His eyes bulged and he cried out in pain—her wolf sure did love that sound.
Frankie gave him a mocking smile. “Why did the black bear cross the road? Because the she-wolf wanted to jerk him off with a pencil sharpener.”
“You little bitch.”
“I like to think of myself as more of a hemorrhoid. I mean, look how gifted I am at irritating assholes—you’re practically steaming.” She sheathed her claws, releasing him.
He cradled his hand. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“Depends what day it is.”
He looked about to curse a blue streak, but then he froze as some of the Phoenix and Mercury Pack members appeared, including Derren and Zander. All of them radiated hostility as they glared at Rio. At the same time, Ally hurried down the bar to see what was happening.
“What did you say to her?” Marcus demanded.
Rio widened his eyes. “Me? She just stabbed my damn hand!”
“He just wanted me to be clear that Trick prefers guys to girls and it would be better for us both if I left Trick before we fully imprinted,” Frankie told them. “I did explain that we’re true mates and that Rio should just walk away, but he needed a little . . . convincing.”
Marcus went toe to toe with him. “You tried to get between Trick and his mate? You actually fucking tried that?”
Rio swallowed. “She needed to hear the truth. You know as well as I do that he’s g—”
“Mated,” Marcus finished. “He’s mated and happy. You saw that for yourself. That’s why you came over here. You resent that she can make him happy when it was something you could never do. I told you long ago that pursuing him was pointless. There was only one person he’d ever commit to, but you didn’t want to see that. Tonight, you did. And instead of being happy for the guy you’ve repeatedly claimed to care about, you’re trying to plant seeds of doubt in his mate’s head to spoil what they have.”
“You’re lucky all she did was stab your hand,” said Taryn. “If she’d had a hammer nearby, things would have worked out very differently.”
“Hammer?” echoed Ally.
“I’ll tell you about it later,” Taryn told her.
Derren clenched his fists, still glaring at Rio. “I’m thinking we should continue this conversation in the alley outside.” Translation: he thought they should take the bear outside and pound into him a little.
“That’s an idea I can get behind,” said Zander.
Marcus fisted Rio’s collar and began dragging him toward the rear of the club.
“Wait!” cried Rio, but they didn’t.
Zander lingered long enough to shoot a look of warning at his mate. “Stay here with the others. Don’t go off on your own.”
He started to follow the other males when Gwen called out, “Wait, before you go, is it all right if I just . . .” Trailing off, she shook her head. “It’s okay. Never mind.”
Zander’s eyes narrowed. “Gwen, spit it out.”
She waved a hand. “Really, it doesn’t matter.”
“Tell me what you were going to say.”
“But it doesn’t matter,” she insisted, eyes wide with innocence.
He swore. “Stop testing my sanity.”
“But it’s fun to watch you lose it a slice at a time.”
With another curse, he strode off.
Smiling, Gwen said, “His protectiveness knows no boundaries.”
Harley sighed. “I can relate. I’m pretty sure it’s a dominant male thing.”
“Yeah,” agreed Shaya. “I feel sorry for them in a lot of ways. They never seem to realize that they’re actually never going to get their own way all the time. They keep insisting on it. It’s like watching people purposely bang their heads against a brick wall. Weird or what?”
Jesse cleared his throat. “I’m right here.”
Shaya waved that away. “Ally, I’m still not drunk. Help me.”
“You got it,” said the Beta.
The hinges squealed as Trick pushed open the heavy wooden door. It scraped noisily against the plank floor. Unless there was a captive, no one set foot in the hut. They deliberately neglected it, wanting it to look as miserable and grubby as possible.
It stank of dirt, dust, and rot. It was bare apart from a hard chair, a torn mattress, and a red bucket. The windows were smudged with dirt, and there were stains on the floor thanks to the leaky roof. Dead flies dotted the windowsills, and there were some very elaborate spiderwebs in the corners of the ceiling. This far away from the cave dwelling, all that could be heard was the whine of mosquitoes and the tree branches scratching the outer walls.
Trick’s gaze immediately went to Drake, whose arms and legs were tightly bound to a chair by a thick rope. Rope was also looped around his chest.
In short, Drake wasn’t going anywhere. And he seemed very aware of it.
Rather than thrashing around, fighting his restraints, he sat very still. He wasn’t sweating or breathing hard. Though his heartbeat was a little fast, it wasn’t pounding with fear. Drake knew he wasn’t getting out of this alive, and he’d apparently decided to accept that.
Trick’s wolf wanted his fear. Wanted to see and smell it, just as he wanted to see and smell his blood.
The boards creaked with each step Trick took forward. Trey, Ryan, Dante, and Dominic fanned out behind him. Their captive didn’t look good at all. His hair was greasy and unkempt, and his clothes were wrinkled and scruffy. Wherever the guy had been hiding, he clearly hadn’t had access to clean clothes or a shower.
Drake glanced around Trick. “Your girlfriend isn’t with you? Shame. I like her.”
He seemed to genuinely mean it. “She broke your nose,” Trick reminded him.
“And almost bashed my head in with a hammer. She’s a fighter. I like that.”
“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s my mate.”
“Well, that explains a few things. Like why you had your pack mate run me down like a rabid dog.” He flicked a look at Ryan.
Trick folded his arms across his chest. “From the things your Alpha said, that’s pretty much what you are. He suspended you as Beta. And he claims to have cut you loose too.”
Drake scoffed. “Nash is no Alpha.”
“True. And you’re no Beta.”
“True,” allowed Drake, unoffended. “So how is this gonna go? Execution? Brawl? Torture? In your position, I’d go the torture route. I would have tortured your mate if I could have. Well, not until I’d fucked every orifice in her body.” He sighed when Trick didn’t allow himself to be goaded. “Not easy to rattle, are ya?”
“It’s hard to take that kind of stuff seriously when it’s streaming out of the mouth of a guy who got his ass kicked by a girl.”
“She didn’t kick my ass.”
“No, you did the kicking. Cracked a rib. You also bruised her jaw. Put a goose egg on her head. Fractured a bone in her leg. Pricked her neck with your claws. And almost dislocated her shoulder.” Anger thrumming through his system, Trick took another step forward. “So tell me, Drake, what do you think I’m going to do to you?”
“Tit for tat,” Drake guessed, his voice flat, his eyes dull.
“That’s right. I’ll revisit every injury you gave her right on back to you—only each wound will be ten times worse.” And Trick would relish every fucking moment of it.
“If you hadn’t knocked me down at the meeting, Nash wouldn’t have sent me your way.”
“You came after me in the restroom to get even.”
“On Nash’s say-so. He told me I’d lose the respect of the pack if I didn’t retaliate. It wasn’t until later, after my failed attempt to follow his order to kidnap your girlfriend, that I realized he was playing us all.”
Trick lifted a brow. “You think he’s playing us?”
“I’m not the brightest lamp on the street, but even I can see he was using me. If I’d killed you, what would your Alpha have done?”
“Demanded that Morelli hand you over f
or execution.”
Drake gave a lazy nod. “That’s right. And then your Alpha would have owed Nash. What do you think Nash would have asked for? An alliance, right?”
“It’s a possibility. But it wouldn’t explain why you tried to kidnap my mate.”
“He wanted Trey to go to him for help. I told him it wouldn’t work. I told him that your pack’s tracker would be sent to find her. But Nash was sure that Trey would want his help, and then everyone could work together. Nash planned to call Trey to say he’d ‘found’ your girl. He said he wouldn’t demand an alliance for handing her over. Said he wouldn’t have to. He thinks you’d have felt like you owed him.” Drake let out a long breath. “I wasn’t convinced it would work out that way, but I followed orders.”
“And you think that you should therefore be spared?”
“No.” He released a dejected sigh. “I’ve done worse to others than what I’ve done to your girl. Karma comes for us all. But if I’m going down, Nash can sure as hell come down with me.” His eyes twinkled as he added, “Bet you haven’t been able to find out where he came from. On record, it’s like he just sprang out of nowhere, isn’t it?”
Dante came forward. “You know his real identity?”
“Well, that depends on how quick you intend to kill me.”
Sighing, Dante shook his head. “Why do people always try to bargain for a quick death?”
“It’s the only thing a captive has left to bargain with when they know they’re not getting out of the situation alive,” said Drake.
“That’s true enough.” Trick sliced out his claws, satisfied when their captive jerked. “Unfortunately for you, Drake, I really don’t care where he’s from.”
For the first time, Drake’s eyes flickered with panic. “You should care. Nash wants war.”
“We sensed that much,” said Dominic, sounding bored.
“But did you sense that he’s not working alone?” asked Drake. “Someone picked him, gave him a new ID, helped him become an Alpha, and then set him on a new path.”
“Who?” demanded Trey.
“I don’t know who it was. He never called them by their name. But he did say that they’re human. An extremist.” Drake made a sound of disgust. “Those guys are nuts. I got no damn idea why Nash would be willing to work with one of them. But I know that they want war as badly as he does. They’re planning to start it together.”
“What you’re saying is that Morelli and a human extremist are working together to then later destroy each other?” asked Trey, not bothering to hide his disbelief.
“No,” replied Drake. “The agreement is that Nash and his closest alliances won’t be attacked. But he’ll give up the locations of those who are hiding. Like you, Trey. If you’d agreed to that alliance, he’d have placed all the vulnerable shifters here, taken your best fighters with him, and left you to die at the hands of extremists.”
Trick twisted his mouth. “Well, that was a great story. Maybe there’s some truth in it—we’ll look into that. For now, my interest is purely in you. I really do hope you have a low pain threshold.” Trick balled up his fist and slammed it into Drake’s jaw.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
She was in bed when Trick walked into the room hours later. She looked young in her sleep, he thought. Especially with her hand tucked under her chin and the lines of her face smoothed into an expression of pure peace.
For a minute he stood near the bed, just watching her. Watching the slight rise and fall of her chest. He wanted to go to her. Touch her, wake her, slip inside her. But he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until he was calmer. Not until he’d washed off the blood and violence.
In the bathroom he shed his clothes and stepped into the shower stall. He tipped back his head and closed his eyes as the hot spray pounded down on him. Even though Drake was literally dead and buried, Trick felt no real satisfaction. Not now that he knew Drake had been just a puppet. Nothing short of Nash Morelli’s head on a pike would ease the lingering agitation that rode him.
His wolf wasn’t even close to calming. Not while a threat to his mate still existed. Not when she still hadn’t been fully avenged and—
There was a slight draft on his back as the shower door opened, and then soft hands slid around him. Trick let out a long breath. Fuck, he wanted her. Needed her. But he didn’t want her to have to deal with this side of him. “Baby—”
“Shh.” Frankie squirted some soap onto her hands and then lathered it into his shoulders. She didn’t rush. Didn’t talk. Just gave him the peace that she sensed he needed.
It hadn’t been the sound of the water running that woke her. It had been the feel of his agitation pulsing down their mating bond. She figured he’d probably prefer to be alone, but she could no more ignore the need to soothe him than she could ignore the need to eat.
She soaped down his shoulders and back, digging her fingers into his skin just enough for it to feel good and push away the tension. Little by little, his muscles lost their stiffness, and the frustration buzzing down their bond simmered down to a slight hum.
“Turn around for me,” she said. He did, and she washed his chest, abs, and arms. She’d meant to comfort him, not arouse him, but his cock was hard as steel and she could feel his need. It amplified her own, tightening her nipples and making her breasts ache. She ignored it as best she could—this here and now was about him.
Smoothing his hands down her back to palm her ass, Trick put his mouth to her ear. “I can smell how wet you are.” The sweet scent of her need filled the stall, making his head spin and his cock throb. Nuzzling her neck, he scraped his teeth over the claiming mark. “Mine.”
“Yours,” agreed Frankie. He brought his mouth down hard on hers. Gripping his shoulders, she moaned. The kiss was hot, wet, and hungry. He plundered and dominated and demanded her submission.
“Your throat,” he rumbled. “Give me your throat.”
Oh, now, that was asking for a lot more submission than she was comfortable giving. Frankie didn’t mind following his orders and letting him take the lead—it was often to her benefit, and she didn’t get a kick out of controlling others anyway. But offering him her throat? Yeah, that was asking a lot. “Trick—”
“Give me your throat.”
She lifted her chin. “No.”
His eyes narrowed. “All right.”
Unease pricked at her. Trick generally wasn’t the type to back down when he wanted something, especially during sex. His mouth took hers again, tongue sinking inside and exploring every crevice as he backed her against the tiled wall. He raised one of her arms, and she felt something wrap around her wrist. He did the same thing with the other, and then her foggy brain remembered . . . suction cup restraints.
Well, fuck. She’d noticed them before. He’d taunted her that he’d use them one day, when she was least expecting it. Well, she sure hadn’t seen it coming just now.
Trick hummed in satisfaction at the perfect picture she made right then. “Cuffed, helpless, and mine to play with.”
The “helpless” part both pricked at her pride and fueled her need. Frankie might have fought him, if only for the fun of it, but she sensed that he needed this. Needed to lose himself in what they had. Needed the control that he’d no doubt shed tonight while he did what he had to do. So rather than fighting him, she remained still. And that earned her a lazy, lopsided grin.
Trick trailed his fingers down her neck, between the valley of her breasts, down to her stomach. “You look so fucking hot right now, Frankie.” His cock was full and heavy, throbbing like a bitch. “My Frankie.”
He kept his touch featherlight as he grazed his fingers over the plump lips of her pussy. He slipped his finger between her folds just enough to skim over her clit. Her hips jerked toward him, and he smiled. His mate had the most sensitive clit he’d ever come across in his life, and he loved to tease her endlessly. Loved pushing her as far as she could go. Which was why he said, “I think I’ll come back to that later.”
“You know it is.” Frankie gasped as he caught her clit between two fingers and squeezed just a little. He slid his fingers forward and backward, rubbing both sides of her clit with each glide. Oh God. She hooked one leg over his hip to lock him in place as the tension built inside her. Every part of her ached for him. Responded to him. Craved him.
“Frankie, give me your throat.”
She hissed. “Why do you want it so bad?”
“I need to know you’ll give me anything. Everything.” He sank his finger back into her pussy, scooped out more lube, and smeared it all over her clit. “There’s only one thing I wouldn’t do for you, Frankie—and that’s let you go. I’ll never give you freedom. But anything else? It’s yours.” He circled, rubbed, and pinched her clit. “Give me what I want.”
Frankie squeezed her eyes shut. Even while she was out of her mind with need, her pride balked at his request. But the heart that he’d won and now totally owned wanted to give him whatever he needed. And the heart won out over her pride.
A growl rumbled out of Trick as she tipped her head back, giving him her throat. Like that, his control evaporated like mist. He tore open the Velcro cuffs to free her hands. “Hold on.” He lifted her high and roughly dropped her on his cock. Her breath seemed to gust out of her lungs, but her pussy rippled around him. And he knew neither of them would last long.
He braced his hands against the wall, keeping his arms straight. “Ride me.”
Frankie locked her legs around him as she gripped his shoulders and rode his cock like their survival depended on it. All the while, his mouth drove her insane—sucking on her neck, biting her earlobe, teasing her claiming bite, and whispering some seriously dirty fantasies down her ear.
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