Didn’t like it when it was about Jed.
As we approached him across the cropped grass, Jed finally turned his head, then stood. He stretched luxuriously, as if he’d been napping, and shook himself.
Zar paused twenty feet away. I walked up to meet Jed as he turned to me.
He gave his fluffy tail a casual swish—a far more polite greeting than I’d ever had from Jed in skin—which reminded me how much more relaxed Jed seemed in fur. Just plain happier. He’d told me he hated being in skin, that he found himself weak and lacking in sensory perception, hated clothing, and couldn’t sleep when he was in that form either.
I was grateful Jed had seen the faie in fur, that he’d mentioned this to me, and that it meant they might present to him again. If he hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t have had an excuse to tell him to forget his lockdown.
“Nothing?” I whispered.
Jed gazed around the open hillside and distant fells. He yawned.
“Come on. We’re packing in. Did you hear us? We’re afraid there’s something … suspicious down around those rocks at the base of the hill, where the beck flows through. Maybe a quick sniff around?”
Zar and I climbed back over the stile while Jed jumped the wall, kicking off against the top and making it look effortless.
He padded just ahead of me, glancing around to make sure I was there, as we returned down the slope. No more handholding or kissing from Zar. He kept about two feet of space between us with his brother there.
As we reached the foot of the hill, Jed again waited, close. He’d been weird like that all evening. Staying with me, wagging his tail at me. Waiting and listening for my instructions in our kindred search.
I hadn’t even received a mumbled thank you from him in skin. Nothing but nods and shrugs and yes; he did think they might come around him so it was worth a try to quietly visit this wild space at night when they would feel safe. No more.
In fur, though, he’d relaxed and been—by Jed’s standards—solicitous all night.
At the boulders, Jed jumped the beck, not getting his paws wet, then sniffed about the rocks and out toward the cluster of trees beyond, not really a wood at all.
Here, he seemed interested. In fact, he spent so much time sniffing and casting about, almost invisible at the rocks, I finally called him back, uneasy again.
“Let’s go.” I waved Jed to us and took Zar’s hand—like it or not. I thought for a second he’d pull away. “So there was something here. You’ll have to tell us about it. But not now.”
Jed didn’t seem especially upset, although he looked over his shoulder a few times. Did the fur stand up down his back? It was hard to tell. It seemed he was more unsure than frightened, maybe wanting to go back for a second sniff. Or to try trailing something?
He didn’t argue the point, accompanying Zar and myself back toward the bed and breakfast like the faithful hound whose part he was playing—at least for tonight.
Chapter 3
On the walk back, Zar kept slowing; asking if we should try once more, maybe with the flute, let Jed spend longer out, and so on. When Zar slowed, Jed slowed, keeping an eye on me.
It took us twenty minutes to reach The Gables, in its quiet country setting. Perhaps the remoteness was why the place had had three rooms available without notice.
I still didn’t have the address of the manor where we were supposed to meet the mage, Gavin, for dinner and a translation, but I knew we were in the area and, while we waited on that, it was perfect faie habitat. Plus habitat for something else?
We approached the two-hundred-year-old stone house from behind, crossing a final field and able to see lights still on in two upstairs windows. A couple outside ones on as well. Everything else dark and silent while clouds still played with moonlight.
The beck ran all the way down here to our right, where there was another copse of trees that it twined through, then under an old stone bridge on the road fifty yards beyond the house. The location was so rural, in fact, the meditative chuckle of this flowing water was the only sound as we reached The Gables.
We had to use our key on the front door to enter. First, though, we paused at the gravel lot to the side where the five motorcycles and a few guest cars were parked.
On our way out in the dark a couple of hours ago, Jed had changed in that bit of a wood and Zar had stowed his clothes in the pannier on Jed’s bike so we could grab them on our return.
At the bikes, Jed hung back, head and tail drooping. Zar—scowling by light of the single decretive lamppost at the end of the parking area—unlocked the pannier and grabbed Jed’s things. He looked to me. I looked at Jed.
Jed looked at the gravel between his paws, hocks bent, almost cowering.
I bit my lip, then spoke softly. “I’d like to know what you found out about anyone having been watching us, Jed.”
He didn’t stir.
“But … if you think it can wait until morning…”
Jed glanced up.
Zar was frowning even more, shoulders stiff.
“If you want to sleep out, and stay safe and sensible, right around but out of sight, no roaming, I’m sure that would be okay.”
Jed watched me as I spoke and, halfway through, began to wag his tail, his ears pricking to me.
“Cass,” Zar started, “he can’t do that. Someone will see in the morning—”
“If he has his bag he can camp out. Change at first light and put his clothes on. Does that sound all right to you?” To the subject. “Can you be respectful and quiet, no sheep, no running off?” I didn’t think a vampire, even a young one, would go for a wolf in fur. Still… “Careful and get a nice sleep nearby? Right here in the trees?”
Jed was lashing his tail like a golden retriever by then, his paws shifting in place on the gravel. He looked like Jason expecting fish and chips. I’d never seen anything like it from Jed.
I couldn’t help smiling, even in the face of Zar’s resentment and the day we’d had.
“If it means that much to you… But you’ll need your things. Zar, could you get his rucksack? Is it in your room? I can pack this stuff up and take the bag out to the trees.”
“Are you sure he—?”
“It’s fine. He can’t sleep in skin. Why should we drag him inside to make him share a too small room with you and Isaac?”
Jed had lost interest in the proceedings and sniffed around the bikes and lot, relaxed again.
“Come with me,” Zar said.
Great. He wanted to lecture me about how dangerous or unreliable Jed was; or supposed to be taking punishment and not allowed liberty.
“If he stays out he may have another shot at a visit from kindred,” I said. “That’s also worth something.”
Zar dropped the clothes on the bike seat. “Come in. Just for a minute. The bag’s upstairs.”
I followed, unwillingly, as Zar fished The Gables key from his pocket.
Looking around to tell Jed to go on away from the house, and I’d be right back, I hesitated. He was sniffing along Jason’s bike at the end of the row, just making his way to the front tire. Something about his stance, the way he moved in close…
“Jed.”
He paused, glancing my way. His left hind foot was already lifted a couple inches off the gravel, suddenly frozen in place.
“Don’t pee on that,” I snapped, still keeping my voice hushed.
Jed cocked his head, as if he couldn’t understand what I’d said.
“Because it’s rude,” I elaborated. “That’s not yours. Leave it alone.”
He lowered his leg, looked at the bike, looked at me, then flattened his ears. He stalked away, as sulky as his brother.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Yes, you’re right, I’m not a wolf and I don’t get it and maybe it’s none of my business. I don’t mean to micromanage you. Just … a little civility, all right?”
He ignored me, vanishing into deep shadow of The Gables’ sprawling gardens.
“Back
in a minute.” I went on to the front door that Zar was holding for me.
Zar still looked just as upset about my telling Jed he could stay out as Jed had looked for my telling him he shouldn’t pee on Jason’s motorcycle.
Scorpios. Goddess.
I knew better than to blame my problems with people on astrology. But I also knew I had a bad track record with water signs, and moody Scorpios in particular. Zar and his brother didn’t have much in common. Also, wolves put just as much stock into moon signs as sun signs—Leo for Jed, Pisces for Zar. All the same, they had a bit more common ground than a tendency to dress in black.
“Zar, I’m sorry,” I whispered through the gently lit foyer—yet bright after being outside. “It’s not that I want to tamper with your laws and lifestyles. But I also don’t want him to suffer any more than I would for the rest of you. If he can stay out without any harm done, I don’t—”
Zar had gently shut the door so it would be quiet, then stuffed the key in his pocket as he crossed to me at the foot of the stairs. He didn’t answer but grabbed my face in both hands and pressed his mouth over mine.
His muscles were tight, still angry about Jed getting away with something—or the favors I was bestowing on Jed, or whatever it was. Zar’s touch was nothing like it had been all night—the endless, casual connection and intimacy as we’d gone about our business of requesting company from faie. Nothing like how he touched me the vast majority of the time, in fact. I’d only ever seen flickers of this Zar. The Zar who would use his weight against me after I’d told him to think of me as a wolf, not a fragile little worm. The Zar who had tried to break Isaac’s legs, and would occasionally lash out at one of the others when pushed—such as by Andrew’s teasing.
He shoved me into the end of the banister in a long, hard, breathless kiss that was more blind force than a real kiss.
I was just trying to twist away when he pulled instead: across the hall and into the long, unlit guest lounge with bookshelves, sofa, chairs, coffee table, maps, puzzles, and a huge candy bowl displaying a rainbow of candy—or “sweets.” Zar tugged me around the doorframe, beyond the foyer light. Here, he held on even tighter, mouth over mine, hands in my hair, holding my head in until the kiss became a sharp reminder of inflexibility of teeth and bone on lips and gums.
His trying to stall all the way back, get us a few minutes of privacy. And now, asking me to come in. He didn’t want to lecture me. Although I could guess by the feel of him there was plenty he wanted to say that had nothing to do with Jed. About me returning to the pack but staying with Kage and Jason, sharing meals with them; a date with Andrew; a night with Isaac. Yet I’d been around Zar only in a working capacity. A job to do, a crime to solve: how I’d told myself I’d be with all of them. But I hadn’t been.
That had been a different Moon. I didn’t live there anymore. Nor did I live on August 24th—date of my plane ticket home.
I lived here with Zar. In this Moon, this moment. Which, never the less, meant a certain awareness of difficulties.
He still hadn’t said a word by the time we were in that gloomy sitting room and he was trying to get into my pants, opening my jeans while I grabbed his wrist.
“Zar, no, we’re—” I struggled, twisting my face away from his, and his hand away from me. “—in the middle of something. I have to go back to Jed with his stuff.”
“He can wait a minute.” Still shoving me back. “I’ve missed you, Cass—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” I gasped. “I’m talking about his sense of smell. You can’t have forgotten the last time we were trapped in this sort of—”
I knocked into an armchair and fell as Zar pushed me. I grabbed him but he was catching me anyway. While still off-balance—in so many ways—he pulled me around to the old, wood-framed sofa on the inside wall, dark, away from the foyer.
I was looking upward as Zar pushed me, just catching sight of the book tower: full of DVDs that guests could take up to their rooms. On top perched a framed photo of the old house beside a box of tissues. More vivid flashbacks to the castle, that night with Zar. And the aftermath: afraid his brother would attack him if we got too near Jed and Jed smelled what we’d been up to.
His teeth were on my throat again, this time painful.
“We have to get him his stuff.” I panted as I struggled to push Zar’s face away. “What would we do? Get Isaac? Send him out to tell Jed I was busy? Wait, Zar—not now. Let me take his—”
“It’s been ‘not now’ ever since you’ve been back. Not with me anyway.”
“I’m not trying to avoid you. The past few days have been—”
His mouth on mine again, tongue between my teeth. He was fumbling open his own black jeans, still clawing at my clothes, his hands seeming to be everywhere, all over me—hair, breasts, butt, pushing up my shirt or yanking down my tight jeans.
“Wait until I’m back—” I fought for breath to speak even in a gasp.
“So you can be with him first?”
“Zar.” Far more sharply. “Our relationship isn’t like that. I just need to take him his things.”
“Stay with me tonight, Cass. I need you. I need to be part of you.” His hand was down my pants faster than they came down, into my underwear.
Part of you. It wasn’t some original idea, yet I’d never had anyone reference intercourse like that to me. It left me shocked for how much I wanted the same thing. But not right this moment. Why did everything have to be so complex between them?
Everyone in my pack knew I was more involved with others than they would have liked. Although I also had the impression that a female taking time to check out all the males that caught her eye was perfectly normal for them. Some might be testy about it, jealous about it, but, barring that one vicious fight in Germany, they seemed content with growls—not bloodshed. Yet this between Jed and Zar… I wasn’t so sure. The last thing I wanted with Jed right now was a fight when I was trusting him to be in fur against the better judgement of everyone around us.
Holding me into the sofa with the weight of his body and his mouth on mine, Zar felt below my underwear with one hand, freeing himself from his own briefs with the other.
The irksome thing about Zar was his being perfectly sensible enough to know this could be a problem. He was afraid of his brother—especially in fur. That didn’t weigh for the moment. But once the moment passed? Then Zar wouldn’t set foot outside again for the night. Or let me out.
He pressed between my legs, leaning in, and ran a finger inside me, as if to find his way in the dark, feeling ahead. So eager he was trembling, panting, a sound coming from his throat rather like a whine. He buried his nose in my hair, reaching into me, part of me, saying my name as if already close. I rocked my hips to meet him, almost whining myself, blood beating in my ears.
Say no or consequences. Hell to pay. Trouble ahead. Just say no.
So why couldn’t I?
An addiction: why sex with someone you loved, already intimate with, became so hard to resist. I didn’t want to say no. I wanted him. It should have been that simple.
I’d taken the coward’s way out with Isaac last night. Now another hold up. Another hurdle. Life’s harsh realities staring down what we both wanted. We had to take Jed’s bag out. No dragging someone else out of bed to send them. No removing a window screen and chucking it out and hoping for the best. I needed to take the bag and leave it somewhere safe for the night for him.
So was there a coward’s way out this time?
“Zar—” I grabbed his face. “You’ve got to get the bag and let me take it out first. I’ll be right back. You know—” My own words were cut off in a stifled moan.
A condom might have helped. I didn’t have one. I was certain no one in my pack did either. Still, it might be the right approach. If we could be a bit less … part of each other… Leaving less for curious wolves to sniff out about our activities?
Kissing and biting, Zar had his free hand on my bra, painfull
y massaging my breast, still pinning me awkwardly into the sofa. It wouldn’t take much to make him premature. Then, though, there was still a matter of mess…
I closed my fingers around his erection at the same time I again spotted the box of tissues overhead on the book tower.
Zar withdrew his hand, trying to trade, pulling himself up against me as he thrust between my legs. I worked to be able to use both hands, blocking him.
A hint of force, magic energy, mental pressure, a push: the tissue box fell onto the sofa, hitting Zar’s shoulder and making him jump.
“Use your imagination on this one,” I panted.
“It’s all right, Cass. It doesn’t—”
“It does matter. I’m going back outside.” Pause with his mouth covering mine. “This is bad enough,” I gasped, “but he already knows we’ve been … close all night.”
“Cass—” He was trying to move my hands.
And why not, really? It wasn’t as if Jed would take a bite out of me. As long as Zar didn’t go back out…
Yet … everything had been so pleasant tonight. Zar and Jed and I getting along, working together and independently. No sour notes—or violence.
We were not going to screw that up now. A tiny bit of self-control and the night could remain peaceful for once.
To distract us both I seized Zar’s balls and toyed with them while he hissed out a breath of either pleasure or pain. My hands were slick with his pre-cum and I prayed no more of me was—like my jeans.
Tense moments trying to hold onto him, foil him, also gathering a fistful of the tissues. Turned out, though, I’d been right: Zar was so aroused, so close, I didn’t need to do much to convince him to take the easy way out.
Teeth tight on the side of my neck, he thrust into my hands, coming in the wad of tissues while I also imagined him inside me. It was no good. While his climax was fading mine was only hoping to get off the ground. Although it did not seem to cross Zar’s mind to take any action to benefit others just then, perhaps that was for the best. Hormones and aromas? Still, it didn’t feel best.
I couldn’t think about it. Just go. Do what I’d said I would.
Moonlight Betrayal: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (The Witch and the Wolf Pack Book 5) Page 2
