Huntress Claimed

by Eva Brandt

  “I’ll find peace when I go back to my family and when I tear you apart for everything you’ve done.”

  “An ambitious goal, but not one you’ll accomplish,” Roman replied. “Because, you see, if my princess were to give you her body now, the bond she has with those werewolves of hers would completely shatter their minds. And she’s not going to do that. Not ever.”

  The words weren’t really intended for Imogen, of course. They were directed at my mate, and did exactly what they were supposed to. My bride closed her eyes and turned away from the huntress. “He’s right. I’m not lying. I am sorry. But my mates are more important than my regret. If I ever find a way to help you, I will, but I won’t endanger them more than I already have.”

  “And what makes you think that creature is telling you the truth?” Imogen asked, seeing her final chance slip between her fingers.

  “I could be lying, it’s true,” Roman answered. “But the thing about lies is that in the long run, they’re dangerous. The truth always comes to light. I have no interest in lying to the woman I want to claim as my eternal soulmate, because that would only make her turn away from me.”

  “So… Another soulmate, huh?” Imogen arched a brow at my bride. “One of these days, it’ll all blow up in your face, whore. One of them will snap and kill you. And when that happens, I will have my revenge.”

  “That’s enough,” I growled, interrupting the conversation. “My love, I think we’re done here.”

  I wrapped my arms around her, blocking her view of Imogen. She buried her face in my chest and nodded. “We’re done.”

  Roman didn’t need to be told twice. His dark powers surged around us, and Imogen screamed as she was forced to return to her prison. It only took a couple of seconds, and then, everything was back to normal, and we were all in the ritual room. “Are you all right?” he asked her when he was done.

  “I don’t know,” she answered. “I don’t think I’ll ever be all right again. But does it really matter? Like Daimon said, what I feel and think is irrelevant.”

  I hadn’t meant it that way, but I didn’t refute her. She wouldn’t believe me, even if I did try. “Then, it’s time for us to help you with the real reason you’re here, right? We have to suppress your bond with the werewolves and make sure your power doesn’t get them killed. But first, my bride, I believe it’s time for you to pick a name. Now that you’re not Imogen, you have to decide who and what you want to be.”

  It was a big request to make, and as I had hoped, it distracted her from the knowledge of the imminent and unavoidably traumatic ritual. For the longest time, she said nothing, musing over what I’d just asked her. “Ressa,” she decided at last. “Imogen Julius was a huntress. I am the remnants of what she could have been. Her ending. Ressa.”

  Ressa. I liked it. It suited her. We might never know where her soul had come from and who she had been before, but she was Ressa now, and she was ours.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ressa

  Choosing a new name felt strange. In some ways, it helped me, because the last thing I wanted was to claim ownership over another piece of the huntress’s identity. But on the other hand, my werewolves had loved me when I’d been Imogen. It hurt to give that up, to throw it aside, to bury it like it meant nothing.

  But it needed to be done. If I wasn’t brave enough to take this simple step, I would never accept what had to come after.

  Daimon had said he could suppress my bond with my mates. The idea made my skin crawl. My werewolves were so precious to me, and no matter what Roman had said, I had no reason to trust him and Daimon. And I couldn’t rely on just their word, on promises that could easily be faked.

  “Just so you know… If you try to turn on me, I’ll make sure you pay. I’ll take a knife to my own heart if you deceive me.”

  “Would you really?” Roman asked, narrowing his eyes. “Even if they were to feel your death and be shattered in return?”

  Damn him. Damn him all to hell. Why did he have to make things even more difficult? Didn’t I have enough on my plate with Daimon? Why did I have to worry about Roman too?

  I tasted dread and guilt in my mouth. I didn’t know what to do. Had I made a mistake in coming here? Should I have stayed with the pack? Maybe if I hadn’t panicked, if I hadn’t taken Daimon’s hand, Mother Dora would have been able to find another way to help us. At the very least, she wouldn’t have been as interested in using me as these two.

  Instinctively, I reached out to my bond with my lovers. It was still there, but I’d been struggling to ignore it for the past fifteen minutes or so. After that first surge in panic, Ulysses had been quiet. He must have decided that battering my mind wouldn’t miraculously convince me to come back, and I loved him a little more for that.

  The moment I opened my mind to his, he reached back. “Genny, are you—?”

  “Please don’t call me that,” I cut him off. “I don’t really know what’s happening and what to do, but at this point, I think it’s pretty safe to say I’m not Imogen Julius.”

  Ulysses’s guilt and fear flooded our connection, but he didn’t let that stop him. “That might be true, but it doesn’t mean you have to cut us off. We can still make this work. Together.”

  “Can we?” I asked him. “Can we, really? Tell me the truth, Ulysses. Please. I know I can trust you, even if I don’t trust anyone else. Given everything we know now… If this didn’t involve you personally, if it was someone else in this position, what advice would you give them? What is the right thing to do?”

  He hesitated and I knew what his answer would be even before he said it. “I’d probably encourage this hypothetical person to try to suppress the bond. There are ways. But it’s not really something werewolves do, so I don’t know what it would involve.”

  “So in other words, Daimon and Roman are right.”

  “I think so, yes,” he replied. It hurt him to say that, but he had to do it. As much as he treasured our bond, he understood where it was going. He couldn’t allow it anymore than I could.

  As I spoke to Ulysses, Daimon and Roman just stood there, watching me. “I take it you’re communicating with your werewolves,” Daimon guessed. “The Omega half-breed. Right?”

  I nodded, not bothering to hide the truth. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “Not in the slightest,” he answered. “I think that now that he knows the truth, he’ll make the right call. After all, if your bond with your lovers kills them, you’d never survive it. You’d just wither away and die, and no one wants that.”

  “No,” Ulysses replied, even if Daimon couldn’t hear him. “No one wants that. But don’t be scared, love. You’re still our mate. I believe in that and I believe in you. If that’s true, there has to be a way for us to be together. And no matter what happens, I’ll find it.”

  At that moment, I hated myself more than ever before. Based on the way Roman and Daimon were looking at me, I knew this ritual wouldn’t be free. I was perfectly aware of what they would ask. I’d have to betray my werewolf mates all over again, and this time, I wouldn’t have the excuse of it being in my own head.

  “You don’t need an excuse,” Ulysses told me, “because you aren’t doing anything wrong. You’ve been forced into a corner. We all have. I… I’m so sorry about this, lovely. If I’d been a better mate, if I’d seen this, you wouldn’t have been in this position in the first place. No matter what happens, please remember that we’re always with you. And we’ll never blame you.”

  Roman gripped my chin and stared straight into my eyes. The crimson of his gaze looked even more startling from up close. It surprised me so much that when I felt his mind brush over mine, I didn’t pull away. “Would you look at that, Ressa?” he asked. “The Omega is giving you permission to sleep with us. Sweet of him, wouldn’t you say? Or is it?”

  He raked his fangs over my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “Make no mistake, little one. Your body is yours. Even if Daimon and I claim you, you
have the right to decide to do whatever you want with it.”

  Except that wasn’t true, was it? This body wasn’t mine. It belonged to Imogen Julius. And when I’d agreed to be my werewolves’ mate, when we’d gone through that beautiful claiming process, I’d given myself to them, body and soul. “I wanted to be theirs. But that doesn’t count, does it?”

  “Not if you want them to live and be sane,” Roman pointed out. “This is your choice, Ressa. Sure, you can wait and see. You can disregard our efforts. Daimon and I won’t force you to stay here if that’s not what you want. But whatever choice you make, be advised that there’s always a price to pay.”

  The idea that I had a choice was laughable. In truth, I’d been Daimon’s captive from the moment he’d dragged me out from wherever the hell I’d been. Roman knew that very well. This was just another game, just like the one Daimon had been playing with me from the beginning.

  But maybe that was the whole point. I had to play along, just until Ulysses could find a different solution. This was my mistake and my responsibility too. I’d been aware something was wrong with me, but I’d tried to ignore it, because it had been easier. This was the result.

  “So tell me then,” I murmured. “Tell me what your help will cost me.”

  “I think we already have, Ressa,” Daimon replied. “In exchange for us helping you to keep your wolves alive, you will become our mate. You will be our bride, just like you were meant to be. And you will forget about those shifters who were never a good match for you. How does that sound?”

  It sounded impossible. I would never be able to go through with it, not completely. “I will be your mate,” I told them, “but I can’t forget them. Don’t ask that of me.”

  Daimon shared another look with Roman. I was getting pretty tired of the silent communication thing they had going on, especially since I knew very well what they’d say.

  “All right, princess,” Roman finally told me. “Far be it from us to refuse this compromise. It will be as you wish it—at least, in this case.”

  He didn’t have to point out that, in every other way, they would make the decisions. I was well aware of that, and I’d known it even before I’d taken Daimon’s hand and agreed to come here.

  And so, when Roman smiled at me again, I went willingly into his arms. And when he pressed his lips to mine, I didn’t push him away.

  This was my fate now, and I would make the best of it.

  * * *

  Roman

  My soulmate was everything I’d wanted and more. From the moment we’d fought, I’d known she would be powerful, but now that I had her in my arms again, I could fully appreciate it. I tasted the addicting flavor of her magic on my lips, and I knew I’d never be able to let her go.

  She didn’t realize the full extent of the influence she had on me and Daimon, but that was fine. It was better this way. She wasn’t prepared to accept our relationship, not that I’d expected her to be. It’d take time, but time was something Daimon and I had aplenty.

  She probably believed that we’d force ourselves on her right this instant, and I had to admit, the thought did appeal. But if I did that, if I took her body now, it would jeopardize our long-term relationship. She would give herself to me, but only because she wanted to save her soulmates. That was an unacceptable option. As long as she was here, Daimon and I could make her forget about them, but not if she saw us as her enemies.

  I allowed myself one single kiss from her sweet mouth. In a moment of weakness, I sliced her lower lip with my fangs. As her blood invaded my mouth, I almost forgot all about my scruples and determination to take things slow with her. But Daimon was there, and his magic poked me, reminding me of our deal and our agreement.

  “She doesn’t know you,” he had told me before he’d brought her here. “You’ve only seen her once, in a combat situation. You have to be prepared for rejection.”

  “Oh, I’m prepared,” I’d replied. “Are you?”

  “Don’t worry about me. She’s been rejecting me ever since those blasted werewolves stole her. As long as we’re on the right path, I’ll be fine.”

  I agreed with him, so I pulled away and broke the kiss between us. “No matter how much I’d love to bury myself inside you, little one,” I whispered, “we need to deal with your bond first.”

  She nodded, and I suppressed a smirk as I noticed the mild flush in her face. She might protest and claim she didn’t want this, but that was a lie. The attraction was there. It was far more powerful than anything the werewolves had given her, and I would prove it. I might have decided to not fuck her today, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t use her body at all.

  “Now close your eyes and don’t move. This will all be over before you know it. I promise it won’t hurt.”

  She obeyed, although her heart was racing in her chest. Her connection with the shifters was important to her and she didn’t want to lose it. A small part of me hated the fact that I was putting her through this pain, but at the end of the day, it was for the best. Shape-shifters in general and werewolves in particular were betrayers of the worst kind. It was because of them that the secret of our world had come out. Not only that, but they’d also dared to side with the humans in the conflicts that had started since. But maybe it made sense, because they were mortal, while demons and vampires were not. And that was exactly why Ressa was a poor match for the werewolves. Even if Daimon and I hadn’t taken her from the pack, she would have still lost those men to the wicked hand of time.

  Then again, had Ressa not left her pack, Imogen Julius might have become a bigger issue than she already was. We could protect her from the shade of the huntress, but the werewolves were useless.

  Her affection toward them was an obstacle in our path, though, and the bond needed to be suppressed before she agreed to do anything more. And so, today, we’d make sure the werewolves could no longer interfere in her life.

  “For the purpose of the ritual, we all have to be naked,” Daimon said, just as eager for this as I was. “We won’t touch you beyond what is absolutely necessary. All right?”

  “What does ‘necessary’ mean to you?”

  I was happy to hear her questioning us, even if she acknowledged that we’d won this battle. “It’ll just be skin to skin contact,” I explained. “I’m also going to bite you. But don’t worry. It won’t involve a transformation or anything like that.”

  The tension in her shoulders vanished, and I congratulated myself for our approach. She had no idea what I was planning, no idea what a vampire bite could really do. If Daimon was to be believed, Vladimir had bitten her before—or, at least, had bitten the huntress. But for my brother, it hadn’t been sexual. If I was right, he must have known Imogen Julius would be the perfect vessel for my mate, and he would have made sure to keep the whole thing as clinical as possible. But feeding could be very erotic for vampires, and it was time for my lovely Ressa to learn that. It wasn’t just about transformation. It could be just about the sex, the intimate connection only blood could create between two people.

  With the same claws I’d used to slice into her palm, I shredded her clothes. Daimon helped me, and within less than a minute, she was completely naked and exposed to us. The mere sight of her made me feel like I was an out of control fledgling on the verge of a feral bloodlust. I wanted to suck and bite her full breasts, to bury my face between her legs and feed on her juices, to devour everything she was and would ever be. Daimon wasn’t doing much better. His irises were burning with demonic fire, and I suspected he was beginning to regret our vow. He lowered his hands over her shoulders as if he wanted to touch her, but he didn’t go all the way. Instead, he took a deep breath, stared at the ceiling, and forced himself to calm down. Maybe this would be harder than we’d both expected.

  Daimon had told me that he and Ressa had fucked, but only in her mindscape. He hadn’t gone into detail, but he’d clearly enjoyed the experience very much. And yet, we couldn’t reenact it, not yet. It would be torture
.

  Patience, Roman, I told myself. Be patient. The prize waiting for you will be even sweeter if you take your time. She’ll come to you willingly and eagerly, and that will make everything worthwhile.

  I focused on that thought and used every ounce of willpower I had to bury my arousal deep at the back of my mind. It didn’t go away, not completely, but it faded enough that I could focus on something else except how much I wanted to fuck Ressa. “Okay,” I said. “So far, so good. We’ve dealt with your clothes. Now it’s time for ours.”

  Ressa hesitated. “Should I… Should I be the one to…?”

  The idea of her taking our clothes off herself made my cock throb painfully. It was so easy to imagine her kneeling at my feet, unzipping my pants with her teeth. If she kept pushing my buttons like this, I might not be able to hold back, after all.

  “That won’t be necessary,” I snarled. My accent came out thicker than usual, my fangs lengthening in preparation to claim what was mine.

  She must have understood the situation, because she didn’t ask anything else. Instead, she straightened her back and waited, facing her fate with dignity and courage. There was something almost humbling about that stance, about the knowledge that no matter what we did to her today, she wouldn’t break. In that sense, Ressa and Imogen Julius were very much alike. I’d have to be careful to never tell her that. I didn’t think Ressa would want to hear it and it could endanger the ritual that would eventually banish Imogen.

  Still not looking away from her, I unbuttoned my shirt, toed off my shoes, and unzipped my pants. Over Ressa’s shoulder, I watched Daimon do the same. It didn’t take us long to get naked too. With a flick of his fingers, Daimon incinerated all the clothes—ours and Ressa’s. And just like that, we were standing nude in front of one another, in the empty ritual room. She reminded me of one of those sacrifices the ancient Mayan priests had placed on our altars, so long ago. But she wouldn’t be sacrificed, not like Imogen Julius had been, not ever. She would be kept safe.