by Scott, Talyn
Jody shivered as she turned to face her captives. “You’ll change your mind when she’s dead.”
With that statement, Bren fully transformed. There was no stopping it. There was no stopping his beast. Tatum had been poisoned, and he had no idea how she faired. If Jody had her way, she and her partner would finish off Tatum with savage satisfaction, soon. Frustration welled into a catechism of fury. The bitch was his. Snarling at Jayce, Bren’s werewolf wanted what was taken from him.
“Mine!” His breathing had changed three sharp inhalations in, one long push out. Bren was aware of what was going on, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Helplessly, he was on the sidelines until his wolf decided to give back control, it was all his doing or undoing. His power and everyone else was at his werewolf’s mercy. True. Bren could read his thoughts. Much like his own, his beast was only concerned with one thing: his mate. This meant nothing else in the world mattered besides Tatum. Her safety, her care, and her body had to be repossessed. What else did Bren expect, but the same that was in his heart? The wolf wanted possession. Bren wanted love, the love of his life safely in his arms, forever.
In return, Jayce’s werewolf bared his fangs as a quiet hiss escaped his throat. It wasn’t smart freaking on the Alpha male. As always, Jayce was in control of the pack…in control of Bren. Jayce’s scent was sour milk with a touch of musk. The only translation was that his mating scent had turned to rage. At full moon, she should be underneath them, taking them both inside her body while preparing herself to carry their future young. Once more, he scrutinized his surroundings for an escape route. When they emerged from their prison, heads would roll - literally.
Gage’s heavy boots hit the walkway above the marsh. He could fight the change for most of the night. Although at some point during the full moon, he would have to run. He suspected that Tatum knew. At his advanced age, he could easily probe her memories. However, she had already been through hell tonight, and he was uncomfortable with causing her a simple headache to gain pointless knowledge. Her smaller footsteps followed close behind.
“Why aren’t we going to the hotel or the house?” she whispered.
“There’s something wrong. They would have been at the hospital,” he searched the landscape. In the darkness, his vision was highly accurate, an improvement over its daylight counterpart. He hadn’t come across what he smelled: human blood and death. Recently, other Werewolves had been in the area. Perhaps on this kill maybe not. Possibly just running the night, who knew? He couldn’t transform and investigate. With Bane protecting Tatum’s sister and Bren and Jayce disappearing into thin air, he was the current Alpha Male. e wiHe had never wanted the position before, until now. His eyes seared Tatum and drank her in - breathed her. Yeah, second thoughts, Jayce, Bren, and Bane could stay away, forever. “I have to take you somewhere secure. This isn’t going to work,” he spanned his hands. Striding forward, he sharply inhaled and bracketed Tatum’s rounded shoulders. He had always been a witness, a voyeur. Tonight, he touched her, and it felt perfect. So perfect, she was perfect.
“What’s going on?” She pushed away. “My grandmother said…oh, shit,” she stared at the moon. She was heavy again. Her arms and legs…breasts…the heat torched her skin. Arousal was flowing for no reason.
She noticed Gage’s body stiffen, everywhere. She took a step backwards.
“Don’t be afraid,” he rasped, as his canines elongated. “You know. I know that you know. I don’t have to search your mind to confirm it; he shook his head in agreement. “Tell me that you understand what I am and what your mates are. Do you know what you mean to them, and what you mean to the pack?”
She saw his teeth and a silver image flicker over his body that wasn’t human. She still couldn’t believe it. “No,” she shook her head. Hell, her whole body shook. “She’s a crazy old lady.”
“She’s not crazy,” his image flashed silver, again. It was a conflict between man and beast. As if he were sitting in a darkened, old theater with movie reel images floating across his face. He wasn’t furry or four legged. He had black claws, fangs, more defined muscles…about a foot taller. Oh, shit. He was a werewolf. She turned to run just as one overly large hand grasped her elbow. Easily, the palm wrapped around her with room to spare. The blackened claws lightly scraped the side of her breast.
“Don’t run. All werewolves want the chase, to hunt. If I fully transform…fully give in to my beast,” his voice growled, “I will catch you, toy with you, and fuck you. There’s no escaping that, golden princess,” his hand tightened as he brought her to his flickering body.
The seams of his clothes were straining. She could hear a tear here and there. He placed another hand around her waist and turned her towards the beach. “This is why we need to find safer ground.”
Screams, so many that her ears burned and her throat felt raw. Tears streamed Tatum's face, as she listened to the screams. Then, once again, she realized that they were her screams. Sounds, those were strange in her ears. “Oh…no…no…no, it can’t be,” she sobbed. She would have dropped to her knees if Gage, or whatever he was, were not supporting her. Oh, it couldn’t be. She was so small against this pain as her body was cold in need of warmth. She lost herself. “Troy,” she hiccupped. “He suffered so much.” It didn’t matter what he had done to her, not now. It didn’t matter that he was an ass, a pervert, a liar. The list was endless. What mattered was that he didn’t deserve to die, and he didn’t deserve to die with such violence…malice of inconceivable proportions. She shook. She shook until her spine almost snapped. Many, many times Bren had threatened to kill Troy.
“This isn’t good, princess,” Gage feathered a kiss against her temple. “I can hear your accelerated heartbeat and your blood profusely pumping, adrenalin overloaded. Perhaps, it’s time for me to help you out and give you a nap.”
She shook her head against his chest. “No,” she fought. “I need Jayce and Bren. What has happened to them?”
“I have to take care of this. With his chin, he gestured towards the body. “You will rest.” His teeth lightly grazed at the side of her neck, and he lapped at the tiny swell of blood. With his will, she collapsed in his arms. Gage continued to suck and lick the small scratch on her lovely flesh. As she warmed him up, she was a pixie in the moonlight, and a balm to his aged soul. Reluctantly, he slowed his tongue, adjusted her, palmed his cell, and called for pack members to clean up Troy’s remains. The authorities could never find this. No one could know about the pack, and this particular kill could not be passed off as a gator attack.
Tatum awoke in crimson, silk sheets. Overhead, her wrists spread and bound in fur-lined cuffs. She shook her head. Bren and his cuffs were getting another workout. The cool, night air was drifting across her skin, a delicious accompaniment to her overheated body. “Bren, lose the cuffs,” she mumbled. As she tried to straighten her legs, she realized that she couldn’t move. Her ankles fastened, as well. Glancing down, she realized that she was naked under the silken sheet and cuffed at four corners. A pagan goddess, her body displayed in offering. “This isn’t funny,” she felt uncomfortable, hot, and frightened. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she took in her alien surroundings. Scenes played across her mind. She had been ill. Troy had been ripped to shreds. Bren and Jayce were gone. She had been taken…somewhere. “Gage?” she swallowed against escalating fear. Her mouth was seriously dry, tongue thick. Between the meds and her fear, she was in desperate need of water. “I’m so thirsty.”
An unfamiliar, powerful palm soothed the side of her face. Three short breaths in, one heavy breath out, a low growl reached her ears. Werewolf. This time, she wasn’t afraid. Something had changed, was righted. Her body twisted, pelvis raised from the bed a fraction. She moaned against the large hand that cupped her face. “I don’t know you,” she stared upward at a beast. It was a silver mirage that echoed the form of a man. He groaned and raised his face to the window. Light interrupted the veil of the wolf, presenting his face.
> “Mike Carter,” she gasped. “Is that you?”
“Mine,” he tore the sheet from her body. With a swift intake of air, Mike’s beast knelt astride Tatum’s naked form. His eyes, so intensely blue, took in every detail, lingering at the now smooth juncture between her thighs. Delicately, the back of his claws graced the top of her mound. “Mine,” he repeated. Possessiveness emanated from his animal, his stance showed proud ownership. Guttural cries wrenched his body that confused Tatum. She was responding to him, even though, she was in love with Jayce and Bren. Shame poured over her.
As if he knew the direction of her thoughts, Mike’s animal carefully cradled her head, and his wide tongue slid across her lips. He repeated himself. “Mine.”
Okay, so in the werewolf form, words were limited. Tatum pulled at her restraints right as she heard a familiar, cringe worthy voice.
“Oh no, honey, you aren’t going anywhere.” Jody bounced into her vision, all smiles. “In case you’re too stupid to realize it, he’s your mate. It’s confusing, aye? I know. I know,” she trailed a finger across Tatum’s stomach. Mike’s monster snapped a warning and Jody blanched. “Okay,” she threw her palms up. “No touching, I got it. Anyway,” she huffed, “I bet you didn’t know you had three, huh?”
“Where are Jayce and Bren…and Gage?” Tatum wasn’t playing Jody’s games.
“Why do you care? I let you live. You have a mate,” she flung her shiny red nails at Mike.
“You let me live?”
“You really are brainless,” Jody quipped. “I poisoned the mousse, duh,” she attempted to sit next to Tatum until a bloody swipe from Mike’s claws told her otherwise. “Bastard,” she growled and wiped the bleeding welts on her face. “You’ll have to put up with all this nonsense, bitch,” she hissed at Tatum. “All the beast has to offer, has to say, wants to do. You're helpless to fight it. You have to obey and obey often,” she giggled as an afterthought. “You weren’t raised with us. It will take some getting used to. You know, being owned by an animal and all,” she laughed as a crazy woman, methodically.
“I wanted you to die,” she shrugged as if she were discussing the lunch menu at the restaurant. “But Mike wouldn’t let me. The idiot was supposed to intercept you at the hospital. Gage, poor Gage,” she mused, “beat him to it. We had to wait hours before we could bring you here. Normally, you would mate under the full moon. However, you are in heat, poor baby, and we brought you inside to stifle your scent. Possibly, it will work, and no other werewolves will circle the perimeter. Although, it would be funny to see a bitch like you get gang banged,” she laughed as if she had told the funniest joke and was startled that no one else was amused.
“After you and Mike get it on, and the sun rises; you'll be off-limits to Jayce and Bren. It’s the way of the wolf,” she threw her hands up. All the mates have to claim on the same night or lose out. They’ll never be able to touch you, again. No claiming, no fancy houses, clothes, cars, trips around the world and sparkling jewelry; nope, none at all,” she laughed. “It will all go to someone else.”
“You?”
Jody barked with laughter, “As soon as they calm down, yeah.”
“Then, they’re still alive,” Tatum released the tension in her shoulders. She didn’t care what happened to her as long as she knew that Jayce and Bren would be okay. They were alive. She almost wept in relief. “You killed Troy,” she accused Jody.
“Who’s Troy?”
“My ex-husband,” Tatum tried not to think about her nudity. “In the manner in which he was killed, I’m certain that it was you,” she steadied her eyes, as she watched the moving coldness play across Jody’s face.
“Who knows these things?” Jody stretched as a sated kitten. “I had better go. Your former men are bound to need some physical contact. After all,” she smirked, “their mate isn’t around for the full moon.”
Tatum bit her tongue. She could have screamed every obscenity, every threat that crossed her mind. Something inside told her not to. No, she didn’t want Jody near Jayce and Bren. They were alive, and she had to be thankful. She didn’t know how the creature, the werewolf, worked. If what Jody said were true, she was in trouble if Mike got his groove on, and Jayce and Bren were held up somewhere. Yeah, her insides said not to keep Jody around, as it would be easier to escape without her near, even if the thought of her touching her men shattered her heart. “So, Mike is my mate.” Tatum audibly swallowed.
“It’s a nice little secret, huh? Poor guy, it was hard on him to wait on the sidelines, but worth it in the long run. Right, bro?”
“He’s your brother?” Tatum continued to gather information. For what she wasn’t sure, yet.
“Half,” she curled a lip at Mike’s sharp snarl. “I’m going, gees. See you later ‘has been queen’,” she flickered silver and dashed through the door. In the distance, Tatum heard the clicks of several latches. Mike’s beast turned to her. With heated blue eyes that never left hers, the rasps of his throaty voice demanded. “Taste you.”
She couldn’t move. Mike’s ebony strands skimmed Tatum’s parted thighs. His tongue, much like Bren has, circled her clit ever so slowly, ever so thoroughly. Calloused hands pet the sides of her body. Up and down, they skimmed, learned, caressed, and loved. “Um,” he growled into her center. The sound sent tingles of awareness through her vagina. She was responding to him, and she didn’t want to at all. Jody hadn’t been lying about this one; there was no way that Mike wasn’t her mate. His tongue, rough and extended, slid deep inside her moist sheath, as he hummed his approval. Deep, oh so deep, he pierced her opening with his animal’s ever-long tongue. Lapping, cajoling, teasing, reaching up, up, up to her….
“Oh, damn it!” she bucked as far as the restraints allowed, shouting, against the driest of throats, an impending orgasm. No way, she tried to fight it back. He had curled that monstrous tongue around her inner walls and had hit her g-spot with a vengeance. The fight, the lack of the fight, was overwhelming. She didn’t want it to stop, didn’t want him to stop. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she was wrong. She was cheating on the men she loved. Sure, she was anchored on the bed at the sexual mercy of a werewolf, but still; she shouldn’t be flying out of her body. “Oh…oh…,” she shouted and cried real tears.
Never had she felt anything this wicked. The moment he accented it with a pinch to her clit, well, let’s just say that her life had been given new meaning. Blinking the stars away, her body locked on itself. With hips lifted as far as they could go, she escalated to the very top, as a gush of hot liquid exploded from inside her. Full and throaty, her voice groaned alongside his growls of appreciation. He slightly rose, cocking his head to the side and stared at her face. She couldn’t look away, as signs of her orgasm, her betrayal, were showcased all over his face. Never breaking the stare, his tongue red and dripping, leisurely swept his lips, as he enjoyed the evidence of her surrender. “Mine,” he repeated.
She was shaking, throbbing, spiraling, and blacking in and out. Sensing that she was trying to adjust to the aftershocks of her mammoth orgasm, in a pure canine-like manner, Mike licked the insides of her thighs to clean up her mess. Of course, that wasn’t soothing, to say the least. A fog, a heat of a haze, obliterated her vision. Thinking quickly, she closed her eyes. “Mike, um, that was great and all,” she sighed. “But the tying me up thing, well yeah, I can’t deal with it.” A thought occurred to her, “I want to touch you, too,” she felt him still. A slow nibble that started from between her thighs, over her left hipbone and landing on her navel brought her eyes open. “Wow,” she swallowed, “you really know your way around the female form.”
“Mine,” he repeated and placed clawed hands on her breasts. Squeezing, a little firmer than what she was used to, he grazed his fangs from her belly button to the hollow between her breasts. Gathering her full mounds in each hand, he brought her nipples together. Nipping, lathering, sucking without mercy, Mike’s wolf shuddered above her. He was naked. His long, thick
erection pressed against her hip as he stroked it across her sensitive skin.
A fierce sting brought her attention to the top of his head. Had he bitten her? He licked at something wet on the underside of her right breast. “Mike?” She gasped. When he lifted his head, she spied fresh blood on his mouth. Still unused to looking through the flickering mirage of animal to see the man, she, once again, tried to remain calm. “Please, don’t bite me, Mike,” she whispered. “I’m really thirsty,” hoping that his instincts were to provide as well as to take; Tatum wanted to find a way out of her confines. “I need nourishment,” she pleaded.
Mike sniffed the scratch left by Gage. With a warning growl, he palmed the front of her throat. Squeezing, he repeated, “Mine.”
“I know,” she swallowed against his hand, as he licked the side of her face. Rough and scented with the coppery tang of blood, she turned away from his mouth. “I was tricked, remember? Your sister, Jody, hurt me. She’s done something with your Alpha. Gage was only protecting me.” His growl of displeasure rocked the roof. “Okay,” she soothed. “He was protecting me until you could find me,” she lied. “Can you, please, give me a drink of water?” Her mouth filled with cotton. “My ankles and wrists are sore. You don’t want me to hurt, do you?” she pleaded.
