Violet stared down at her lap, teeth grinding together. Her hand hurt like a bitch, and she wanted to ram her fist down Fletcher’s throat.
“Even humans have their own distinct smells, though not nearly as strong as a shifter. You have been touched by other humans, but not for a while.” Fletcher took a bite of his bread, leaning back in his chair, his dark eyes studying her. After he swallowed, he asked, “Am I wrong?”
She was slow to mutter, “No.”
“You’ve never been fucked by a wolf, though. I can tell. I would smell him on you.”
Not sure what to say to that lovely statement, Violet kept quiet. She began picking at the food, holding herself back from eating any of it. This was not a nice lunch conversation. None of this was. This was messed up in so many different ways.
Their lunch went by slowly, time dragging by, inching along at an agonizingly slow pace. The more Fletcher talked, the more questions he asked her, the more weirded out and angry Violet became. Why the hell was it his business whether or not she had siblings? Whether she came from a family who would miss her? It shouldn’t matter. She was a person. She shouldn’t be caged like some animal, used up and discarded by filthy, immoral shifter men.
More than once Violet wanted to attack him. Say whatever and lunge for him. She could probably get a blow or two in before he swatted her off him like a fly. At least she could say that she tried, right?
What good was biding her time if there was never an opening?
Granted, Violet had only been here for a day, but still. Things didn’t look good.
Fletcher ate way too much, also talked way too much, while Violet nibbled and answered when she had to. Her spirits were low, so her feistiness had seen better days. She just wanted to get out of here, to leave and never look back. Never think about shifters or anything involving shifters ever again.
Maia and the others not included…although she had no idea how the hell she was going to get back to them when she had no phone, no wallet, no anything to help her get from point A to point B.
Fletcher was in the middle of saying something asinine when a third presence entered the room. Tall and elegant, Iris held Fletcher’s gaze easily, not flinching under his brown stare. She was the model of all femininity, beautiful and perfect. No scars anywhere Violet could see, and none she saw yesterday when they’d been in the bath. She’d tried her hardest not to look at the gorgeous naked woman who was bathing her.
“Iris,” Fletcher spoke to her, the affection in his voice clear. He did care about her, in his own weird way.
“Sorry to interrupt you,” Iris spoke, giving him a small bow of her head. Her long, brown hair hung over her left shoulder, revealing the numerous sparkling earrings in her other ear. “I thought you would be finishing up by now.”
He waved Violet and the food off. Most of it was half-eaten, if not all gone. “We are. It’s not time for our next painting session, is it?”
“No, not yet. I was actually hoping to introduce Violet to the girls, if you’re done with her.” Iris’s reply was swift and simple, and there was not a single shred of hatred in her voice for Fletcher.
How could she sound so normal around him when he was such a bastard of a man? Violet would never be able to walk and talk like that, not here. She couldn’t act as if the world wasn’t on fire around her.
Fletcher barely glanced to Violet before saying, “Yes, that’s a good idea. Just keep an eye on her for me, will you? I wouldn’t put it past her to try to run.”
Violet wanted to roll her eyes, but Iris’s reply stopped her, “If she tries to run, she’ll face the consequences. A human could never outrun a shifter guard.” Her grey eyes flicked to Violet. “It would be foolish even to try.”
“Yes, very foolish, because I wouldn’t care enough to stop whoever caught her from teaching her a lesson.” Fletcher flicked his gaze back to Violet, to see if his threat was understood.
It was. As understood as a threat could be.
Violet was slow to get to her feet, even slower to walk to Iris’s side. The woman glanced at her feet, at the tennis shoes she’d chosen, and lifted her two perfectly plucked brows. Tennis shoes, because Violet still had to be Violet, even with the shitstorm happening that was currently her life.
Iris said nothing as she slipped her hand into hers, tugging her along and leading the way. Violet was too lost in her own head to realize where they walked to, why the halls of the mansion started to look somewhat familiar. It was only after they stepped under an archway, past a stern-looking shifter guard, that she knew.
The baths.
Nothing much had changed since yesterday—except this time? This time they were full of women. Shifter women of all colors, all sizes, though most were lean and fit and supermodel tall when compared to Violet, but all of them were beautiful.
And they were all naked.
So, so naked.
So many boobs. So many vaginas. It was sensory overload.
None of the women so much as looked at Violet. They were all gathered in their cliques, talking amongst themselves, shampooing each other and just talking. They…seemed happy enough, but this was probably the one time during their day when they could let loose and have fun. Their smiles did not mean they enjoyed it here. It only meant they liked the companionship, the friendship they brought each other.
“They know who you are already,” Iris spoke, standing beside her, gazing at the hordes of women as if she were their proprietor. “I assume you are more than capable of introducing yourself individually, should you so choose.” She released Violet’s hand, sweeping her fingers across the back of her neck, little tingles dancing through her at the touch. “Don’t talk about anything important here, Violet. There are too many ears listening.” Again, she pressed her lips against Violet’s cheek before walking off.
Violet stood still for a long time, dazed and dumbstruck, wondering if she acted like this to every newcomer. If Iris was being especially nice to her, why? Like everyone was so keen on reminding her, she was human. She wasn’t a shifter. She had nothing to give these people.
As Iris sashayed to the archway, Violet took one more look around the giant room. At least twenty women, at her count. Most of them were near her age, some of them looking like they were near forty. Old, to be used in an underground breeding ring—or whatever the hell this place was supposed to be. But she supposed shifters couldn’t be choosy.
And then, almost like it was fate—or at the very least, like Iris had planned for this—the women in the room moved, allowing Violet to see the one smaller bath in the back left corner of the room was occupied by a single woman. A woman with long, pin-straight hair so white and pure it was near blinding.
Ivy.
Chapter Eleven - Brice
Everett would not let up, even as Brice was busy walking out of the door, and as he drove to the compound, for the first time ever without his little brother at his side, he was wrought with trepidation—an emotion he did not often feel, because he did his best to focus on the goal. The destination.
Even growing up, he’d always been the type of person to believe the ends justified the means. Of course, now he was older, he was aware it was typically a villain’s mindset, but in order to get Ivy back, he pretty much had to be a villain anyway. His sister and his brother were all he had left…so why the hell was he risking it all by going to the compound like this?
Fletcher was smart. He didn’t get to where he was by being stupid. Meaning he would know something was up. Brice would have to do his best to convince the shifter nothing was wrong, that he was fed up with Everett’s antics…that he wanted a change of pace. Or something.
Basically, Brice had to act like a know-it-all dick, but not so big of a dick Fletcher was insulted or felt threatened by him. He had to steer his dickishness toward certain things while simultaneously stroking the shifter’s ego, which was already astronomically large.
During the long drive out of the city and into the evergre
en mountains, Brice could not stop thinking about the way his brother had looked the night before. His back, all torn up and bloody. He was doing better this morning, was able to shift at dawn to help speed up the healing process, but the wounds were still scabs, and they’d definitely leave hideous scars.
Everett. He still could not believe Everett wanted the human with purple hair for his mate. It seemed almost comical, and utterly stupid. At the rate they were going though, there would be no more shifters to choose from soon enough.
Yeah…they’d fucked up, but they did all the fucking up for Ivy, so didn’t it change anything? Didn’t it make them less bad?
Or did it make them worse? If they got Ivy out, would she even be able to look at them, knowing what they did to get her back? Their sister was a kind girl, someone who always believed in the best of people, but there was no telling whether or not she’d be the same girl once she was out. She’d been thrown into the wolves’ ring when she was only seventeen years old. Would she look the same, feel the same, sound the same? Time changed everything.
Brice guessed he would see sooner or later.
Hopefully.
Hopefully he’d find a way to get both Ivy and Violet out, since Everett was so intent on the human. It was the least he could do for his little brother, considering everything he’d put him through, dragging him across the country in search of the marks.
Though those days were not fully behind him, Brice did not want to think about them, either. They were only reminders; of how low he’d sunk. To think, there used to be a time when he thought he was a good guy, years of his childhood when he thought he’d grow up in his pack, find a mate, and live a happy life.
It was all water under the bridge now. All in his past. Brice would never be happy.
He shut his mind off during most of the drive, and when the compound came into view—namely, the huge fence separating Fletcher’s house and main property from the acres of trees around it—his heart dropped. He didn’t want to do this, mostly because he still didn’t quite know what he was doing. This could backfire spectacularly, but he would rather face the brunt of Fletcher’s anger than let Everett have it again. His little brother deserved better.
After pulling up, Brice slowly got out of the car, meeting eyes with the guards standing near the house’s ten-car garage. Or at least it looked like a ten-car garage. It was huge. Fletcher had to have nearly a dozen cars inside that thing. He headed straight for the front door of the mansion, slowly walking up the few marble steps until he reached the hand-carved wood.
No one knocked here, because they were all shifters. They were able to hear most everything, as long as they were nearby. Odds were, Fletcher had heard him coming, heard the car, at least. Heard him get out and slam the door. By the time Brice headed in, he’d be expecting him.
When Brice walked into the house, past the foyer, he found Fletcher rounding a corner, a tiny piece of bread in his hand, which he took to shoving into his mouth when his dark brown gaze spotted him. He must’ve just been eating lunch.
“Ah, Brice,” Fletcher spoke, sounding both bored and intrigued. “Mind if I ask what the fuck you’re doing here so soon? Shouldn’t you be out catching that red-headed female for me to start making up for your idiotic mistake?”
Yes, that’s exactly what Brice should’ve been doing, but he wasn’t. And he wouldn’t. After Everett’s declaration last night, he would never forgive Brice if he went out and hunted Maia while Violet was still locked up like Ivy. So Brice braced himself for Fletcher’s anger, squaring his shoulders. His back had ghost aches, as if his scars were still bleeding wounds, as if Fletcher had taken the whip to him yesterday and not Everett.
This was going to be more difficult than he thought.
Fletcher ran a hand down the front of his suit, saying, “Come. I can see it in your eyes. You want to talk about your brother.” He spun on his heel, leading Brice to a sitting room.
Red and gold carpet, gaudy paintings hanging on the wall, most of them of naked women, probably the paintings he’d done of the women here. Brice tried not to look at them, averting his eyes to the floor as he sat on a chair opposite the one Fletcher chose. He would not question the shifter’s decorating skills.
“And, let me guess, you wish to talk about your sister, too,” Fletcher mused, leaning back and crossing his ankles. “Bold of you to think I would want to talk about either of them. You I have lashed for your attitude, but not once have you ever growled at me. The truth of the matter is, Everett should’ve been punished more. The longer I think about it, the more I think I let him off easy.”
Letting Everett off easy was scarring his back for the rest of his life? What more could Fletcher have done? Cut off a finger, a toe? No, he liked his whips. He also liked his mind games.
“I’m sorry,” Brice muttered, wanting to vomit after saying those two words. An apology was not something he’d ever thought he’d have to give Fletcher. “I don’t know what came over him. He’s never showed any signs of possessiveness before. You know that.”
Fletcher ran his hands down the armrests of his velvety chair. “Yes, your brother has been remarkably good until yesterday. The only difference between yesterday and all the other times you’ve been here handing over a mark is that you two fucked up and brought me a human. Why would your brother growl for a human?”
Judging from the way he spat out the final word, Fletcher did not understand it. Brice was hard to say he did, because he still couldn’t comprehend the fact Everett’s wolf had settled on a human for his mate.
A human. It didn’t make sense, but it was what it was.
“Does your brother like the human?” Fletcher asked, a knowing glint in his black eyes. “Tell me he did not growl for her because he wants to mate with her.” The disgust in his tone was evident, as if he could not fathom mating with a human.
What was the right card to play here? What should he say?
“I fear he does,” Brice spoke, sounding bitter and unhappy. Not a far cry from what he felt inside. “I don’t know how it happened, but I think it did. Is there any way to stop it?” He saw the approval flitting across Fletcher’s face, and he knew he’d said the correct thing. “All last night, he went on and on about her. I don’t…it’s not only annoying, but also sickening. I don’t want him to be stuck on her, to talk about her, for the rest of his life.”
Fletcher pursed his lips, which were already thin, as he thought. “It is extremely hard to change the mind of our inner wolves, you know that. But it is not impossible. With the right nudging, the wolf will give it up, just like any other animal when something is too far out of reach. Is that why you came here? To not only apologize for your brother’s disobedience, but also to see if I could help him?”
Fuck. What could he say to that now? It was too late to turn back, way too late to stop this.
“Yes,” Brice said. “I also would like your word that Ivy won’t be harmed for Everett’s mistake, or for ours.”
“Your sister is fine, just as I tell you she is every time you’re here.”
“Can I see her?”
Fletcher smirked. “No, Brice, you can’t. You should know better by now than to ask me such a stupid question.”
Looking at his hands, Brice sighed. He desperately wanted to see his sister, to know she was okay, but he knew Fletcher’s word was law. He would not see Ivy today.
“I’ll tell you what,” Fletcher broke into his thoughts, the smirk morphing into a sheer wicked grin, “I’ll think about changing your sentence. If you get me Maia, I’ll still let your sister go—and I’ll help your brother overcome his wolf’s need to be with the human. I am not generous often, but when I am, you should jump on it.”
He said the last part in reference to Brice’s silence. Fletcher had something up his sleeve. That, or Maia was important.
“Why would you be so generous?” Brice questioned, hating himself for sounding like a sniveling coward. He was younger than Fletcher, probably s
tronger, but with the guards on the property, he was easily outnumbered. Brice couldn’t take down Fletcher alone. No wolf could.
If only he had a pack.
“I give, on occasion,” Fletcher spoke. “Plus, I would hate to see Everett waste his potential. There’s nothing worse than settling, am I right?” He waited for Brice to nod before continuing, “Plus, Maia is…let’s just say she fucked with the wrong pack. Not only did she run from her duty, but she also caused the alpha to lose his son.”
So, getting Maia here was…revenge? Brice would never understand the mindset of certain shifters who thought they had the right to do whatever they wanted to whomever they wanted. He’d come from a kind pack, a peaceful pack. A pack that never forced anyone to be with someone they didn’t want to be with. Females had their choice, though when wolves connected, it was near impossible to deny the attraction.
It was why they were all dead now, annihilated by Fletcher’s crew.
“Jackson paid a lot of money for me to acquire Maia. He wants her to suffer, which I can’t blame him for—then again, I’m the kind of wolf who wouldn’t let a female run from me in the first place. He tried playing nice with her, and look at what it got him.” Fletcher shrugged, as if he talked about some sort of game and not someone’s life.
Brice didn’t want to bring any more females to Fletcher, but if it was just one more…
He shouldn’t even think about it. He should say no and storm out—but if he did, it would mean Ivy and Violet were lost, so he had to play Fletcher’s game. Brice just wasn’t sure what the game was, yet.
“And what about Everett?” Brice slowly asked, fishing for information about Violet. If his little brother had realized before they brought her here that his inner wolf wanted her, they could’ve avoided this thing entirely. Too late for should’ve, would’ve, could’ve, though.
“I do have something in mind,” Fletcher spoke, rubbing his jaw. “It will likely be a process, but it’s all we can do, to get your brother back into his right mind, help him realize the human should mean nothing to him. I trust you would do anything to help your precious little brother?”
Her Wolves: A Reverse Harem Romance Page 7
