hide my trademark red hair underneath a blonde wig to help conceal my identity from those in attendance. Unfortunately, everyone in Dawn knows me as the redheaded outcast. I’m the worthless human they love to ridicule because I can’t transform into a wolf at sunrise. In their eyes, I’m forced to live a half-life because I’m not a part of their pack.

Screw them. I’m perfectly fine with the fact that I don’t change into some crotch sniffing mongrel when the sun comes up. Who the hell wants to be forced to crouch down on all fours and fight off an infestation of fleas? Not me.

Ivy . . .

I peer at Boris’s reflection in the mirror. The old man has aged well over the years. His once brown hair has turned gray, but his portly belly has remained the same. Anytime he laughs, it jiggles like jelly. From the tales he’s told me, he once owned a tavern in town, but when he took me in after my grandmother died, he decided raising a child in such a place wasn’t a good idea.

He sold the tavern and opened an antique shop. Truth be told, the shop is really a front for his real business. Boris trades priceless artifacts for gold coins, and tonight, we’re after one of the most precious pieces of jewelry in Dawn, the Queen’s Circlet. It’s said to hold mysterious magical properties, but on this evening, that isn’t why it’s so valuable.

Dawn has no queen at the moment. We did. We had a beautiful one named Sophia, but her title and marriage was dissolved the moment she gave birth to the prince. His cursed birth caused her to lose everything, including the love and devotion of her husband. Tonight, King Simon is searching for a new wife, and apparently, our king hopes to find his new queen at a special ball he’s hosting at the palace.

You need to be careful tonight, Boris says, shaking his head at my choice of attire. That dress is sure to bring attention to you, and that’s the last thing you need. Why not choose something else to wear? I have a black dress downstairs that should fit you.

The one your cronies stole from the palace in Midnight? I scoff. I’ll pass on that one. It smells like mothballs and aged whiskey.

Boris chuckles. His eyes light up with amusement. Who raised you to be such a smart-ass?

The king of smart-asses. I turn around to face him and curtsy. All hail the king.

If I’m the king, I suppose that makes you the princess, he jokes.

Undoubtedly. I smooth out my skirt. This gown will make me blend in with all the other hopefuls tonight. I can assure you, red will be the most worn color at the ball because all the single women there will want to attract the notice of the king.

Boris looks pointedly at the long V-shaped décolletage of my dress. Are they all showing off their breasts in such an unholy fashion?

I never took you for a prude.

At least wear a shawl.

I cross my arms. No. I’m already wearing the wig and all this makeup on my face to make myself look different. A shawl will only attract more attention to me, and I think you’ll agree that the less attention I attract the better. Besides, this dress may play a role in my escape plan. You know that.

Which I also don’t care for, he huffs. Why do you have to be so dramatic on your heists?

Because that’s part of the fun for me. You used to like my flair for the dramatic. What’s up? Why are you so worried about tonight?

Boris sighs heavily, closes his eyes, and rubs them with the heels of his hands. When he looks back at me, I swear he just aged a year in those few seconds.

I have a bad feeling about tonight. Maybe we should call it off. It’s not like we need the money. We do rather well with the antique business, don’t you think? Maybe it’s time we stop stealing. You’re not getting any younger. Don’t you want to start a family of your own?

Have you forgotten who I am? I ask, simultaneously feeling amused and angry. Even if I could be touched by another man besides you, no one in their right mind would want to marry me. Or has your old brain become so addled that you don’t remember I’m only the poor human you got stuck raising?

You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Boris stands from his chair and walks over to me. He takes my hands with his. His brown eyes are so earnest all I can do is believe every word he utters next. I may not have known it the night your grandmother gave you to me, but I know it now. Without you, I would have simply been sleepwalking through my life, not knowing the joy and pride of fatherhood. You mean more to me than my own life, Ivy. There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you or give you. If having a family of your own is what you want, I’ll do everything within my power to make that happen. Even if it means going through the Barrens myself to find you a husband.

I want to laugh, but I don’t think he’s joking.

Instead, I grab hold of the front of his sweater with both hands. Don’t you dare step foot inside the Barrens. You’ll never come back out. No one does. I’ve even heard tales of cannibals living in that wasteland. The last thing I need is for you to bring me back a man who will literally eat me alive. I have enough problems without adding that to the list.

Boris squeezes my hands lightly. People here are just jealous of you. None of us really want to change into wolves every day, and none of us want to end up like our poor little prince.

I let go of his sweater. I hate to admit it, but I feel sorry for him. Why do you think he was born in his wolf form and can’t change into a human at all?

Boris shrugs. I don’t know exactly, but I’ve heard rumors that the prince isn’t the only child born recently who can’t transform.

Really? This is the first I’ve heard of other cubs unable to switch to their human form. What do you think that means?

Too much inbreeding? Boris jokes. He tries to smile, but it doesn’t quite work. Some say that each generation has been losing more and more of its humanity. If this is any indication, I would have to agree with that assessment. In a few more generations, Dawn may only be populated by wolves.

What about Midnight? Do you think the Midnight pack is having the same problem?

I’ve heard that it is, but those are just rumors, he says with a shrug. There are fewer traders going between Dawn and Midnight this year since the Issip River is so high. The lowlands are flooded, and the ferry has only been making one trip a month. A lot of traders are seeing dwindling profits since they only have one day of twilight hours to make trades with the other pack.

The twilight hours between six and seven each morning and night are considered magical. It’s the only times of day that both the Dawn and Midnight packs are simultaneously in their human forms and can communicate with one another.

Well, I can’t honestly say I care if either pack loses the ability to transform. I’ll be dead and gone by the time that happens. Besides, the only person I want to talk to is you. The rest of them can go to hell for all I care.

I walk over to my vanity table and powder my prosthetic nose one last time. To ensure no one recognizes me at the ball, Boris applied the fake nose and found me some contacts to change my eye color from blue to brown. I still look all right, just not the same.

If you’re not back here within the hour, he says, watching me touch up my makeup. I’m coming in after you. Understand?

I place my powder brush back on the vanity and turn to face him.

You worry too much, old man. When have you ever known me to fail a mission?

Never, but you usually do this sort of thing while everyone here is in wolf form. This is the first time you’ve ever tried to steal something while we’re all human.

It’s the only time the circlet will be out of the vault. I still can’t believe King Simon plans to display it at the ball. Talk about cruel. I thought it was bad enough that he divorced his wife after the prince was born, but to take away her crown and then make her his royal mistress? That’s a new low if you ask me. If I was her, I would take my son and leave the king. No one should put up with being treated that way.

He’s doing what he believes to be right for the kingdom. Obviously, his son will never be able to rule. He’s basically just an animal at this point.

Still, Queen Sophia has to feel betrayed.

Lady Sophia, Boris corrects. For the love of God, don’t call her the queen while you’re there.

Even if I did, I doubt I would be the only one who slipped up. She only lost her title three months ago. Do you really think he’ll force her to go to the ball? That seems harsh even for the king.

Apparently, he wants her there to show support for his plan to find a new wife. Boris shrugs, telling me that he doesn’t quite understand the reasoning either. Don’t worry about the queen. She can take care of herself. Just worry about stealing the circlet and getting the hell out of there in one piece, please.

I hold my hand to my temple and give Boris a salute. Yes, sir! Anything you say, sir!

Boris scrunches up his face, not finding my joke all that amusing.

Be careful. Don’t risk your life for some trinket. If things look like they’re going south, drop everything you’re doing and run. Do you understand me? I won’t lose you for a circlet of gold.

Gold and diamonds, I remind him. Big, beautiful diamonds that will feed us for the rest of our lives.

You’re the only diamond I need in my life.

I groan my discomfort.

What? he asks. Too sappy?

Way too sappy. My teeth literally hurt it was so sweet. I walk over to my bedroom door and turn the knob. I’ll be back before the hour is up. Go to the kitchen and make me something that’s actually sweet. You know I always get hungry after a job.

I open the door with Boris following my lead out.

What do you want this time? he asks. My famous brownies à la mode or my lemon pound cake?

Brownies. I’m in a chocolate mood.

Brownies it is then, he says, closing the door behind us.

We make our way down the stairs to the heart of our antique shop. Boris walks me out the front door and warns me one last time to be careful. I wave his warning off as I start down the street leading to the palace.

Darkness lights a match in our city, bringing it back to life. The streets of Dawn are lit by gas lamppost. The sound of horse drawn carriages fill the air while songs of merriment drift on the wind from the local taverns. The people here enjoy the time they have to be human to the fullest by drinking, eating, and having sex the normal way before they’re forced to walk on all fours again and succumb to their wolves.

No one remembers a time when the people of both Dawn and Midnight didn’t turn into their respective wolf forms at dusk and dawn, but there are tales that such a time existed once, long ago in a forgotten past that no one can remember.

Almost five hundred years ago, the people of the world woke up without any memory of who they were, where they came from, or how they ended up where they lay. That period of our history is called the Great Divide. The old cities were in ruins and quickly abandoned. New ones were erected near the Issip River to accommodate their new lives. The kingdoms of both Dawn and Midnight came into being, forever dividing the people of our world by night and day.

As I approach the palace, the lilting notes from an orchestra can be heard even before you pass the outer gates. Women from all over Dawn have come here tonight in the hopes of capturing the king’s favor. I’m probably the only one in attendance who hopes King Simon keeps his distance from me. The last thing I need is for him to take an interest. Even if I wasn’t who I am, I wouldn’t want to become the king’s new conquest. From what I’ve heard, the next woman he marries has to bear him a child first and prove that she can give birth to a normal son.

Normal.

Such a simple word but with so many different meanings. From my point of view, none of us are normal, least of all the people of this city, including me.

Walking into the palace is a bit surreal. Usually, you have to be given special permission to even enter, but tonight, the doors have been thrown wide open for all to enter and join the party. While scanning the grand entryway, I notice my prediction about the color red being a popular choice is greater than I could have imagined. If a woman isn’t wearing red, she’s wearing purple or white. Some of the ladies in attendance are more than twice my age. I can only assume they’re here for the free alcohol and food. There’s no way King Simon is going to choose someone whose time to conceive children is so limited.

A waiter passes by with a tray full of crystal flute glasses filled with sparkling pink champagne. I grab one and make my way to the center of the palace where the music is coming from so I can get lost in the crowd. I’ll have to wait for the king to show off the prize of the night, the gold and diamond circlet. Rumor has it that he’ll present it to the ladies gathered as an incentive to win his favor. The woman he places the circlet on at the end of the night will become his lover, and possibly the next queen of Dawn.

If the king ever placed it on my head, I would view it as a death sentence or at the very least an invitation to a very lavish prison. Boris may believe I want to marry one day and have a family, but he couldn’t be more wrong. I don’t want to raise a child of mine in this world. In fact, it would have been a kindness if my grandmother had drowned me at birth. Instead, I got to endure years of jeers and ridicule from the people of this town for merely being human. Life isn’t worth living if you can’t find true happiness, and that’s the one emotion that’s always eluded me.

By force of will alone, I push away thoughts about my past and concentrate on the here and now.

The courtyard is as opulent as you would expect on palace grounds: large and filled with expensive items that only a king could afford. Of course, he’s only able to pay for it all by taxing his citizens, but no one ever seems to remember that small detail while they’re enjoying food and wine on the king’s tab.

I can’t prevent a snicker when I see the theme for this particular shindig. Circus performers dressed in sequined outfits traipse through the crowded affair performing their various acts. There’s a sword swallower, a lion tamer with an actual lion on a leash, a pair of trapeze artist performing death defying acts above it all, and a pair of trained elephants satisfying the crowd with their synchronized act like stringed puppets. If there was ever a more apt theme for a party, I’ve never seen one.

Trumpets blare announcing the arrival of someone important. All eyes turn to the second-floor balcony on the side of the palace where King Simon himself walks out waving to the crowd. His look, his walk, even his wave shows an arrogance that is beyond my understanding. With silky blond hair that reaches just past his shoulders and bright blue eyes that pierce the night, our king stands tall in his black velvet long coat and vest with intricate silver embroidery. To say King Simon is handsome is an understatement. To say that he knows how his good looks affect women is just a fact.

Good evening, friends! he shouts to the partygoers.

Someone in the crowd starts a chant of Hail, King Simon that most everyone, with the exception of me, feels obligated to follow. Of course, our king’s ego laps it up, but he has the good graces to appear