by Rose Haven
He would have handed the lordship to Avery, if it weren't for the issue of Avery's human blood, which meant that doing so would incite lesser principalities to revolt. It was a headache he didn't need, and certainly not one Avery was ready for. Just one more way Emilie rose from the grave to drag nails down his back. But thoughts of Emilie drifted to thoughts of Elizabeth, treating him to rousing memories of her heaving breasts and cries of delight. She had made his life exciting again. Even as he sat in a meeting listening to the whining of a sharecropper who disliked his servants, life didn't seem so dreadful. Across his disinterested gaze played images of Elizabeth writhing around his cock, clutching at the headboard as her eyes rolled back and her talented tongue pressed into her upper palette. She begged him for more, and more he gave. Whatever she wished of him—for her, he was a kind lord indeed.
"I just find the idea of halflings being paid for their labor absurd," the sharecropper went on, to which Luthias gave no reply. "The fact that I allow them a place in my home is charity enough, but I should hardly be forced to pay them wages like true demons. Someone of your pedigree ought to understand my aversion."
Luthias, still distracted by the naked Elizabeth of his thoughts—far more appealing than this man who had somehow fattened himself despite their kind's unnatural metabolism—answered with surprising clarity.
"If you do not pay your workers, you are confessing to me that you keep slaves. Slave owners are put to death in the public square. Do I make myself understood?"
The sharecropper was immediately silent. Luthias had raised his hand to dismiss him when the doors burst open. He was unsurprised to find Kieran there, his long white hair as always an unkempt mess, holes in an overcoat that was surely presentable at some point. His halfling brother's mere existence undermined Luthias' authority.
"Mutt," was Luthias' greeting.
"This isn't the time, asshole," Kieran said, apparently agitated. "Elizabeth is gone."
He must not have fully processed these words, when first said. He stared at Kieran, the mask of indifference lingering for a long, long moment. Yet though he remained motionless, Ezekial recognized the danger, and quickly collected the sharecropper.
"I'll see you to the door, Mr. Hennessy," Ezekial urged.
White as a sheet, the sharecropper would follow his lead. Avery sighed, exchanging a look with Ezekial before the advisor closed the doors behind him.
When only the family was left in the room, Luthias slowly came to his feet. His eyes never left Kieran, whose impatience was now an insult to the lord's gift of prolonged silence. The mask was now falling—red swirled in the whiteness of his eyes, gaze narrowing to slits as his tense fingers arched on the table, cracking the smooth surface as claws extended.
"I must have misheard," Luthias said, tone still smooth. "The mutt's sole task was ensuring my woman remained on palace grounds. The mutt did assure me that he was capable of simple tasks."
"Jesus Christ, Luthias," Kieran said—not nearly as afraid as he should have been. "She was sick and I left for a second to get someone, how was I was supposed to know there were Wolves—”
"Wolves?"
"Father—”
Avery's hand on his shoulder did nothing to restrain him. The span of the room was crossed in an instant and Kieran was left dangling off the ground, snarling and clawing at Luthias' iron grip.
"Fucking h-hell, bastard," Kieran spat, struggling to force the words out of a collapsing windpipe. "I'm trying to tell you what happened!"
"My woman has been stolen from my own castle due to your ineptitude, by a species more flea-ridden than you. I would sooner see you dead than suffer your excuses."
"Father, please put Uncle Kieran down," Avery said, exasperated. "He's clearly your only lead."
Avery's relative calm inspired a fleeting moment of clarity in Luthias; the lord dropped his brother, who gasped the air back into his lungs. He rubbed his neck, cursing.
"It's always right for the throat with you, god damn."
"Speak before I change my mind."
"I was trying to say that the idiots left a note," he said, finally revealing a scrap of paper from his pocket. "They clearly have a death wish, the cocky sons of bitches."
Luthias snatched the paper out of his hand, tearing it in his haste. He was shaking with rage now, all composure lost. The scrawl on the page left him all but feral.
Dog:
I took your girl. She's fine, for now.
Let's see how the bite measures up to the bark.
-Rion.
"Avery, what do you know of a Wolf named Rion?" Luthias asked.
"Little," Avery admitted. He continued quickly though, not foolish enough to mistake pointedness with calm. "Our scouts track the movement patterns of the Wolf packs. A couple years ago, two of the packs inexplicably merged. The scouts said they were being led by a red-haired Alpha who had beaten down the long-time leaders. I believe that was the name they called him by."
"Where is his pack?"
"Scotland," he said. "Possibly. Since Rion took over, the pack stopped moving in a predictable pattern. He appears to know how to avoid our scouts. We thought he was last in Scotland, but that's a long way to travel if he was just here."
"I want a report from all the scouts in the mainland. Prepare to handle affairs here while I travel."
"Do you really think it's wise to be leaving your post again over a woman?" Avery asked.
Luthias gave Avery a look that would have made a lesser man weep.
"Don't test me, boy."
Avery grimaced, but was silent. Luthias grabbed a claymore from the side of his chair, headed to the door. Kieran flinched as he passed, though the half-demon tried to pass it off as natural movement, passing a hand through his hair. Luthias had nothing in his mind but a pounding bloodlust—fury at Kieran for allowing this to happen, at Elizabeth for being foolish enough to be taken, and at himself for ever taking his eye off her. This Wolf had shattered his peace of mind, and for that, Luthias would make him pay.
Chapter 1: Between Worlds
The creaking of the floorboards is what eventually shook Elizabeth from her dreams. She opened her eyes to a dark world, where light seeped dimly through cracks above her, and the sound of the ocean lapped against the walls. She was on a ship. More concerning than this realization was the fact that she wasn't alone—looming over her was the bare-chested man she had glimpsed before losing consciousness, hair red as blood, shoulders broad and his hands rough and calloused, his manhood concealed lazily by a sort of fur loincloth. There was something beautiful about him, though. Despite her fear, the wild gleam to his emerald eyes entranced her, making it hard to look away.
"You're up," he said. His voice wasn't as deep as she thought it would be, though there was gravel to it.
"Where am I?" Elizabeth asked, still in too much shock to be angry.
"On a boat."
"Obviously, but—”
The sound of crates toppling over directed their attention to the other members of their party: both in fur garments, like the red-haired man, but these men were bald and far more scarred. Their smiles came freely, though. The scrawnier man climbed onto a sturdier pile of crates, while his buff counterpart sat on the ground, scratching at a gash on his leg.
"Don't mind us," he muttered. "Just trying to get comfortable."
"Can you introduce us to the girl?" asked the man on the crates.
"This is...ridiculous," Elizabeth said, finally sitting up—her back ached from being tossed around. She was finally beginning to get angry. "Whoever you are, my lord won't allow you to keep me."
"We plan on that," the man on the crates laughed.
"We know full well who your lord is," said her red-haired captor, even as he yawned. "He'll track you down eventually. That's the sport of it."
"Sport?" Elizabeth asked, horrified.
"Rion is the strongest wolf in the northern hemisphere," the sitting one declared, with a devilish smirk. "With all the Al
pha Wolves afraid of him, the only way to see how strong he is now is to take on the Canine Lord."
"So my life is a game to you?" she said, feeling sick. "You're just trying to hurt Luthias?"
The red-haired Wolf Demon, who must have been Rion, gave the most infuriating shrug.
"You want to fight a bear at her strongest, you take away one of her cubs. You want a Canine to fight you as an equal, you take his woman. It's nothing personal. Just instinct."
Elizabeth stared, mortified. He seemed impervious to her judgment, however. He gestured to the wolves in his company, deciding now was the time for introductions.
"Call them Bull," the sitting man nodded, "and Zak," the man on the crates waved.
"How can you be so casual?" Elizabeth said, frustration building. "You drugged me and took me from home!"
"You've only been there like what, a few months?" Zak asked.
"Yeah, and you're probably going back soon anyhow," Bull said, twisting his finger in his ear. "Might as well be civil."
Feeling helpless, she looked to Rion with half a hope that he was sympathetic, but he betrayed no such feelings. He leaned back against the panels, calm, as if attuned to the sound of the ocean all around him.
"We'll dock soon. I have no formal mate, so you'll remain by my side until Luthias comes for you," Rion said, relaxed enough to close his eyes. "It's the safest place you can be, in the wilds."
Elizabeth was dumbfounded. It was one thing to kidnap her, another to behave like it was just another detour on their vacation. To her disbelief, Bull and Zak also seemed to be lounging about, just getting comfortable until the ship dropped them off at God-knew-where. She held her head, doing her best to make sense of it all, but she was coming up blank.
Should she scream? No, they would probably kill her, she knew enough about demons to know that any one of them could probably kill her if she moved too suddenly. It was more frustrating to think that she was probably just like them—but with her blood "dormant," as Luthias and her tutors vaguely called it, she was as helpless as the average human. She had little choice but to lay back down, keeping a wary eye on Rion as she tried to figure out the best way to get out of this unscathed.
Nice piece of ass, isn't he?
That voice—Emilie's voice—came at her again. The headache returned, but it wasn't as pronounced as it had been. She closed her eyes tight, trying to block it out. Emilie's dead, she told herself. If I was her, it would be impossible to be hearing a voice that isn't mine...
Go on pretending I don't exist, the voice laughed. Doesn't mean you can't take a good look at the wolf.
Perhaps it was morbid curiosity that drove her to observe the demon, as the voice recommended. She noticed then how well shaped he was, up and down, forged by the forest into a burly hunk, with definition on his legs, arms, and abdomen that would be the envy of any Chippendales dancer. His hair was neither as long nor well cared for as Lord Luthias', but the stunning red locks were healthy and thick, even where they rest unevenly over his shoulders and chest. Stubble lined his strong jaw, shades darker than the hair on his head, though the color was echoed in the fine shadow down his torso, trailing down beneath his loincloth to what she assumed, proportionally, was an intriguing endowment.
Once she realized how far her eyes had wandered, her attention snapped away, shame setting in. This is a kidnapping, she reminded herself. I'm unhappy.
A nice Alpha just stole you away and gave you a place in his cave. More direct than Luthias, with a better ass. An upgrade, really.
She tensed, shutting her eyes tight. She would drown out Emilie's words with a nonsense song she hummed to herself. The wolves would sleep, but she couldn't. Not while her mind was broken.
You can't stay awake forever.
As long as she focused on her own humming, and the steady sloshing of the waves, she thought she could. Luthias will come, she told herself. Luthias will make this right.
Chapter 2: Thrill of the Hunt
They must have docked half a day later. Elizabeth pretended to be asleep so not to make a fuss, her first priority still keeping herself alive long enough to be found. Unfortunately, this led to her again being slung over Rion's shoulder like a burlap sack on their way out of the ship—being held in this position long enough, the blood rushed to her head and her unconsciousness was no longer an act. After this indignity, she was woken abruptly when she was dropped on the ground, ass hitting a pile of soft earth as she jerked conscious.
"We're here," Rion said.
Still blinking sleep out of her eyes, she was astonished by the beauty of the environment that stretched out around her. Old trees reached high into a grayish blue sky, crossing their boughs above like friends clasped in friendly embrace. Odd leaves fell here and there, joining the palette of autumn colors shed across the forest floor. Behind her, past rows upon rows of these trees, she could see rolling green hills that curved into the skyline. However, before her was a more surprising sight: the clearing was filled with naked and fur-garbed men and women, the sound of laughter and growling overpowering the sounds of the birds overhead.
Bull and Zak ran ahead of them into the clearing, yipping. Elizabeth could hardly form words.
"What is this place?" she asked.
Rion looked down at her. For a moment, she saw a glimpse of pride in his eyes.
"This is my pack," he said.
Elizabeth knew only a little about Wolf demons from the tutors Luthias had given her; they had spoken abstractly of packs and fellowships, and the "uncivilized" manner of the Canines' demon cousins. She had never quite imagined it like this. Though she knew they were animals in different forms, it seemed to her that this was a group of people gathered together in the wild, content to be barefoot and listen only to the word of this strange, red-haired man. He would give her no time to adjust, though. He entered the fray, picking up children when they rushed up to him, giving one-word grunts to rambunctious wolves that demanded news from the outside world. Elizabeth had to stumble after him, clumsy in an elaborate skirt, not wanting to be left behind.
Rion walked until he reached a stump in the center of the gathering. He jumped atop it, and commanded everyone's attention with a single cry.
"Wolves!"
They all faced him, no matter what they were doing. There was silence. Utterly lost, Elizabeth had followed him as far as the side of stump, and now was faced with the uncomfortable attention of every Wolf in the pack. She felt like melting into the ground. What was she doing here?
The Alpha gestured to her, speaking to the gathering.
"This is Luthias Cennasaí's woman," he said. "The Canine Lord will come for her soon. Likely he will face me head-on but if he is a coward, he will send others to target you first. Are you ready to test your power?"
Hoots and howls rocked the forest. They chanted Rion's name. The Alpha grinned, momentarily meeting Elizabeth's stupefied gaze.
"Our sport," he said. "My pack is the strongest. We didn't get that way by running from a fight."
He jumped off the stump. All at once the spell was broken, the people breaking back into their separate groups, though some still reveled in the adrenaline rush and came to clap Rion on the back. One came at him too eagerly—Rion responded by grappling and slamming him to the ground, a violent act that only he could pass off as casual. The Wolf rolled over with a groan, apologizing, though he was the one no doubt in agony. Rion walked right over him.
Elizabeth was speechless. She found herself just sitting on the stump, staring vacantly after Rion, who was integrating himself into the socialization of his pack. She had thought Luthias to be the most uncanny man, yet Rion now had him beat. Luthias was quiet and cold, with a bedroom manner that melted her heart—Rion, on the other hand, said little, but she couldn't call him quiet. He seemed to talk only when his presence didn't speak for him. He was bold. That was the word, she realized. He asserted his presence with nothing more than a look, his very essence posing the command: "accept me, or ge
t out of the way." Rion might have been her kidnapper, but she found it difficult not to respect him.
You know he would fuck you, if you asked.
A cold shudder ran down her back. She tried hard to shut down that voice again, but it only seemed to get louder.
Why give yourself to the first man to abduct you? Sample what's offered.
She closed her eyes tight, hating herself. Why was this happening? She had no reason to hate Luthias, who had given her everything, yet her subconscious seemed intent on sabotaging what they had.
Elizabeth rubbed her temples; slowly, the voice faded. When she opened her eyes, she was startled to find Zak looking down at her, smirking.
"Hey girl," he said. "How you feeling?"
"Um...fine."
"Don't look so sore," he laughed. "It's not like we did anything to you."
"Except chloroform, I assume?" Elizabeth said, holding her head.
"Oh, shoot, yeah," Zak said, and he laughed like that was good fun. "Boss had a crazy hard time getting that, but you're a lady, so we couldn't just do a rock to the head. That would be barbaric."
"Would it?"
Despite the surreal situation, she couldn't help but smile. They were friendly, she'd give them that. Her gaze shifted back in the direction Rion had gone, unable to help it. She was surprised to see him holding a young boy on his hip, who looked to be three, maybe four. He didn't just put him down, like he had the other children he had picked up. Rion even kissed this child's forehead—gentle.
"Who is that boy?" she asked, quiet.
"Oh...Connor," Zak answered. "He's a partling. His mom was halfling, so he's not all demon, but he's not human enough that he's stuck with wolf traits you can see. Partlings usually blend in as human more or less, whether they’ve got more demon or more human in them. Halflings have it roughest.”
