by Anna Lewis
The little Honda Civic was exactly where Lara had left it the night before. Thank god for small miracles.
She gunned the engine and sped off in the direction of her cabin. Lara had big plans that day to find Russ and make him explain just what the hell he thought he was doing last night, giving her the best orgasm of her life and then unceremoniously locking her in the basement of a bar. But first she needed to get back to her cabin and wash the smell of Russ (and the stench of stale liquor from the basement) off of her body.
She whipped the car along the dirt highway and sped down her driveway, screeching to a halt in a cloud of dust. Lara didn’t even lock the car behind her, just wrenched the key from the ignition and sprinted up the steps to the front porch.
Lara froze.
There, right in front of her door where a welcome mat would be, was Killian, curled up in a tight ball and completely, totally naked.
For a moment, Lara thought he might be dead. That Russ had completely lost his mind and killed his rival, dumping Killian’s body on her doorstep in a show of primal dominance.
But no. Killian’s sides rose and fell as he slumbered deeply on the rough, old wood of the porch.
“Killian?” Lara barely whispered, and he jerked awake, eyes wide and panicked.
“Lara!” Killian breathed, but it was a strange mixture of fear and relief. “Lara, I didn’t get in last night, did I?”
Lara shook her head. What a bizarre question.
“Were you drunk last night, Killian?” she asked, searching for a suitable explanation for Killian’s naked vigil at her front door.
“No, I wasn’t drunk, I was—” Killian began, then paused. “I guess you could say I was intoxicated last night, out of my mind. I’m so sorry, Lara, did I hurt you?”
“Did you hurt me? No, Killian, you didn’t hurt me.”
“Oh, thank god,” he said.
“I wasn’t even here,” she admitted.
Killian’s brown eyes narrowed. “You weren’t here? Where were you?”
“I was…” Lara didn’t really know how to explain the previous night. How to explain to Killian that she’d spent the evening sprawled out on the bar at Dusty’s while his rival brought her to climax with his tongue and hand, that she’d then been held prisoner in the dank basement of the only bar in town.”
Killian’s nostrils flared. “You were with Russ,” he said flatly. “I should have known.” He stood up to leave, unfolding his lithe, naked body in full view of Lara. He was exquisitely sculpted, perfect in every detail. Lara tried her best to keep her eyes on his face, but they couldn’t help but wander south, down his washboard abs and resting on the soft patch of blond hair between his legs.
Killian was beautiful.
Her stomach dropped. What had she done? Why had she succumbed to Russ’ primal charms when someone like Killian—someone sweet and charming and gorgeous—was waiting for her? What was she even thinking?
“Killian, I’m sorry,” Lara said, but he cut her off with one sharp flick of his hand.
“It’s fine, Lara, it’s fine,” he told her. “We agreed that you’re Russ’. It’s only right that you went to him.”
Killians eyes widened. “Oh, no, Lara. He didn’t bite you, did he? Are you bleeding anywhere?” Killian rushed to her and dropped to his knees, hands rapidly exploring Lara’s flesh for sign of injury. If he was surprised to find her panty-less, his manners were too good to allow him to mention it.
“I’m okay, Killian,” she assured him and he sank back onto his heels, relief flooding over his handsome face.
“Thank god, Lara,” Killian breathed. “If he’d bitten you—”
“You know I’d never be that foolish, Killian.” Russ’ commanding voice rang out across the yard.
Lara and Killian both whipped around to stare at him as he strode toward them. The flannel shirt he’d been wearing the night before was ripped to shreds over his solid torso and his jeans were a soggy mess. There were no shoes on his feet.
“Russ, you need to leave,” Lara said, but the tremor in her voice was too strong to be ignored.
“That’s not what you said last night, Lara,” he retorted, his tone mocking.
Lara turned to explain to Killian, tell him everything and beg him for forgiveness, but Killian was looking at the ground, head bowed in shame.
“Killian?”
He just shook his head.
Russ joined them on the porch and leaned against the railing, arms folded. “Ask Killian what he did last night, Lara.”
“Russ, don’t—” Killian begged.
“Okay, if you don’t want to tell her, I’ll show her,” Russ said, and gestured to the front door of Lara’s cabin. Ugly, deep scores marred the wood, as if some massive animal had tried to claw its way into the house.
“What… what happened?” Lara asked.
“Killian happened,” Russ explained.
Lara turned to Killian and he finally looked at her, his face full of regret and sadness. “Killian?”
“It was me,” he admitted, dropping his head again. “I stayed here all night, I think. I have a hard time remembering on full moon nights, but I’m pretty sure I stayed here all night, trying to get in to you. Russ came and tried to stop me, but I kept coming back.”
Lara stared. “I don’t understand,” she finally managed. “How did you do something like that, Killian? You’re just a man.”
A low chuckle sounded behind Lara and then faded into a menacing growl. She turned slowly around and, in the place where Russ had stood only moments before, was a large black timber wolf.
Lara was about to run, about to open her mouth and scream but, in an instant, the wolf was gone and Russ was back in his place against the railing.
She stood froze, trembling. “I… I don’t understand,” she said.
Killian put one hand on her arm. “Let me explain.”
* * *
Once they were back in the house and Killian had draped himself in a blanket, he and Russ told Lara the whole truth.
They were brothers, kind of, but not the kind of brothers that Lara was used to.
Killian and Russ ran in a pack together, a small pack now, just the two of them. Winter’s Lake had a long tradition of magic and mysticism and was a draw for supernatural creatures of all kinds. Fairies flitted through the woods, vampires were known to drop by and a pack of werewolves had guarded the town before there even was a town.
“My father passed his dark gift along to me,” Killian told her. “He allowed himself to be bitten when he was a boy, so he could help protect Winter’s Lake, and so I allowed the same thing.”
The founding families of Winter’s Lake had passed the duty down from father to son for generations, ensuring that the town of humans had its own form of supernatural protection from whatever might emerge from the vast woods surrounding the city limits.
“So… you’re werewolves?” Lara asked, stunned.
“Yeah, pretty much,” Russ smirked.
“It’s more complicated than that, Lara,” Killian explained.
The wolves of Winter’s Lake weren’t mindless werewolves, enslaved to the full moon. These wolves, these shifters, could take their form whenever it suited them, but during the full moon—the night before, the night of, and the night after—they lost control of their transformation and became true werewolves, mindless and vicious.
“It’s a small price to pay, really, for the gift of shifting,” Killian said. “Normally, we lock ourselves up on those nights, but last night…”
“Last night, Killian was having an emotional breakdown and forgot to secure himself,” Russ said.
“Can you just stop, Russ?” Lara snapped. “I’m so sick and tired of you bullying him and—”
Lara stopped. Something was beginning to click.
“You’re a pack, right? The two of you?”
Both men nodded.
“And wolf packs have a leader, don’t they? An… what do you call it?”<
br />
“An Alpha,” Russ replied, and Lara needed only to look at the smirk on his face to know which one of the boys was the Alpha in this pack. Of course.
“So when Russ told you to leave me alone, Killian…”
“I had to obey him,” Killian looked deeply ashamed, humiliated. “I’m sorry, Lara. I like you, I have… feelings for you. But you understand that I can’t act on them if my Alpha says I can’t.”
“Russ, you absolute bastard,” Lara snapped.
“Hey! It’s not all my fault, Lara,” Russ replied. “My emotions, my human feelings, get tamped down by my wolf instincts. It’s an Alpha’s job to improve the pack, claim females. I don’t want to do that, don’t want to crush Killian, but sometimes I just can’t help it.”
“So just because you have higher status in your pack, that means you can just take whatever, or whoever, you want?” Lara asked.
Both men nodded.
“And I don’t get any say in this, do I?”
They shook their heads.
Lara bit her lip, thinking for a moment. “Russ, as long as you can claim me, then your wolfish instincts are sated?”
“Yes,” Russ replied.
“And Killian, you could only have me if Russ says you can,” she continued.
“Pretty much,” Killian sounded mortified.
“What if…” Lara paused for a moment, trying to plan her next words very, very carefully. “What if you both shared me?”
Two pairs of eyes, soft brown and ice blue, peered at her warily.
“What do you mean?” Killian asked finally.
“If Russ has me, claims me, then is Killian free to have me next?”
“Lara, what are you saying?” Russ’ face was stony.
“I’m saying that, ever since I’ve gotten here, I’ve found myself attracted to you both. Yes, Russ, you’re a dick, but there was something about you that… I don’t know. I can’t explain it, but there was something there.”
Russ nodded.
“And Killian…” Lara trailed off. She didn’t know how to put her feelings towards Killian into words. The attraction, the warmth and safety, the… love.
Russ didn’t wait for her to answer, for her to explain herself to Killian. Instead, he crossed to her and dropped to his knees in front her.
“Are you saying that you would endure me in order to have Killian?” he asked.
“No, Russ, no,” Lara argued. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m saying that I want you. I want you to take me, hard and fast, with the same ferocity that you showed last night. But I also want Killian. When you’re done with me, when you’ve had your fill, I want to be with Killian. Please.”
Russ glanced toward Killian, still wrapped in a blanket on the couch, and then back at Lara. “I think that is acceptable,” he announced.
“Thank you—” Lara began, but Russ was on her then, lifting her up from the couch and cradling her in his strong arms.
He carried her down the short hall to her bedroom, shouting back over his shoulder. “Killian, come on. That’s an order from your Alpha.”
Killian couldn’t get there fast enough.
Russ threw Lara down on her bed, ripping the remainder of her clothing off of her and stripping off his own tattered clothing. Killian had no such encumbrances, his clothes were probably in pieces somewhere on the forest floor, but he let the blanket fall from his shoulders, exposing the full glory of his naked body.
“Get her ready for me,” Russ ordered and Killian didn’t hesitate.
He fell onto the bed and buried his head between Lara’s knees, lapping at her with his eager, willing tongue.
Lara moaned once, then lost herself in the pleasure of being serviced by the man that she’d wanted for so long. She was excited, hungry, and it didn’t take Killian’s tongue long to soak her waiting entrance.
“Killian,” she breathed, then, “Russ!”
Obediently, Killian moved aside to allow his Alpha to claim her. Russ flipped her over onto all fours, then entered her with a single, determined thrust. Lara threw her head back and shrieked with pleasure at the intensity of the thrust.
Russ pushed into her deeper, swirled his hips to give all of her a taste of the hard base of his cock, then set a steady rhythm, swift and unyielding, claiming what was, by pack rights, his.
Out of the corner of her eye, Lara caught a glace of Killian kneeling on the bed next them, bright brown eyes watching intensely as his Alpha fucked into Lara with frightening intensity. His hands idly stroked his cock, keeping himself hard and interested for his turn which, judging by Russ’ harsh breathing and piston-like thrusts, wouldn’t be long.
With a howl of desire, Russ thrust into Lara one last night, his climax spilling deep inside of her. He held her hips to him as he spent himself and then shuddered, the intensity of his surrender shaking Lara to her very core.
She dropped her head and collapsed face down onto the bed as Russ slid out of her.
“Are you okay?” Killian’s soft voice whispered in the shell of her ear.
She hummed with contentment. “Mmmm, hmmmm,” Lara managed. “You now, Killian. Please?”
Killian looked at Russ for permission and the Alpha’s blue eyes were bright with anticipation.
“You may have her, Killian,” Russ allowed.
Killian was gentle as he turned Lara over on her back.
“I want to see you,” he explained, rough hands running down her body, tracing soft circles around each supple breast. “You are so beautiful, Lara.”
He kissed her then, soft and shyly, as if he were unable to believe that she was actually his. Lara felt another hand in her hair. Russ was leaning over both of them, a sly smile dancing across his face.
“I want to watch you, Lara,” he whispered. “I want to watch you come for my boy.”
Killian lined the head of his cock up with Lara’s wet entrance and slowly, so slowly, he inched inside of her. The walls of her pussy were still sensitive from the primal pounding Russ had just given her and every thrust from Killian sparked a new mix of pleasure and pain.
He started slowly, sliding the full length of his lovely cock in and out of her, letting Lara savor every bit of him, until his strong forearms were shaking from the effort of holding himself over her.
“Killian,” she begged. “Faster.”
Lara didn’t have to ask twice. Killian drove into her, his need growing with every single thrust. Lara’s hips bucked up into his, driving him on—harder, faster—toward her own climax.
She felt a finger gently caress her clit and she looked down, shocked to see Russ’ hand buried in her crotch as Killian fucked into her.
“Oh!” she managed and then she was gone, overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure of being shared by these two beautiful men. Lara’s climax ripped through her small body and, as she trembled with her own release, she could feel Killian seize up and spill inside of her, cumming with a low moan.
Then stayed like that, joined together, until Lara thought she might be in danger of being crushed. Killian slowly removed himself from her, then pulled her around to his front, intending to wrap his arms around her and spoon her.
Russ stopped him with one hand, then quickly repositioned everyone on the bed. Lara resting against Killian’s back, Russ protectively wrapped around Lara.
This was nice, Lara thought, happy to be a strange new addition to the wolf pack of Winter’s Lake.
THE END
= Bonus Book 6 of 8 =
Owned by the Dragons
PROLOGUE
SAMARA:
“Samara, my little goose, I will need you to summon one of your Dead for me,” Lex said lightly. I frowned. I should never have done it the first time, I thought. A few weeks before, I had summoned the spirit of my mother. I had, like any girl in a long-term relationship, wanted my boyfriend to meet her. I realized then that maybe I had made a mistake in showing my demon-shifter boyfriend how strong my powers as a Necromancer were. We wer
e standing in the luxurious living room in Lex’s penthouse apartment. It was sleekly decorated in black leather modern style furniture and gold accent pieces. A Goya was perfectly poised above the black and white mosaic fireplace, which held a roaring fire, as was Lex’s wont. We had just returned from an extravagant dinner at one of the most extravagant restaurants in the city—oysters, champagne, filet mignon, a decadent seven-layer cake. Lex spoiled me rotten.
“Again? Why?” I asked, trying to keep the alarm out of my voice. Lex was several thousand years old, however he looked to be in his early thirties. His looks were model-level gorgeous. He had angular features, a straight nose, and a razor-sharp jaw. He had thick, dark black hair and deep brown eyes that he used to hide their true red glow. His teeth were white, perfect, even if his canines had a bit of a sharp point to them.
“I need a little… help on something,” he replied vaguely. My eyes instantly narrowed.
“What kind of help?” I said. He looked at me uneasily. It was obvious he didn’t want to tell me.
“Does it matter?” he said. He was getting cagey. Something was definitely off. I saw a sharp red gleam flit across his warm brown eyes.
“I does, in fact,” I told my boyfriend. I kept my voice light and even, turning my gaze to the large floor-to-ceiling window in his penthouse apartment and looking out over the city. It was night, and the sky was ink-black. The city lights glowed golden and red, lighting up the buildings like an anthill fairyland. I could see my face in the reflection; pale, worried. I relaxed my jaw, hoping that it would be enough.
“It’s no concern of yours, Samara,” he replied. “Just summon a few for me, please?” The way he said it, it sounded as though he thought it were nothing—a simple favor, like borrowing a cup of sugar. Warning bells were going off inside of me. This was wrong. What could he possibly want? Raising the Dead was not a simple thing. It took real power, and had massive consequences when misused.
