Her Wolves: A Reverse Harem Romance

by Candace Wondrak

  It would take them a while to drive there; Fletcher’s compound wasn’t exactly right next to the city. It was deep in the Appalachians, nestled where humankind wouldn’t find it, tucked away from the rest of the world. It was the only place where Fletcher would ever get away with his crimes.

  Because that’s what they were. Crimes. And Brice and Everett had supplied him with what he needed to commit them.

  Fuck. They had to right this wrong—but how?

  Chapter Eighteen - Violet

  All dolled up and ready for a fucking ball.

  Yeah, like the balls in the movies, the ones royalty threw with masquerades and big, poufy dresses. Violet’s dress wasn’t poufy, but it was the fanciest article of clothing she’d ever had on. It hugged her body tightly until the bottom, where the purple fabric puffed out into a mermaid tail. Strapless, it clung to her chest and actually made her look curvy and not like she was the size of a fifth grader.

  Iris had done her makeup before letting her have a look in the mirror, and Violet had to admit she looked good. No, not just good. She looked hot. Like she was ready for a night on the town, or whatever it was rich people did.

  But of course, she knew the makeup and the dress could only mean one thing: she was about to be put on display again.

  Once she was ready, once she had heels on that made her look like she was at the height of a normal woman, Iris linked her arm through hers and led Violet from the room, taking her down the stairs to the first floor. Before they left her room, however, Iris leaned to her ear and whispered, “Trust me.”

  Trust her? Violet wondered as she tried her best not to trip and fall—and probably die—as she made her way down the stairs. How the hell was she supposed to trust her about anything? She was good with her tongue, but that was about the only thing Violet could trust her about. She wasn’t fool enough to believe any of Iris’s words, as sugarcoated as some of them were.

  Their steps were slow and measured as they rounded the bottom of the grand staircase and went into the same room where Fletcher had made Brice sleep with her. A few guards stood just outside, which Violet thought odd, because never had she seen guards so constantly close to Fletcher before. One of them was the one who usually guarded the bath, which she found odd. When they entered the sitting room though, Violet knew why the guards were there.

  Fletcher wasn’t alone in the room. He sat on a couch, the same couch he’d sat on while he watched Brice and Violet together, and beside him, in a similarly elegant and sparkling dress, was Ivy.

  Violet felt something strange happen inside of her when her eyes landed on Ivy: her heart nearly stopped, her breath catching in the back of her throat. She couldn’t breathe for a few moments as she looked at Ivy.

  She was…she was perfect. The most beautiful woman in the world. Her long, white hair was braided in a crown, little stray wisps flying out of the braid. Her pale skin had only traces of makeup, though her eyes were rimmed in a dark black eyeliner, making them seem even bluer. Brighter and more vibrant. Her lips were red, drawing Violet’s attention immediately. Sparkling earrings hung from her ears, but not a single other piece of jewelry sat anywhere on her.

  Ivy was more beautiful than Iris. Ivy was…Violet couldn’t even think straight. It was like she was in middle school again, realizing she liked girls just as much if not more than boys, especially when they were pretty and nice. And Ivy? From the little bit she’d spoken to her, Violet knew Ivy was one of the kindest women around.

  When Iris and Violet entered the room, Ivy’s gaze was the first to flick over to them, landing on Violet. Her lips parted somewhat, as if she wanted to say something, a blush creeping up her cheeks, but Fletcher turned his head, his eyes narrowing at Violet and Iris. He got to his feet, appraising her.

  “You do clean up well, even with that purple hair,” Fletcher spoke, reaching for her.

  Violet felt Iris’s arm slip from hers, and Fletcher pulled her to the same couch where Ivy sat, her back rod straight. The disgusting wolf sat between them while Iris stood aside, watching her mate with two other women.

  This wasn’t—oh, God. This wasn’t Fletcher’s way of saying he wanted to have both Violet and Ivy, was it? He wasn’t going to try to take them like he’d made Brice take her the day before? Violet wasn’t sure what to think, but she knew it was bad. Ivy was never out of her room; he kept her locked away, safe, in order to control Brice and Everett.

  Why would he let her out now? Why her and Violet?

  Unless…unless he was done trying to control Brice and Everett. Unless Fletcher knew the brothers had had enough. Violet wasn’t sure what to think; either way, it seemed pretty damn bad.

  Fletcher moved to grip one of each of their hands. Violet’s right and Ivy’s left, squeezing them a bit harder than what would be considered friendly. “Aren’t you two just divine? I’m sure they’ll be drooling over you, for different reasons, of course.”

  Violet wanted to ask what the fuck he was talking about, but she kept her mouth shut. Her jaw ticked; it was ridiculously difficult keeping quiet when all she wanted to do was sucker-punch Fletcher in the throat.

  He was not blind, and he was smart enough to know what Violet and Ivy were thinking, so he said, “You’re wondering why I brought you here. Let me be blunt with you both. I’m having an event next week, and I’m having both of you as the main attractions.” Fletcher shot a look at Ivy. “It’s high past time you held your weight around here. I’m done keeping you aside for your brothers. They have disappointed me for the last time.”

  Ivy was slow to close her eyes at that, trying to hide the water that had formed in the corners of her eyes.

  To Violet, Fletcher said, “And you. It’s clear those buffoons somehow care for you a great deal. I was right here, you know, when I told Brice to fuck you, and I saw it all. He tried to act like you meant nothing, but after doing this for so long, it’s easy for me to see. His wolf wanted you just as badly as the younger one’s did.”

  That didn’t sound right, did it? Violet wanted to refute him, wanted to deny him and say something to convince him he was wrong, but she was speechless. And the bastard wasn’t finished talking, either.

  “Today I will make Brice and Everett see that I have been far too lenient with them. I will make them realize they are powerless here, just as they are out there. Shifters without a pack, without their sister, and without a mate. I invited them here so they could see you…” A sick smile grew on Fletcher’s thin lips. “…after I have you both.”

  Ivy spoke up, “Why—” The rest of her words were slapped from her mouth when Fletcher quickly released her hand and hit her. Her ivory skin immediately turned red where he’d touched her, and she held back a whimper.

  Violet felt her stomach clench when she watched him hurt her, but the deed was done, and there was nothing she could do to help her. No one would be helping either of them, actually. They were officially up the creek without a fucking paddle.

  “I don’t want to hear either of your pretty mouths speak,” Fletcher hissed, a growl rumbling from his chest. “And I don’t give a shit whether you fight me or not. I am stronger than the both of you, and I will have you broken by the time Brice and Everett arrive. One thing I will let you two decide, however, is who is first.”

  Suddenly the fingers curled around her own tightened, and Violet wanted to be sick. The last thing she wanted to do was let Fletcher take either of them, but considering she couldn’t even yank her hand out of his grasp, her hope of escaping this was slim, basically nonexistent.

  How the hell were they supposed to decide which one of them Fletcher would rape first? That was not something any woman, shifter or not, should have to decide. It was inhumane, cruel, twisted in a horrible way—but clearly, Fletcher got off on it. He liked being in a position of power, liked having them know they had no choice in the matter.

  The only thing they could choose was who went first.

  Violet stared around Fletcher, studying Ivy. A
silent tear fell down her face, gliding along the cheek the man hadn’t hit. How the hell was Violet supposed to make this decision? She knew Ivy was too kind to ever suggest he take Violet first, but she was also not bold enough to declare Fletcher should have her first, either.

  It was up to Violet, then.

  God, this was not a decision she ever thought she’d have to make. And it wasn’t like it would save Ivy from Fletcher permanently; only temporarily. Violet’s gut clenched, and her palms grew sweaty. Fletcher could probably sense her reaction, and he had to know what was coming before she said it.

  “Me,” Violet whispered. “Take me first.” She practically gagged on the words, wanting to throw up and take them back, somehow. An impossible dream. She felt her hope dwindling; getting out of here would be impossible. Meeting those damned brothers had been the end of her life in more ways than one.

  Fletcher turned his torso to her, a knowing smile dancing across his face. “Can’t say I’m shocked, Violet. I had a feeling you would volunteer. Such self-sacrifice.” He released Ivy’s hand, reaching to her cheek, running his fingers down her skin. “The trait won’t last long in here, though. You’ll learn everyone is out for themselves.”

  Were they supposed to be words of wisdom? Was Violet supposed to nod along and heartily agree with him? Fuck that. The bastard would get not another word out of her. Not when he was about to take her against her will.

  “Ivy,” Fletcher carried on, “go sit over there. I’ll come to you when I’m done with the human.”

  Ivy measuredly gathered her dress and got up, bringing herself to the couch where Violet and Brice had gotten to know each other too well. She sat on a cushion, her sapphire gaze locking with Violet’s. Her expression was both resigned and sad, sympathetic and horrified.

  Violet felt her skin crawling when Fletcher’s hand fell from her face, lingering on her shoulder, moving along her collarbone. She wanted to block it out, to imagine none of it was happening, but she didn’t dissociate. She would remain in her body while he used her, and she would be broken afterwards.

  This was her life now, and it sucked ass.

  Chapter Nineteen - Violet

  Violet wanted to turn into a ghost and fade from existence. She definitely didn’t want to watch Fletcher undoing his pants, and she definitely didn’t want that dick anywhere near her. The only thing she wanted to do to that particular dick was cut it off, but seeing as there were no weapons around, she was shit out of luck on that one.

  Her green eyes were downcast to the floor, and before she knew it, Fletcher was shoving her down and crawling over her. Was he going to tear the dress? Make her look like an animal had gotten to her? Have her beaten and bloodied for the audience who would walk inside the house after this was all said and done?

  Violet didn’t often feel scared, because she was a realist who knew life sucked, but this—this was beyond frightening. This was every woman’s nightmare, human or not. This was a fear tucked into their heads, taught by their parents since they were born and able to listen. Never go anywhere alone at night, be aware of who was around, never leave a drink unwatched at a party. So many things all women did to avoid being raped and taken advantage of. Men usually found ways around it, if they wanted it that badly.

  Fletcher was no different than the deadbeat humans who did the same, only his mansion was full of women who couldn’t fight back, and he invited others to have their way with them, all for money. Greed. Power.

  It was wrong on every level.

  “Now,” Fletcher spoke, his eyes flashing a metallic, dark brown hue, his teeth a tad pointier than they should’ve been, “you’re probably wondering why I had Iris dress you up, only for me to tear it to shreds.” He gripped the bottom of her dress, growling as he added, “I’m a fan of showmanship, and there’s nothing better than seeing a pretty woman all torn up and broken.” With that, he tore open the dress, driving a slit all the way up her leg, until he could reach the part of her he wanted.

  Violet couldn’t stop watching, couldn’t shut her brain off. Did she want to watch? Hell no, but what else was she going to do—turn her head and stare at Ivy while he was doing it? Watch her beautiful face cry? No, she couldn’t handle that.

  As Fletcher worked on reaching his filthy hands around her hips to pull down her panties, Iris slowly moved closer, eyes on Violet. She was unimpressed with Fletcher’s display, as she would be—Violet knew this was not the first time Fletcher had done something like this. She was his chosen mate, the shifter female above all the others.

  Iris moved beside the couch where Violet and Fletcher were, and she set a hand on Fletcher’s back as he yanked down Violet’s underwear.

  “You don’t have to stay,” Fletcher told her, pausing. “You can go—”

  Practically mewling, Iris crawled onto the couch behind Fletcher, cooing into his ear, “No, I want to be here. I want to watch you do what you do best.” Though he’d kept his shirt on, it didn’t stop her from running her hands all along him. Down his back, over his shoulders.

  Fletcher rumbled with pleasure. “Fine, but don’t get in my way,” he growled out before turning his attention back to Violet.

  Violet felt her heart shrivel in her chest when she watched him grab himself—unsurprisingly, he was as hard as a rock, ready to take her—but then…something happened. Something strange. Something she was wholly unprepared for.

  The pale hands massaging Fletcher’s back moved to his neck and then the sides of his face. Iris’s grey gaze flashed metallic, meeting Violet’s stare. In one swift motion, she had one hand curling its fingers into his mouth, her thumb gripping his jaw, and the other near his eyes, claws out.

  Before Fletcher knew what was happening, before he could stick himself inside Violet, Iris dug her clawed fingers into his eyes.

  Blood, eye gook, whatever the shit was that oozed from his eyes as she dug in—it was nothing compared to what was to come, Violet realized as Fletcher let out a howl of pain, his teeth sharpening. Iris didn’t withdraw her other hand from his mouth; her arm muscles tensed as she used the hand in his mouth and the one inside his eye sockets to pull.

  Bones cracked, muscles and tendons gave way to sheer strength as Fletcher literally came apart above Violet. Skin separating, blood spurting out, landing on her face, she suddenly grew so very cold as she watched Iris rip Fletcher’s bottom jaw off.

  The guards from the hall had come into the room, but it was too late. Fletcher’s jaw was off and in Iris’s hand, and Fletcher’s chest had stopped growling. Her fingers were so far into his eyes they must’ve hit his brain.

  Fletcher was dead.

  “What the fuck—” The guard on the left had no chance to say anything more, for the second guard—the one who Violet had recognized as the bath guard—lunged at him, breaking through his clothes as he shifted into a wolf, his fangs and his claws tearing his neck apart.

  This was a coup?

  It was hard for Violet to think straight while watching the jawless man above her. His tongue had fallen against her chest, all red and bloodied, no longer held in place by anything. She definitely needed to throw up.

  Iris was slow to slide her fingers out of his eye sockets, and the moment she did, the body fell forward, right onto Violet. She got off the couch, standing straight, hardly any blood on her as she lifted the jaw before her, examining it. A gruesome fit of flesh and bone, dripping blood onto her palm. “Huh,” she mused, as if she hadn’t just killed him, “you’ve looked better, Fletcher.” And then she tossed the jaw to the floor, right before Ivy, who was shocked still by the whole thing.

  She moved to the guard, who now stood back in his human form, naked above the second guard, who was just as dead as Fletcher. Running a hand down his chest, Iris said, “Take these two to the gate. Make sure the others know to let them go.”

  Violet struggled under Fletcher’s body, pushing him off her as she rolled to the floor. Her eyes felt weird—did she get some of his blood in her fucking
eyes? How nasty. How gross. She would’ve gagged, but she was fairly certain she’d gotten some in her mouth, too. Her chest and the top of the dress was covered in a bright red, slick with all the blood that had spilled onto her from Iris’s actions.

  Not to say she wasn’t grateful for her timely intervention, but what the fuck?

  She worked to pull her underwear back up, aware the guard had already left the room. Hyper fucking aware that Iris stood before her, gazing down at her with a level stare, as if her hands and claws were free of blood. Ivy dropped to the floor, crawling to Violet’s side, helping her to stand on shaky feet.

  Violet stared at Iris. She’d heard what the older woman said, knew the implications of it. This was something Iris had planned for a while. Some of the guards were on her side in this. What the guards would get out of this, she didn’t know, and she didn’t care. A selfish part of her just wanted to get the hell out of here.

  “I would leave now, if I were you,” Iris advised, haughty, considering how bloodied her hands were. “The girls will want to tear that one apart.” She spoke of Ivy.

  Ivy started to move, dragging Violet along with her. “Come on,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”

  What was Violet supposed to do? Argue with her? Tell both Ivy and Iris she wasn’t leaving here without the other women? Her thoughts were jumbled, and she could barely remember to breathe and blink, let alone walk at the same time.

  So Violet said nothing. She said nothing to Iris as Ivy helped her out of the room, out of the house, practically dragged her across the dirt floor of the compound. Ivy was thin, but she was strong. She was a shifter. She could probably carry Violet without breaking a sweat.

  The guard who had shifted and torn the other wolf to shreds stood near the fence, where the opening was. He was naked and proud, meeting both of their eyes as they walked past. The very instant Ivy and Violet were through the gate, it fell shut behind them, a loud and jarring sound. Both women jumped, and Violet nearly fell over when Ivy lost grip on her shoulders.