by Zoey Marcel
Chanel sucked in a rapid breath, feeling too much adrenaline to focus on slow, deep breathing.
“I will drag you down to hell with me!” Lucius threatened. “You like foursomes? I have some demon friends I’d be happy to share you with in all our forms.”
She wept, trying to shut out the visions of a damned future he haunted her with. “You have no power over me.”
Chanel didn’t know if her denouncement of him sent him from her mind or if the flood of nirvana sweeping over her did the trick. Volcanic heat bubbled in her pussy and diffused throughout her system, setting her veins ablaze with fiery awareness as her release hit her hard and unrelenting. Her cunt and ass clamped onto their aroused organs as she screamed in abandon, writhing against their masculine bodies. Their generous erections prevented her holes from contracting entirely and the fullness sent an electrical charge bolting through her body.
The sound of two of her cowboys coming while the other one watched was pure rapture. Their harsh, overcome breaths were loud and scintillating. Brad and Dawson pulled out of Chanel and set her down. Their bodies trembled and Brad shut off the water.
Dawson threw his arms around her in a big bear hug. “How do you feel, honey?”
She swallowed down an achy lump in her throat as tears of joy welled in her eyes. “Free.”
Chapter Twenty:
Heart-Shaped Box
Cory was stoked. They would buy Chanel’s engagement ring tonight. She’d let them claim her, agreed to be Brad’s slave, and was carrying their baby. The only thing left was to make her their wife.
He heard the doorbell and went to answer it. A little blonde girl stood on the porch with cuts and dirt smeared on her skin and watery eyes.
“What the—crap, are you all right?” he asked.
“We were in a car accident. Can I use your bathroom?”
“Yeah, sure. Come on in.” Cory held the door open wide.
She smiled and glanced over her shoulder before stepping inside. “It looks like my dad’s coming. Do you mind if he comes in and uses your phone to call a ride for us?”
Cory headed toward the cordless phone in the living room. “Not at all. I’ll get it for you.”
“I really appreciate you inviting us into your home like this. You have no idea what it means.”
“No problem, miss...”
“Penny. My name is Penny.”
Why did that name ring a bell? The answer hit him about the same time something else did on the back of his head and everything went black.
* * * *
Chanel finished blow-drying her hair in her room. Her body still hummed with awareness from the steamy shower she’d just had with Cory. He’d gotten out first and she lingered in the hot water.
She recalled Brad’s words to her earlier this morning before he and Dawson had left to go hunt down Lucius. “I’ve got a heart-shaped box on my dresser. Inside there’s a slave collar that’s been in our family for generations. It’s yours whenever you’re ready to put it on.”
She padded over to Brad’s room and saw the ornate silver box that was shaped like a heart sitting on his dresser. It was lovely, but when she opened the box and beheld the collar, it took her breath away. It looked more like an elegant necklace from another century. The choker was made of some kind of silver metal with delicate tiers of polished jades and sparkling pink diamonds connected by tiny, shimmering rhinestones.
He’d told her that none of his subs had ever worn this collar. He’d saved it for her. Apparently, it was customary in their family to pass these jewels on to their sons to give to their mates.
Chanel closed the box, startled when she heard Cory yell “silver stake!” through their link just before he went silent.
She crept back to her room and removed the stake made of pure silver that Brad had given her last night to carry with her in case Lucius ever tried to bother her again. She wasn’t sure where he’d gotten one, but it made her feel safe.
She spoke to Cory, asking what he meant and if he was all right, but he didn’t answer her. His sudden silence after his frantic outcry terrified her. She tiptoed down the hall, tempted to call his name, but unsure of the wisdom in doing so if there was someone here.
Her heart slammed into her and nearly stopped beating when Lucius came out into the open with a gun, waiting for her.
“Hello, Chanel.”
She became crazy with worry when she saw Cory lying still and bound in ropes on the floor. “Is he okay?”
“He’s unconscious, but he’ll be dead if you don’t do exactly as I say.”
Her stomach turned. “How did you get inside?”
Lucius gave her a sinister smile and Penny stepped into Chanel’s line of sight, looking like an evil child.
“The poor-little-kid-in-distress act works every time,” Penny said. “Do you still need me, Lucius?”
“No, you’re free to go. There are things that will transpire here that wouldn’t be appropriate for your eyes,” he said sardonically, keeping his focus on Chanel.
Penny laughed. “You know I’m much older than I look, but I’ll leave you to your X-rated endeavors. Good-bye now.”
She left and Lucius kept the gun pointed at Chanel. “And now, slave. You’re going to drop that stake and come away with me.”
Chanel was tempted to throw it at him, but didn’t have any experience with throwing knives, let alone stakes. “No.”
His pale blue eyes turned to deadly icicles that chilled her to the bone as he cocked the hammer on his gun. “If you use that word with me again, I’ll kill him. This gun contains silver bullets and I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that fox shifters can’t survive after being shot in the heart with one.”
Her eyes burned and she dropped the stake.
“Kick it away from you.”
She complied, pleading with Brad and Dawson through their link to come home.
* * * *
Dawson and Brad were sniffing out the trails Lucius had left behind, but oddly they led to dead ends. They gave up the search the second they heard Chanel’s voice in their heads. Brad shifted into his mountain lion and sprinted home while Dawson sped home in the truck. He parked out of sight of the house and sneaked up.
He saw Brad shift back into his human counterpart and quickly re-dress before slipping stealthily into the house.
Dawson crept around to the back and used his pocket knife to cut a hole in the screened window to the laundry room. Hopefully, the running dryer would drown out the sound of him heaving his bulk inside. It was a small window, but he managed to get through all right.
He tiptoed through the house, matching his back up against a wall and peeking around a corner to see Cory bound and squirming on the floor, screeching angrily into a gag as he watched what Dawson witnessed. Lucius was lying on top of Chanel with a gun pointed at her as he threatened to shoot her if Brad came any closer.
“You’re not taking her anywhere,” Brad told him, looking fierce.
Lucius snickered. “Who’s going to stop me? You?”
Brad folded his arms. “You bet your ass I will.”
“Come out from over there, Dawson, or I’ll put a bullet in her,” Lucius warned.
Dawson’s eyes closed and he stepped into the living room. The were-vamp must have had an acute sense of smell.
“I’m not giving her up to a son of a bitch who’s sick enough to murder his own son,” said Brad.
Lucius glanced down at Chanel and smirked. “You didn’t tell them, did you? Were you afraid they would stop loving you if they knew?”
“Knew what?” Brad asked.
Lucius’s eyes were cruel, betraying his delight in Chanel’s suffering as he stared at her while answering Brad’s question. “Trevor wasn’t my son. He was Dawson’s.”
Dawson’s mouth fell open and his heart went out to Chanel when he saw the misery on her face.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered.
Tears poured from her e
yes and they squeezed shut in anguish.
Lucius grinned as he honed in on her torment. “Maybe she knew that killing one’s own child is an unforgivable offense, even between soul mates. Didn’t I tell you, princess? No one loves you unconditionally except for me.”
Brad glared at him. “You’re wrong, Lucius.”
“Just let them go,” Chanel pleaded. “This is between you and me.”
“You see, I thought so, too, and then you betrayed me by fucking other men and taking another Master,” Lucius said in a dark tone. “You remember I told you what would happen if you ever did that.”
Before anyone could react, he turned the gun and shot Brad.
“Brad!” Dawson screamed and ran at Lucius. He grabbed the vampire’s arm to keep him from shooting Cory as well.
Lucius punched Dawson in the face and knocked him over. He landed on his back with a hard thud, getting the wind knocked out of him.
He saw Cory trying to shift into his fox to free himself, yelping at the rope burn as his body contorted and changed.
Dawson looked up in time to see that Lucius still straddled Chanel, but he’d moved enough when Dawson rushed him to give her access to the silver stake that had apparently been lying on the floor just beyond her reach. With a vehement outcry, she rammed it into Lucius’s chest. He gasped as blood began to soak his shirt and he rolled off of her onto his back.
Dawson freed Cory so he wouldn’t shift completely and break his fox legs. He then knelt by Brad, who was bleeding profusely, but gradually recovering. “Are you all right?”
Brad nodded, holding the bloody bullet in his open palm. “It was silver, not gold. I’ll be fine.”
Dawson heard Cory’s fox yapping and saw a fluffy, russet blur lunge at Lucius.
“You belong to me!” Lucius growled and rammed the stake into Chanel’s chest.
Her bloodcurdling scream echoed in the large room and shattered Dawson’s heart. She’d missed Lucius’s heart when she plunged the stake into him.
Dawson attacked Lucius and Brad shifted into his mountain lion and joined them in assaulting Lucius, who’d shifted into his wolf form. The scene was a frantic blur of fur, teeth, and claws as they fought.
At one point, Brad became human again and had the stake in his hand as he plunged it into the wolf’s chest. The animal yelped before turning back into Lucius and finally to dust just before he disappeared. It was over. Lucius was dead.
Cory turned human again and he, Brad, and Dawson crawled over to Chanel, who held a cloth soaked with her blood over her wound as she struggled to breathe.
“Jesus.” Cory’s eyes spilled with tears. “Hang on, baby. I’ll call 911. It’s gonna be okay.”
Brad’s eyes brimmed with tears like both of his brothers’ were. “The son of a bitch stabbed her in the chest with silver.”
“But she can’t die,” Dawson protested, crying against her skin as he kissed her hand. “She’s not a wolf anymore. We claimed her.”
Brad brushed a strand of hair from her face. “We’re going to drive you to the hospital, sweetheart. The fact that you’re still alive is a good sign.”
“I’m...cold,” she whispered with tears in her eyes.
His eyes were red with grief and became wetter at her suffering. “I know. It’s gonna be okay.”
“Yeah, only if she took after you or Dawson. If she’s a fox now like me, she’s fucked,” Cory sobbed.
“Hold your tongue!” Brad growled. He put one arm under Chanel’s neck and hooked the other under her knees. “I’m going to pick you up, darlin’. Keep holding that cloth over your wound.”
Chanel wailed in agony when he tried to move her, her injury bleeding more now.
Brad shook his head. “The hospital’s too far away.”
“The ambulance is on their way,” Cory informed him.
“We can’t wait for them,” Dawson argued. “Damn it, she’s dying!”
“Fuck you! Don’t say that!” Cory yelled.
“No, he’s right,” Brad agreed, the tears coming faster. “Chanel, listen to me. I want you to shift.”
“What? Are you crazy?” Dawson and Cory shrieked in unison. “The shift alone could kill her when she’s already slipping so fast.”
Chanel tried to talk, but couldn’t. She mouthed the words. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Now do it,” Brad commanded firmly.
Her face looked like she concentrated on doing so before writhing in pain.
“It hurts so badly. I don’t think I can,” she spoke to them through their bond.
“Yes, you can, damn it!” Brad snarled. “You’re the town bitch. Are you really going to let a little poke kick your ass?”
She smiled weakly before her face twisted in anguish. “Brad—”
“Don’t ‘Brad’ me, slave. Your Master just ordered you to shift. Now shift, damn you!”
Her face became focused again and Chanel let out a scream as she transformed into...what the hell was that exactly? She had the face and ears of a rabbit, a bushy fox tail, and the body and legs of a mountain lion. She was a perfect blend of all three of her mates and utterly adorable.
“Oh my god, she’s so cute!” Cory exclaimed, wiping away his tears.
Dawson felt a wave of relief and said a grateful prayer to God when he saw her blood returning to the hole from which it came, and her wound receded and closed.
Brad’s gunshot wound likewise was fully healed now as he showered Chanel’s face with kisses once she shifted back. They would both be all right.
“Darlin’, why didn’t you tell me Trevor was my son?” Dawson asked.
Her head hung. “I didn’t know I was pregnant until after I broke up with you. I wanted to tell you, but after the way I hurt you, I didn’t think I deserved your forgiveness.”
“You should’ve told me when you came here.”
“I’m the reason Trevor’s gone. I couldn’t look you in the eye and tell you that.”
He brushed away her tears and coaxed her head up. “It wasn’t your fault. And Lucius was wrong. We’re the ones who love you unconditionally.”
She smiled, appearing touched. “I have pictures of Trevor.”
His heart warmed. “I’d love to see them.”
* * * *
It had been three days since Chanel had healed and they’d been watching her with hawk eyes, vowing she would never suffer like that again.
She’d gotten excited when Dawson showed her the pictures he still had of them through high school. He and Chanel had always given each other copies of pictures they took back then, and she’d been overjoyed that Dawson had copies of photos Lucius had made her burn years ago.
Cory had been sweet enough to make a grave for Trevor, which moved her to tears. They all assured her that she would see him again someday, which seemed to comfort her.
Chanel had a doctor’s visit earlier that day, and while she was only about fifteen weeks along and wouldn’t be able to know the baby’s gender for a few more weeks, they all got to have their first look at their little one on the sonogram while the doctor looked it over and told them that the baby looked healthy.
Seeing the radiant smile and misty, green eyes on their mate and the wiggly little life on the screen that he and his brothers had placed inside her choked Brad up. He didn’t cry, but if he’d been alone he might’ve shed a tear of joy.
That evening, Brad sat at the table with his brothers, trying to decide when and where to propose to their mate, when Chanel walked in. His cock sprang to attention in his pants when he saw the virginal white shelf bra and G-string thong she wore. The bra had an underwire and straps, but no cups to cover up those lush, perky tits. Her long, brown hair was swept back in a ponytail and she was barefoot as she carried a bowl of water and some cloths over to them.
He got excited when he saw her set the heart-shaped box on the table.
“Hey, cookie cutter,” Cory waved at her from his end of the table. “What you got there?”
r /> Chanel said nothing as she knelt before him and removed his socks, planting a kiss on each foot before she dipped a rag into the water, wrung it out lightly, and washed his feet with it.
He looked confused and grinned. “Um, thanks.”
Brad watched in fascination as she washed his brother’s feet before unfastening Cory’s pants.
“Oh, yeah,” Cory said with a grin.
Chanel smiled, but kept her head down reverently and began loving all over his meat.
Brad wasn’t sure what she was doing exactly, but it was really sweet of her. He heard Cory’s cry of pleasure as he came in her pretty mouth.
She kissed the tip and put his spent dick away before walking on her knees over to Dawson. She gave his feet and cock the same treatment as she had Cory’s, acting as though to have her mouth on them was the highest honor.
Suddenly, it hit Brad what Chanel was doing. Years ago, he’d stood in line to make a withdrawal at the bank back when she worked there as a teller. She’d rejected his invitation to come home with him and his brothers and handed him his cash, looking annoyed and aroused by his presence.
He still recalled how soft and warm she’d felt and the way her breath caught and her lips parted when he took her wrist and caressed sensual circles into it with his finger. Her pulse had rushed beneath his strokes and he’d smelled her cream as he whispered decadently to her.
“Someday we’ll have you like that. We’ll fill your pussy and fuck your ass and make you scream our names when you come.”
She’d blushed. “That’s never going to happen, Brad. And for god’s sake, lower your voice.”
His voice had risen, knowing with no small degree of humor what a bastard he was. “Yes, it will. But that’s not all. You’ll suck our dicks, too. You’re gonna love it, babe.”
Her cheeks had turned a bright pink. “You pervert, lower your voice. I have no desire to suck your...goods.”
The pheromones dancing around her had suggested otherwise. He’d gently kissed each fingertip, delighting in the way her chest heaved with desire.