Beautiful Secrets: The Complete Trilogy

by Marie Robinson

  Ours was the age of power, and they dared not hasten in the new era.

  My cock throbbed and it was as if she knew, looking back over her shoulder at me, a smile in her eyes. I’d known of her for less than a day, her face always hidden by the damn mask, and yet I didn’t give a fuck. I felt how she responded to the three of us, her climaxing in my arms, and I wanted something I’d never wanted before.

  I wanted us all to have her.

  Before her, there had been the sycophants, the women and men who wanted us for a night, for the status it would give them. And occasionally one of us might give in to our urges, but we had never shared a partner in this way—we’d never desired a single partner as equally as I knew we did.

  Brom believed himself presentable, above reproach when among our peers in society. But seeing his lips mouthing her wrist was as blatant a declaration of intent as it would have been had he made the announcement plainly. He would feed from her, but he would fuck her too, and the thought of that made me hungry for it.

  Would he whisper a filthy litany of encouragement as I fucked her against the wall?

  I felt my shift begin, my nails elongating into claws as I struggled with the primal desire she stirred in me. The lycan in me wanted to shift, to challenge anyone else who would risk approaching her.

  Dammit, I wanted to give myself to her, to bare my throat and belly in submission and trust. But I couldn’t, not until I knew she wasn’t there to destroy us. I would protect my heart, though it was as if her fingers gripped it tight, reaching through my rib cage. So I would let my body desire her, and I knew I couldn’t stop myself from acting on those desires, but my heart would be protected and locked away. If she betrayed us, I would be able to look back with appreciation of a good fuck—but I couldn’t allow myself to make love to her. Not yet, at least.

  Merlin was waiting for us, pacing the study we had adopted as our own last night. It suited us, decorated in earthy tones, leather armchairs plush and comfortable, the lighting soft and the whiskey decanter full. There was a hearth in the wall, surrounded by archaic books and relics, and while there were logs stacked neatly inside, no fire burned.

  My eyes dropped to the Persian rug, thick beneath our feet, and I pictured her there, laid out on her back, her hair fanning around her, completely naked before us save her pristine mask. I wanted to touch every inch of her and see how much she could handle, I wanted to drive her mad with pleasure. My dick was straining in my pants and I didn’t care.

  Fuck, I hadn’t even had a drop to drink since we left Brom’s earlier.

  “Down, boy,” Merlin teased me as he stared pointedly at my crotch. Brom looked at me with humor and I growled at them, gnashing my teeth. But the look in her eyes, the delicate way she brought her hand to her chest, it did nothing to lessen my urge to fall on her and devour her.

  “We going or not?” I ground out, unable to care about civility.

  Merlin and Brom looked to her and, shit, I realized I wanted to claim a woman I didn’t even know the name of. She dropped her head against Brom’s arm and shrugged a shoulder.

  “I’ll go where you want me,” she said, and my cock twitched.

  “Well, we’d better head out now before the mutt over here tosses you to the floor to rut against you,” Merlin said, hardly holding back his laughter. Even Brom huffed out a quiet laugh. As the warlock stood, I stepped back out of the doorway, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to conjure up some sense of composure.

  A gentle hand touched my chest, so gentle it belied the bolt of electricity I felt even as I opened my eyes to see her. Brom and Merlin were leaving the room, and it felt as if the universe shrank until it only encapsulated the room, the two of us its sole occupants.

  I couldn’t speak as I looked down at her; her eyes were like pools of nebulas, and held the same pull as a black hole. I wanted to fall into them, into her, and instead of sending me into a frenzy, her gaze centered me—soothing the riot within.

  “Will you walk with me?” she asked, and I brought my hand up, capturing hers, and pressed a kiss to her fingertips. I could hear the hitch in her breath and I knew she felt the same desire as I did.

  “Whatever you want,” I said, promising more with those words than I knew.

  Merlin opened the door once more, the heavy bass of the music thumping through my veins, tempting the beast within me. I wanted to snap my jaws and shift, to growl out challenges to the other shifters I could sense. I wanted to rip my shirt off and beat my chest, howling. I wanted to impress the woman who held my arm so carefully, as if she might hurt me instead of the other way around. I wanted to prove myself to her and I hated that I had reservations.

  Even Merlin’s eyes lingered on her in a way that made it clear he was just as taken with her as we were. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman hold that man’s interest for more than a night. The crowd moved around us, the music felt alive—and dangerous.

  I looked at Merlin and Brom to see if they felt on edge too. There was something in the air, I could nearly taste it. Testosterone and shifter hormones, stronger than last night. Fights were always inevitable at these events, but they were of small consequences, the combatants licking their wounds and buying rounds for one another afterwards.

  Brom’s dark eyes glittered in the strobe light, his shoulders tense as he walked through the crowd beside us, stepping closer to her. She seemed unaware of the threat permeating the air. The revelers danced around us, but there was a tension in their bodies, a desperation to take what they could before the eruption.

  A familiar stench slammed into me, sending me into vertigo and I froze in place. I could feel her hands wrapping tightly around my bicep as I struggled with the blatant challenge. I forced my eyes open, fighting back the change, and looked down to see her eyes watching me, wide with concern, but no fear.

  “Brom. Merlin.” I barked out their names and I felt Merlin’s hand on my shoulder. I looked back down to the captivating woman and smiled ferally at her. “I need to take care of something, luv. Stay with Merlin.”

  I didn’t know if she heard me over the music, but when the crowd parted, forming an empty circle, she saw the fully shifted lycan, snarling and snapping his jaws, beating his bare chest in challenge.

  “Fucking Dortimore,” Merlin grumbled and leaned into me, squeezing my shoulder. “Kick his ass, Romulus.”

  “I intend to,” I said. I placed my hand over hers, with a gentleness that surprised even me, before I peeled her hands from me and let Merlin tuck her into him, his arm over her shoulders.

  I looked to Brom, who held out his hand expectantly, and I grinned. I unbuttoned the shirt and shrugged off my suit jacket and the black shirt in one movement before I tossed them at the vampire. I toed off the stupid dress shoes I wore, and undid my belt before pushing my pants down to the floor. I had no shame of my naked body, I knew how powerful I was even in my human form. I slid off my mask, not wanting to ruin it during the shift. When I handed it to the vampire, I met her eyes and winked. I watched her eyes drop to my heavy cock, still half-full from my urges minutes ago.

  I turned away, knowing she was safe with Brom and Merlin. They would not let any harm come to her while I dealt with this challenge.

  “Dortimore,” I shouted as I stepped into the clearing. Nobody danced at the edges; they watched us as fiercely as Romans watched their gladiators. “I accept your challenge for the Connacht legacy.”

  I let out a bellow as I shifted—my skin rolling and darkening as my muscles and bones shifted and moved within me. My jaw cracked as it elongated, my skull reforming into something more lupine even as my limbs lengthened and my hands flexed as the nails turned into claws.

  Our ancestors used to turn into full wolves, but over time we had evolved into what we were today—half man, half wolf. I shifted, bending my knees as I adjusted for my new center of gravity, still standing on two legs, and pounded my chest in response to Dortimore’s posturing.

  The lycan had been needling
me for over a year now, hinting that he would challenge me for my legacy but never finding the courage. He was the mutt offspring of one of my father’s many mistresses and he hated me for it.

  In this form, everything was different—more heightened. I had faster reflexes, better strength, and enhanced senses. I knew the moment I let out a howl of rage that Dortimore began to question his challenge, I could hear his heartbeat falter at the display of my power. But the challenge had been set and accepted—he couldn’t back down now and he knew it.

  He threw himself at me and I met him in the center of the clearing, our bodies slamming together as we tore at each other’s flesh. He got his arms around my waist and tried to fling me to the ground, but it was easy enough to grab him by the neck and wrench him off of me, his hands scrambling at my arm.

  Dortimore kicked out, his taloned feet slicing shallowly across my abdomen, and I tossed him to the ground with a snarl. He was scrambling to right himself but he was too slow and I had let my power take control. He needed to learn his fucking lesson and know he would never take my place.

  I leaped on him and forced him to his back, and pummeled him with punches, beating his snout bloody as he tried to buck me off of him. My blood was raging in my ears, the fight made me feel furiously alive.

  The smaller lycan’s growls turned into whimpers and his hands fell to the floor, all fighting leaving him. His eyes were rolling in his skull, our bodies bloodied, and I shot forward, grabbing his throat in my jaws, squeezing until I felt him whimper . . . and finally go lax, fully submitting to me.

  I let him go and rose to my feet to howl with victory and in challenge. I felt the crowd shift around me, and I whirled, dropping into a low stance, ready to defeat the new challenger. My stomach dropped even as my blood roared in my ears.

  She had entered the clearing.

  Chapter 11

  Eleanora

  Watching Romulus strip down with complete confidence filled me with an answering smugness. And when he winked after he caught me inspecting his cock, I knew that it would be an adventure to fool around with him. His transformation was grotesquely beautiful and I found myself unable to look away as he returned Dortimore’s challenge, even when I felt Merlin’s arm drop from my shoulders and the crowd press against us, drawn to the fight.

  Romulus was taller than me in his human form, but in his lycan form—he was massive on an entirely different scale. Even the other lycan seemed to flinch when he realized the oncoming storm he’d challenged.

  The crowd had surged forward as the two lycans slammed together in a fury of blows and growls. Someone shoved between Merlin and I, and I heard the warlock shout at them but the crowd was feeding off the frenzy of the fight before us. I caught his eye through the moving bodies and nodded to let him know I was okay. We’d regroup when this was finished.

  Watching Romulus fight the smaller lycan should have made me terrified. It was disgusting and utterly brutal as they tore at each other. I felt every blow Romulus landed in my gut and it hypnotized me. I cheered along with the crowd as Romulus stood, victorious and bellowing.

  Hands gripped my shoulders and I panicked, but I couldn’t stop the assailant from shoving me into the clearing.

  Fuck, I thought. Even I knew what it meant for someone to enter the clearing while Romulus was still beating out a challenge on his chest. And my heart leaped into my throat with fear when he spun to face me, bent low, his arms out wide and ready to fight.

  I looked to the side where Brom and Merlin watched me, Merlin trying to get to me but Brom holding him back, hissing in his ear while watching me. They couldn’t help me, not without directly challenging their friend.

  I swallowed and nodded once to Brom, and prayed to the gods above and below to help me get out of the challenge in one piece. I straightened my back, lifting my hands towards Romulus, hoping to look as harmless as I was. If I had my father’s power, I would be a warlock and could defend myself from the lycan, but whatever power I had came from my mother, and my father hadn’t explained it before his death. I was basically a terrestris in that moment.

  But there was another way, other than fighting, that I could survive this challenge. Doing so would mean I’d made my choice though—to trust him and, in turn, Brom and Merlin, with my fate.

  I took a step towards Romulus, his eyes wide with frenzy as his chest heaved. Spittle flew from his gaping jaw, his teeth still stained red with Dortimore’s blood. The strobe lights and laser beams did little to calm the situation, the music playing faster. It was as if the DJ knew the tension between him and me and developed our own soundtrack.

  Romulus paced to the side, huffing and snapping in warning. The Romulus I had met was still in there, but broken down to his basic drives. The world of shifters was black and white, my father had heard. Challenged versus challenger. Lover versus enemy. Alpha versus omega. Life versus death. Dominate versus submissive.

  I walked closer and I could feel the crowd’s eyes on me, watching my movements with intense scrutiny. But I never looked away from Romulus, because if I did, he would attack. It was just the way of the challenge.

  The tension burned in my throat and I fought back the fear with each step I took towards him. He rose upright, growling, the sound vibrating the air around us and overwhelming me with his magical prowess. He was a beast and yet . . . he waited. He watched me as I came within arm’s reach, my eyes never left his face, my hands still raised.

  I could feel the heat that emitted from his chest, and this close, I realized how much he towered over me. I barely came up to his chest, his muscular arms easily long enough to wrap entirely around me and render me into pieces. He lowered his head to his chest, glaring at me as I stopped in front of him. His breath panted out of flared nostrils, washing over me.

  Strangely, that’s what banished my fear.

  I smiled at him and stepped forward, placing my hands on the rigid muscles of his chest, and leaned my head against him as I would a man. I felt him twitch under my touch and I let my eyes close as I nuzzled him, wishing I could remove my mask.

  He moved and my heart stuttered, but relief washed through me as his arms circled me, his breath woofing against my hair as he bent down around me. I hummed with pleasure even as I felt his teeth against my shoulder, right where it met my neck, my fear having transformed completely into arousal. I knew he sensed it, his cock, even in this form, hardening against my stomach. I pulled back slightly and tilted my head to my shoulder, baring my neck in submission.

  Only a heartbeat passed before I felt Romulus’s teeth around my neck, pressing gently into my skin. We both shuddered and I clung to him, uncaring that I was being covered in blood and sweat.

  He let go of me, the submission accepted, and I felt him let out a long shuddering sigh as his body roiled against me, shrinking and changing back into his human form.

  The tension in the clearing broke and the crowd, well, it didn’t disappear, but their attention returned once more to their own pursuits as the display was over. There would be no other challenge to Romulus tonight.

  The other lycan had disappeared, melted back into the crowd, while Romulus and I faced one another.

  Romulus, still splattered in blood and entirely naked against me, dropped his forehead atop mine.

  “That was dangerous, lass,” he said loudly, his Irish brogue thick with exertion. He ran his hands up and down my bare back and I spread my hands wide against his chest.

  “I knew you wouldn’t hurt me,” I replied, and wished we were in the alcove already. I hated that he could hear me over the music but I had to strain to hear him. “Plus, I didn’t mean to. Someone pushed me.”

  “What?” He reared back, eyes angry as he scanned the crowd. I stood up on my toes, cupping his jaw in my hands, and brought him back down.

  “It’s okay,” I soothed him.

  “No, lass, it ain’t.” He seemed pained and it hurt me more than I expected. “It means I can’t take your submission, no matter how m
uch I want it. It wasn’t your choice.”

  He whimpered, sounding more like a wounded pup than a man, and I remembered his words from earlier. I slid one hand down his chest, scratching him lightly with my nails, until I gripped his half-hard cock and stroked it.

  “Is my consent enthusiastic enough?” I asked, staring hard at him in challenge.

  His lips parted, his eyes going wide even as I felt him thicken in my hand. I wanted him, even if nothing else ever came of this night, I wanted him.

  “You won’t even tell me your name,” he argued, and I nodded, understanding. I stood up on my toes once more, his hands holding me steady at my hips, and I brought my mouth to his ear even as I continued to stroke him slowly.

  “Ella,” I whispered. “Only those I trust call me Ella.”

  “Ella,” he repeated, his hands flexing into my flesh.

  I smiled behind my mask and his hips thrust shallowly against me.

  “Romulus,” Merlin’s voice interrupted us and I stopped stroking him, but didn’t let go. We both turned to see the warlock and vampire pushing their way towards us through the crowd.

  “What the fuck were you playing at, letting her get pushed into the circle?” Romulus’s voice was filled with accusation.

  “We got separated.” Merlin pulled back, his hands up. “Crowd forced their way between us to see your fucking pissing match. Which, congratulations for kicking his ass, by the way.”

  “Here,” Brom held out his clothes and I let go of Romulus with regret, even as his arms released me. The men looked us over but said nothing over their friend’s clear state of arousal. “Meet us at our seats. I’ll have Hei-Sook start on the drinks.”

  “Just whiskey,” Romulus barked out as he shoved his legs into his pants, tossing his shirt over his shoulder, going without it.