Savage Possessed: A Reverse Harem Urban Fantasy Adventure (Twin Rivers Possession Book 2)

by September Stone

  Savage Possessed

  Twin Rivers Possession #2

  September Stone

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Copyright © 2018 September Stone, LLC

  Cover Art by Amina Black of EightBase Design

  All rights reserved.

  First Edition: March 2019

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  For information:

  www.septemberstone.com

  For Jason Momoa

  Thank you for the shirtless inspiration.

  Chapter One

  Sophie

  “Five more minutes,” Hagan mumbles into my cleavage. His gruff, low voice sends tremors into my breasts. His lips are my alarm clock, full and perpetually framed by just enough scruff to make me want to study his face up close.

  Carrigan’s hand on my hip slides between Hagan and me. He has this thing about palming my abdomen. It’s not covetous exactly, but there’s a glimmer of possessiveness to his touch that warms me. I belong to him, sure, but he belongs to me. When he kisses the nape of my neck, I can tell he’s been awake for a while, but remained in the bed to get in just a little more snuggle time. “Good morning, Sophie Mae,” he whispers.

  “Morning, Cary. Your bed is laced with some sort of intoxicant; I’m sure of it. I slept like a rock last night.”

  “Our bed,” he corrects me. “And I’m glad to hear it. We’ll be camping for the next week or so. Enjoy first-world accommodations while you can.”

  I turn to kiss Carrigan, which sends Hagan’s face into the pillow. I’ve learned that’s the fastest way to wake him up. My favorite shifter is used to working until four in the morning at the bar and sleeping until noon. We’ve been living in Carrigan’s gorgeous ranch for a week now while Hagan heals from the terrible beating he endured from his recently-deceased boss.

  Where Hagan’s face is bristly, Carrigan’s is smooth. He always tastes like he’s been sucking on mints, even first thing in the morning. I don’t know how he does it. He chuckles against my lips at Hagan’s grumbling as we slowly wake each other up. “Taking your breasts away from Hagan is the only way to coax him out of bed.”

  I snigger airily through my nose and then stretch against him like a cat. “Tell me we have weeks before we have to go looking for Elowen.” Though, as I say this, I know we’ve tested Mother’s patience by waiting this long.

  Carrigan’s hand under the covers dips beneath the hem of my tank top, teasing my rib cage like he’s stroking the strings of a harp just to make it sing for him. It’s easy to sing for Cary, who makes everything effortless with his straightforward, logical way that’s dipped in kindness. He brushes his fingers over my stomach; he’s always finding reasons to touch me there. “We have an hour at most, and then we’re off into the woods to find Elowen,” he reminds me, bringing the room more starkly into focus. “Hagan’s back on his feet enough to handle a trek through the woods finally.”

  The trio of beige-painted walls contrasts nicely with the one wine-colored wall, all framed in light wood trim. It reminds me of Carrigan—serious and well-constructed.

  Hagan’s lidded eyes follow me as I climb out of the bed and fish out freshly-washed clothes. I lay them atop the spare dresser Cary bought and had moved in the day we made his home our address for the foreseeable future. I use the top drawer, and my entire stack of belongings doesn’t even fill half the space. Hagan takes up the rest of the drawers, filling it with ripped jeans, t-shirts that swallowed my form, and brand-new cotton boxers—navy blue with white pinstripes. It’s a small oddity that I find endearing—that all his underwear match and are spanking new. I’ve never been with a man who cared that much about his underthings.

  It was only a week ago that we moved out of the luxurious Twin Heights hotel and into Carrigan’s five-bedroom home that’s set on an acre of gorgeous grasslands. It’s such a short time to already fall into a routine, but the whole thing is so natural that part of me feels like we’ve been living like this for years.

  I’m too comfortable here. I shouldn’t be this attached to the guys, to the bed, to it all. My plan was to get Elowen to take away my magic so I can move back to Kentucky. I don’t belong in Twin Rivers, yet here I am, with my things sitting in a dresser.

  I slip into the shower and wash up, careful not to take up too much hot water before I shut off the spray and step out to fold the plush maroon towel around my figure. The guys are diligent in giving me space in the bathroom, since I have precious little of it everywhere else. We’re all aware of the precarious dance we’re wrapped up in and how easily it can all fall apart. So when Valor glides into the bathroom he certainly has not been invited to, I squeak out my surprise. “What are you doing in here?”

  My vampire makes a show of turning his back to my towel-clad form. “Cops are here. They’re asking questions. You and I are to stay in the bathroom, quiet as we can.” He flicks off the light and finds me easily in the dark, lacing his fingers through mine.

  My body goes from relaxed to taut as a fiddle’s string when the black accompanies the gruff voices coming from the living room. I can’t make out the words from where we are, but none of the murmured tones sound all that friendly. My heart pounds so loudly, I’m certain the police can hear its guilty rhythm.

  Sophie Mae: murderer. My harried confessions come out in a whisper. “I killed the workers at The Sage Spa! It was me, not Hagan and Cary! They won’t understand that Mother told me to do it. If they lock me up, Mother will be angry. I don’t know what she’ll do to them if they keep me from finding Elowen! They probably have families!”

  Valor draws so close, I can feel his breath on my nose. “They’re not asking about The Sage Spa. That was ruled as a witch’s experiment gone wrong, resulting in a deadly explosion. They’re here about Louis.”

  Guilt floods my features; I know I have no one to blame for that but myself. “I did it,” I confess, though Valor already knows as much. “I killed Louis because he hurt Hagan.”

  Valor’s hand covers my mouth as he backs me up to the wall. My shoulders press to the steamed surface as he leans in to tickle the shell of my ear with his lips. “Quiet, young one. I’ll not see you imprisoned for taking out Twin Rivers’ trash. The police should be thanking you for disposing of the Alpha of that horrid pack. They’ve committed more crimes than you could ever dream of. How man
y people do you think Louis has made disappear in the same fashion in which you found Hagan?” He lifts my trembling hand to rest on his chest. “You will stay with me and let the police do a good show of pretending they care about finding Louis’ murderer.”

  His stomach presses to mine, and I’m wildly aware that I’m wearing only a towel. “What if they take Hagan in? What if they take Cary in? I can’t let them take the blame for what I did.”

  “Let’s not worry about that now. If it comes to that, I’ll take your place. No one would bat an eye, believing I killed Louis. Vampires loathe shifters, the filthy beasts.” His tone changes to repentance. “Excluding Hagan, of course.”

  My intake of breath is so loud that I wince. “Don’t you dare do that for me. I killed Louis, not you. Besides, if you’re in prison, you’ll be without a conscience because we’ll be separated. That won’t do the world a lick of good.”

  He kisses my cheek so gently that my knees weaken. “Same goes for if you turn yourself in. I guess we’re quite stuck then, aren’t we. We’ll wait it out, young one. Hagan can handle this, and Cary’s reputation is spotless.”

  My body tenses again when I hear Carrigan’s voice get louder. He’s not yelling exactly, but he’s upset.

  Valor’s arm coils around my waist, arching my breasts closer to him. I don’t mean for my eyes to close when he buries his nose in the crook of my neck, but the darkness acts like a free pass, hiding the heat that’s growing at the worst possibly time. He inhales so deeply, my legs nearly go out from beneath me. My hand climbs up from his chest to grip his collar—a scared moment turning far more animal than I anticipated.

  When his lips pucker on the juncture between my shoulder and my neck, my core floods with a delicious longing that only seems to fuel his own growing fire for the darkness, and all that it promises.

  I’m panting with need but I don’t know what to ask for. Do I want space? Do I want infinitely more of this? I’m so turned around that I submit to the pinpricks of desire he laces into my skin with every kiss.

  When Valor grips my thigh and slides his hand slowly upward, I don’t have it in me to stop him. His hand freezes inches from where my wetness sings for him, and I nearly whimper with unquenched need. “Oh, young one. The things I would do if you were mine. But since you’re not, I’ll just…” Valor takes my arms and loops them around his neck. Then his hands find a more chaste position on my body and coil around my waist. He kisses my forehead, and my lady parts throw a fit that the grand finale has been cut short.

  Then he steps back from me altogether, his whispers filled with worry. “I shouldn’t have done that. Apologies. I’m new to having a conscience. I don’t know what to do with it all the time.”

  I reach for his hand, respecting the canyon of space between our bodies. “It was my fault, Valor. We’re okay.”

  It’s far too many minutes before the front door shuts and Cary opens the bathroom door, flicking on the lights. “They’re gone. I don’t think they’ll be back. The questions were half-hearted at best. I think they’ll rule on the side of one of Louis’ many enemies, rather than us, who have no known fights with him.”

  I throw myself into his arms. “I was so scared for you!”

  Cary kisses me, and I love every second of it. Tasting relief on his lips is just about the best thing for this situation. We’re blocking the exit, so Valor just stands there and watches until I have the manners to pull away and cast him an apologetic look. “Sorry, Valor.”

  “Not at all. We should go, though, yes?”

  Carrigan nods. “Sooner rather than later. Come on, Valor. Let’s give Sophie Mae a minute to miss us.”

  Relief is mingling with the angst that hasn’t fully fled my system yet. Still, I do my best to hurry. I dry off, brush my teeth, put all my hastily-purchased toiletries back in the small plastic bag where I keep everything stored, and sweep it all into my backpack so as not to take up too much space. I move into the bedroom, kissing Cary to let him know it’s his turn in the shower. He grips the knot where my towel is tied around my breasts, reminding us both that the need for more is growing between us.

  My skin flushes with heat, but I know we don’t have time for all we’d like to do to each other. He stands, looking down on me with a smirk that warns me I’m about to get good and kissed.

  Fine by me. It’s the greatest kind of morning—the ones that start with lips, caresses, and the tease of a tongue. When we pull away, there’s a kindling heat I’m hoping will never go out. I love that Hagan watches us contentedly from his place in the bed where he’s warming up under the comforter.

  I glance at the dresser for my jeans, underwear, teal bra, and lavender v-neck cotton t-shirt but my brows furrow when my eyes fall on empty space. “Did I take my clothes into the bathroom? I thought I left them just there. Huh.”

  Hagan sits up in the bed and hands me my clothes. They aren’t on the dresser, but somehow ended up tucked under the covers with him. He keeps his eyes from me, so I know he’s embarrassed. I quirk my eyebrow at Carrigan, who acts as my translator when Hagan goes into silent mode.

  “He’s worried about our trip into the woods, so he wanted to lay on your clothes for a little while to get his scent on them.” When my frown shows them that this makes little sense to me, Cary continues, his hand rubbing soothing circles over my abdomen. “It’s a shifter thing they do when their mate might be around predators.”

  Before I can think through my words, I say, “But we’re not mated.”

  Hagan stands, reminding me just how enormous he is. I’m five-foot-seven, but he makes me feel like a gangly pre-teen, craning my neck to take in the scope of his wide shoulders and burly arms. His hand is gentle when he pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Yet,” he says like a warning. “We’re not mated yet, but that doesn’t matter. You’re mine, honeycomb. I won’t chance anything coming too near you that shouldn’t. I haven’t shifted in over a week.” He rolls his shoulders as if appreciating them anew. I wonder the toll it’s been taking on his body to shift into a bear every time he gets even a little worked up. It makes him a killer bouncer, but being a slave to one’s animal instincts is no way to live. I can see in his slate eyes a twinge of desperation that I stay near him, so my dysfunction that mutes magic can grant him a life lived on two legs. “I’ve never gone this long without shifting. I’m not chancing anything with you, now that I know what this feels like.”

  I kiss his cheek and wish things could be simpler for all of us. “The cops don’t suspect anything?”

  “They suspect lots of things, but not me. They just wanted my statement about the last time I saw Louis. Not even I thought Louis would do what he did to me, so no one knows we were at odds, except the bartender, who isn’t a talker.”

  Insecurity rattles my voice. “They won’t take me away?”

  Hagan holds me as only he knows how to do. “No, honeycomb. As long as I live, I’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you.”

  Cary trills his fingers on my shoulder. “Hagan’s been laying on your clothes every morning while you’re in the shower. He usually puts them back and folds them before you come out. Just go with it, Sophie Mae. It’s a shifter’s version of making sure the doors are locked at night.” Carrigan kisses my naked shoulder, brushing his palm across my terrycloth-covered abdomen once more before leaving to take his shower.

  I don’t know what to make of the animalistic side of Hagan, so I lean up on my toes and press a kiss to his unshaven cheek. I love the way his neck shrinks and his shoulders go concave at my touch. It’s such a cutesy thing to do, often coupled by a slight blush visible only through the dark hair of his trimmed beard if you’re close to him.

  How I love being close to Hagan. He smells like pine and spicy deodorant, and now my clothes will tease me all day long with the delicious smell of him.

  His fingers dance along the horizon of my breasts. “You’d better get dressed. This towel would look awfully nice in a pile on the flo
or. I’m not sure we have time for that.”

  Though I have a chip on my shoulder about moving on from our cozy life out into the unknown, a shiver rolls through me. He’s had his face between my legs every other night, but I’ve still never seen him naked. He guards his body so tightly that I sometimes worry I’ll never be allowed to make him come undone the way he makes me unravel.

  I bite down on my lower lip, fighting back the beast inside of me that roars for more. More of Hagan. More of Carrigan. I run my fingers along his taut abs, teasing him, and utterly torturing myself.

  Chapter Two

  Sophie

  Hagan kisses me just enough to lure my body to press against his before he pulls away, tracing the side of my face with his thumb. “I’ll go make us breakfast. Coffee or tea?”

  I blink up at him, unsure what to make of the constant thoughtfulness I’ve lived my whole adult life without. I should just answer his question, but instead “Is this normal?” tumbles out.

  Hagan studies my confusion before taking my face into his hands. He looks so dangerous, but every touch is gentle and careful, as if he assumes I’m fragile. More than that, it matters to him that I’m breakable, which makes me trust him all the more. “I don’t want something normal with you.” He kisses my lips and my spine turns to liquid. “Coffee or tea?”