by Lora Leigh
Then, the wild, inner core of her jerked free of her control, surged inside her. Her hips bucked, one hand locked in his hair, bearing down, taking him deeper, deeper . . .
Ah fuck. He was buried full length inside her, throbbing, her grip on his cock so tight several ejaculations of the hormone filled her, one after the other. He released her breast and his back hit the bed, hips arching as he forced his eyes to stay open, just to watch her.
Her cries washed over him. Straightening, she tipped her head back and began to move, rocking, lifting and falling as her hair caressed his thighs, licked over his balls. His fantasy come to life, his wild little halfling riding him as those sensual curls teased his flesh with the lightest touch.
It was the most erotic experience, the most sensual pleasure, he’d ever known in his life, and he wanted nothing more than to hold her there forever. Just let the world recede and do nothing but spend his life buried in the heat and acceptance this one woman wrapped him in.
But the world wouldn’t recede, and as her flesh milked and stroked over his cock, the pleasure tightened, rose, began straining at his senses with the need to come. His teeth clenched, hips arched to her, a growl rumbling in his chest.
Then he felt her stiffen, felt her losing her breath. Gripping her hips, he gave her what she needed, moving beneath her, thrusting hard and deep inside her as he felt her unraveling. Her pussy locked around his shuttling cock, so fucking tight, rippling, sucking at his erection as her orgasm exploded through her.
The intensity of her release, the pleasure whipping through him, sent his own senses exploding, his seed shooting inside her as he felt his cock swell halfway up the shaft, locking him inside as his release gained momentum and he swore took the top of his head off.
Son of a bitch . . .
It was like fucking dying in ecstasy. He heard her cries echoing around him, felt her collapse against him, and all he could do was hold her to him as his hips jerked between her thighs, each ejaculation milking him dry.
When it was over, he had to fight to breathe. His breaths were sawing from his chest, his teeth locked in her shoulder, and hers locked at his chest.
He could feel her canines piercing his flesh, her tongue spilling the heat of her mating hormone to the small wounds, marking him as no other woman ever could.
She was marking him.
The primal satisfaction that raced through him was nearly as heady as the physical release. She was his. Completely, irrevocably. God help the man or Breed who thought he’d steal her from his arms.
* * *
• • •
The room was still dark when Cassie found herself suddenly awake. She lay against Dog’s side, his arm beneath her head and his body curved over her, holding her to him. Her hand laying at his heart, his covering it. And he was sleeping. Funny, but in the time they’d spent together, she’d only known him to nap.
Frowning, she blinked, lifted her gaze, then froze.
At first, she thought she had to be dreaming. In all the years she’d watched spirits walk around her, she’d never had an occasion to actually have a male visit her. And he was definitely a spirit. Tall, broad, so obviously Dog’s father given the fact that they shared the same features, the same coloring.
The spirit stood, military straight, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression curiously gentle despite the savage cast of his features. He was dressed in military fatigues, the shirt stained with blood. His blood if the torn cloth at the chest was any indication.
He laughed when he was boy, the spirit said softly, the voice filled with regret. He had a coyote pup that would come out of its mother’s den and play with him. His laughter always reminded me of his mother.
Pain flickered across those hard features, and though he spoke to her, he never took his gaze from Dog.
I lost her, in childbirth. He glanced at her, but only for a second. She was too weak, from the damage to her body days before, when they’d found us again, to survive it. As she held our baby, she slipped from me.
Cassie didn’t speak; she didn’t think he expected her to speak.
He was ten when they found me. I’d left him in the mountains while I went for supplies. He looked at his chest and sighed before looking at Dog once again. I’d tried to train him to survive in case I didn’t return at some point, but ten is so very young for a child to be left alone. Even one trained to survive.
Ten was far too young, she agreed silently.
I swore to his mother I would always watch over him, so she could go peacefully to the other side. That I wouldn’t desert him until his mate found him, as mine found me. A thread of amusement touched his whispery voice. He’s a stubborn boy. Getting him to that island and getting him into place so I could draw you to the balcony that day took considerable effort, you know?
It was his presence she had sensed all those years ago, she realized. Hidden from sight but pushing her all the same. He was the reason she had agreed to those deals over the years, trusting Dog when logic told her it was insane. Because he was there, assuring her that Dog could be trusted.
You knew. I didn’t have to tell you. Though sometimes, I admit, I may have whispered assurances to the creature inside you. Your animal listens far better than you when it comes to my boy. He tilted his head as Dog shifted in his sleep, his hold tightening around her.
He survived, he whispered, once again somber. A boy, no more than ten. Alone. And until you, he never forgot he was alone. With you, he found hope.
And he’d given her hope. But her heart ached for the spirit who stood watching over his grown son even as he must have watched over him as a boy.
You should accept your animal, girl. It’s not truly Wolf, not truly Coyote, but a being as unique as your creation. It’s one creature, instinctive, accepting as no other could ever be. To survive, you must accept it as it accepted you, he warned her, taking his eyes from Dog only long enough to level a demanding look her way.
I named him Cainis, I called him Cain, the spirit told her, turning back to his son. I didn’t know how to be a father, but as I held my son and watched my mate die, I knew that small being was all that mattered. And as I died, unable to reach him, I couldn’t leave him. I’d sworn.
She felt a tear slip down her cheek, hurting for this Breed and for his loss, as well as Dog’s.
Now his mate has found him, and mine’s calling to me, he told her, his expression gentling as Dog’s hand gripped hers, holding it to his heart.
The spirit turned his gaze to her, his expression hardening then. Warn him, Cassie. Before you leave this place, warn him. His enemy knows him for who he is, for what he is now. The princess consorts with the enemy, it’s whispered, and Cain’s image has reached him . . . The voice trailed off, and fury flashed in eyes nearly black as the image wavered.
She could see him talking, his lips moving, his gaze fierce as he faded from sight, leaving only his regret and his fear for his son behind.
“Cassie?” Dog whispered her name, his voice scratchy, his hand stroking her arm as she realized she’d jerked upright, staring at the image as it faded, trying to read lips that she couldn’t see clearly to begin with. “What do you see, baby?”
Her head jerked around, staring down at him, and she realized she was shaking, trembling in reaction.
“Cainis, he called you Cain,” she whispered, her voice strangled as she fought to breathe. “It’s said the princess consorts with the enemy, and your image has reached him. He knows. He knows who and what you are . . .”
Fear tightened in her chest, a cold sweat breaking out across her flesh as Dog jerked upright and pulled the quilt around her before dragging her to the warmth of his chest.
She was so cold. Brutally cold. Ice flowed through her veins and she swore she could feel death breathing over her shoulder.
“It’s okay. Shhh. It’s okay, Cassie.”
It took long minutes to calm her breathing, to warm her, to convince her to just lie against him. It took even longer for her to drift back into a restless sleep. And all he could do was stare into the dark, the hairs at the back of his neck stiff with warning.
Cainis, though the spelling was different, meant the same thing. Dog. But his father had called him Cain. He barely remembered the father who’d raised him, who’d trained him to survive in a harsh wilderness. But he’d always remembered the warnings. If he was ever caught, his name was Cainis. He was created in Red Lab Three, but it was destroyed the year of his creation and he was rescued by a nurse who had since died. Always remember his enemy was Major. His mother was an angel. The warnings were always clear, repeated to him daily, and he’d repeated them back.
Until the day the man he called father hadn’t returned to the wilderness.
Cain. His father had called him Cain, but he was to never, ever allow the shortened version of his name to be known. If he was ever asked his name, he was Cainis. He was Dog. He was to beware of Major, and his mother was an angel.
He still carried the picture of his mother that his father had kept in the cabin. Blond, eyes a pretty blue, she’d stood tall, close to five-seven, and she’d stared up at her human mate dressed in military fatigues and glaring at the camera as though it were the enemy.
That picture was tucked in his pack, hidden in a slit he’d cut in the leather.
And the only way she could have known any of this was if the ghost of one of his parents had come to her.
It would have been his father, he decided, remembering the somber, taciturn man who had raised him. He hadn’t been one to give hugs; he’d avoided them. But he’d often found ways for Dog to have a reason to laugh. At some point, Dog had realized his childish laughter eased the pain he sensed coming from his father.
Fuck.
It was said the princess consorted with the enemy and his image had reached him. Because of him, his parents were dead. Someone he knew only as Major. And this faceless, unknown threat now knew who and what he was. He was a hybrid, born of a Breed mother, a human father. And now someone knew. And they would know he’d mated another hybrid.
Goddamn.
•CHAPTER 11•
Cassie watched Dog warily the next day. As she worked on the tablet he’d provided her, using a back door in the Bureau’s files to get into the Articles of Mating Law, she was always aware of him.
Even her animal instincts were wary, rising inside her, conscious of every move, every word he said as he, Mutt and Mongrel kept up on the search Rhyzan was conducting for them.
The two Coyotes he so often fought with sensed something within him too. They would look between her and Dog, their expressions sometimes thoughtful, sometimes confused.
She put up with it until evening fell and she finished downloading the files she needed and double-checking to see if there was anything else she had missed.
She’d wanted to sneak into her sister’s file, check on Kenzi’s debriefing and see what information she had, how she felt about the family she hadn’t known existed, but Cassie didn’t dare slip into that particular database. If Jonas caught her in the Breed Law database, he’d recognize the back door she’d used and ignore it. Rhyzan wouldn’t do the same with his personal files.
Finishing up her work, she shut the tablet down, refreshed her coffee and finished the stew she’d started earlier for dinner. Once she washed the dishes, she walked to the wide doorway separating the living area and watched the three Breeds silently for long moments as they went over maps and discussed the progress of the escape Dog’s people had made.
She remained silent, simply watching her mate. His expression was closed, and she could feel the tension emanating from him, growing tighter the longer she stood watching him.
“There’s nothing else we can do, for now,” he announced, rising from the chair and closing his own tablet as Mutt and Mongrel glanced at him.
They rose slowly to their feet, their gazes sliding her way, those same thoughtful, considering looks on their faces.
“We’ll just, uhh, go check things outside.” Mongrel cleared his throat as Mutt gave an energetic nod.
The two hurried to the door leading to the garage and closed it quickly behind them.
“Everyone made it out okay?” she asked, tucking her hands into the pockets of the loose casual pants she wore and propping one sock-covered foot atop the other as she leaned against the door frame.
“We’re a few hours behind in terms of information.” He pushed his fingers through his hair in irritation before he paced past her and went to the coffeepot. “There have been several lags in reports, though, so everything should be fine.”
But he was worried. The disconnect from the real-time reports made him edgier than he was to begin with.
Turning, she watched as he filled his coffee cup, his back to her.
“Are we going to keep ignoring it?” she asked him, crossing her arms over her breasts and holding back the knowledge that Dog was now just as wary of her as everyone else was.
As a child, she hadn’t always been as careful as she should have been in regards to the Breeds who were followed by spirits or by the images of their own inner demons. That had begun the dislike that many of the Wolf Breeds felt for her. Generally, though, Coyote Breeds had always thought it was “kinda cool,” as one had expressed. It was nice to know he wasn’t alone.
“Now’s not the time to discuss it.” He kept his back to her and sipped at his coffee. “Later.”
“Okay.” She breathed in slowly. “Would you at least tell me who Major is?”
He shook his head. “Fuck if I know, and I’ve been trying to figure it out since I was ten. I guess we’ll know soon enough, won’t we?”
“If we could go over anything you remembered together, maybe we could figure it out—”
“I said not now, goddammit,” he snapped, his voice low, filled with fury. “Just not now, Cassie.”
Her lips parted, anger surging through her, to slap back at him for the sharp tone of voice.
“Well, love, didn’t you go and pick a surly bastard to mate?” The South African accent was tinged with amusement and affection as Dane Vanderale stepped into the room behind them.
Cassie swung around, facing the Breed who most of the world believed was no more than a Breed benefactor and philanthropist. They had no idea about the Breed crouched and ready to spring forward inside him.
Hybrids were so far a mystery to the scientists. Their genetics rarely came forward until their teens, and it seemed the animal and human senses they possessed were far more integrated than those of Breeds created by scientists.
Tossing Dog a small pack he carried as Dog stepped past her, Dane strode to the bar, poured himself a drink, then turned back to them. She caught the faint scent that reached her from the box, which indicated it held the slim cigars he provided certain Breeds.
Dane himself was a master of control, but along with the scent of the cigars was one of pure, unmatched fury barely contained.
Dressed in gray silk slacks and a white long-sleeved shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled back to his elbows, he looked less like a hybrid Breed and more like the businessman he portrayed himself to be. That is, if one overlooked the shaggy hair the color of desert sand and didn’t detect the animal lurking behind those emerald green eyes. Eyes he usually toned down with colored contacts.
Cassie narrowed her gaze on the hybrid, seeing far more than the mockery, easygoing charm and latent danger that she always picked up. For the first time since she’d known him, Dane was almost close to losing control of that inner animal he harbored.
“The parents, mine that is, are joining Callan and Jonas in Window Rock, by the way.” He lifted his glass in a silent toast to Cassie. “Dash and Callan have both called the Leo, requesting he and Mother assist you in this. It appears your father may have attempted to kill Rhyzan when he filed that petition after your disappearance.” He lifted the drink to his lips. “Don’t bloody well fuckin’ blame him.”
Dane tossed back the drink, then slapped the glass to the bar and refilled it.
“Is Dad okay?” Cassie breathed out wearily, watching the hybrid as he sipped at his drink now. She was surprised. She was under the impression her father would approve of Rhyzan’s actions.
“In excellent condition.” His grin was hard. “I believe they may have had to pull him off Rhyzan, though. I heard he tried to beat him to death. Near succeeded too. Bastard’s nose is slightly out of line, and I hear there may be a canine he’s in danger of losing due to the blows your father got in.”
This was a mess.
“Why did Dad and Callan ask Leo for help?” Cassie shook her head.
“Mother’s research in Mating Heat,” Dane pointed out. “And it appears Rhyzan is being rather an ass in regard to rescinding the Petition for Reconsideration, despite your father’s insistence. Father, along with Seth Lawrence, who’s arrived with his mate, by the way, is attempting to get to the bottom of Rhyzan’s stubbornness. Mother’s going to run the tests herself. As she stated, in all her decades of work with Mating Heat, she’s never seen a Breed acquire two mates.”
Two mates.
Rhyzan wasn’t her mate and she knew it, but their tests had shown a compatibility . . .
“Oh God,” she whispered, turning back to Dane in shock. “Kenzi. If he’s Kenzi’s mate, then it would make sense that I showed a compatibility but no true mating.”
Dog’s irritated growl had her wanting to roll her eyes.
Dane inclined his head, unsurprised. “That was Mother’s thought as well. But Rhyzan should be aware of that. He’s been with Kenzi quite a bit, debriefing her. Which begs the question, why is he holding firm in wanting you and your mate separated before the mating mutation completes within you and Dog?”
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