Voracious Vixens, 13 Novels of Sexy Horror and Hot Paranormal Romance

by Travis Luedke

  The warning in his tone told them to tread lightly. Beth shrugged. What did it matter? She’d either be traded to the Tall Grass pack to end the blood-feud, or she’d remain here with a mate who perhaps wanted nothing to do with her beyond the physical.

  She wasn’t stupid. She knew Gareth found her attractive. Things wouldn’t have gotten so carried away in that cabin if he hadn’t. But there was a huge difference between physical and emotional.

  “Three weeks,” Marcus reminded them, before taking a hearty bite of his breakfast.

  The plate of food before her didn’t interest Beth at all. She pushed her eggs around, and played with her fork. Tangy orange juice clogged her throat, and she grimaced as she swallowed. “So,” she began. “What now?” The Alpha paused with his fork half way to his mouth and Beth noticed a criss-cross scar on his bottom lip, faint and silver. She cleared her throat. “I mean, you said I had to spend time with both. Who first?”

  “That,” he announced, with a twist to his lip. “I am leaving up to you, Beth.” The scar reformed itself into the shape of a love heart, and Beth fought not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

  Nobody had called her Little Wolf since the botched ceremony. She found she actually missed the moniker. Who’d have thought it? “Alright,” she whispered, heart thundering in her chest. She could feel her pulse racing; her jugular seemed to have taken on a life of its own, speeding and throbbing. The hot stares of both men seemed to burn into either side of her face, and she swallowed hard once more. Who would she pick? Would she seem too eager if she picked Gareth, like her damn treacherous heart wanted her to? No, she decided. But she’d have to put up with that smug look on his face, wouldn’t she?

  And if she chose Donovan, she’d be making her bed, really. She sighed. Damn this for a choice. A stranger and an ass. And her wolf wanted both. For the first time in forever, she wondered if perhaps she would be better off on her own. Going rogue. She didn’t want to make this decision. How could she ever live with herself if she chose wrong at the end of it all?

  “Beth?” Melinda stood and offered her a hand up. “Why don’t we take a stroll and have a chat?”

  “Yes,” she dove on the chance of escape. “I’d like that.”

  ~~~~

  “I know things seem to be out of control right now,” Melinda said, her soft voice whispering in the ring of foliage. They had walked for nigh on a half hour without speaking at all, and now they sat facing each other, in a beautiful natural clearing. “I know you’re confused and worried and probably a little heart-sore too. But trust me when I say I believe the Mother had a hand in this, and that all will be well.”

  Beth nodded distractedly. How could all be well? She couldn’t see a time when things would be easier. If she chose Donovan and left the pack, she would be going into the unknown, perhaps to pine for Gareth for the rest of her life. And if she chose Gareth, she would always wonder if life would have been better in the Tall Grass pack. As a mated female, just entering the pack, she wouldn’t live with the stigma of being the child of a rogue. Even if she were mated to Gareth, everyone would remember her as an interloper. Her eyes stung with the effort of holding back her frustrated tears.

  “Did I ever tell you that my mother’s line had at least one psychic in each generation? No?” Melinda nodded, sharing a secret smile. “In the old days they were called seers. Because they saw things, I guess,” she laughed, the sudden sound of it startling Beth out of her reverie.

  “Well,” she continued, back to a low whisper. “I sometimes see things. Not as clearly as my mother once did. No, I don’t have the gift. My sister, Melissa was given that by the Mother. But occasionally I do see a little of something.”

  “Have you seen who I am going to choose?” Suddenly very interested indeed, Beth held her breath. If the decision was taken out of her hands, and she could just begin her new life, safe in the knowledge that she had taken the right path, she would literally sob with relief.

  Melinda shook her head slightly. “No, not that,” she replied, something akin to pity in her soothing voice. “But I have seen you smiling in the not-so-distant future, and your belly had a tell-tale swelling. Strong hands wrap around you from behind, and you cuddle into a warm and loving body.” She smiled and it was radiant. “So, you see, Little Wolf, all is not lost. You will be happy.”

  Startled by the use of her nickname when she’d thought it forgotten about, Beth burst into hysterical tears. “I don’t want this. Any of this. I don’t want to be someone’s mate.” Hands flying up in frustration, she scrubbed at the hot tears streaming down her cheeks. “No. What I meant was, I don’t want to be someone’s purchased mate. It’s so...so...barbaric!” She glared at the surrounding forest as if it would attack her for daring to utter her thoughts on the situation. “Why can’t I just choose a mate for myself?”

  “And who would you choose, Beth?” Melinda watched her patiently, full of the serenity that comes with being the Alpha Female. She had nothing to worry about. She wasn’t about to be bartered off to a neighboring pack for crimes long since committed. “Would you choose Gareth? Would you choose Donovan? Or had you someone else in mind entirely?”

  “There was no one.” Beth shook her head, dislodging those tendrils in her mind who would whisper to her that she was full of shit. “I had thought...but no, there is no one I would choose. I just want to live my life and settle down when I’m ready to. Is that so much to ask?”

  She could hardly believe she dared be so brazen and candid with the Alpha. After all, these were customs the Alphas fought – and sometimes died – to protect.

  “No, it’s not so very much to ask,” the Alpha surprised her by replying. “I once railed at the thought of being mated to anyone, especially the brutish-looking Alpha of this pack.” She shrugged, green eyes narrowing. “I thought I could drag it out and in the end, deny him anyway.”

  “That’s not what I–”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not. But either way, it didn’t work.” She laughed uproariously. “I made him slaver after me like a hound!” she whooped. “But while he was slavering, and I was stalling, I fell for him anyway.” Sober now, her face held Beth captive. “Nature will not be denied. And neither will your Gareth,” she continued in a hard voice. “If the Mother should choose him for you. Mating price, or no mating price.”

  “But, I thought...” Beth frowned. “If Gareth can’t afford the mating price, won’t I just be hoisted off to the Tall Grass pack, anyway?” Beth hadn’t realized just how worried she’d been until Melinda brought the subject up. What if she spent time with Gareth, and truly fell for him, only to be handed over, regardless?

  The stern voice of the Alpha male resounded in her mind. “You know the mating price.”

  “No, Beth, I won’t let that happen.” And Beth wholly believed her. That voice was steel personified.

  “Now, who are you going to choose to spend time with first?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “Well, it’s time you had an idea. Who do you want to spend time with?”

  “Gareth,” she whispered on a sigh, letting her head flop back to peer up at the majestic height of the trees surrounding the clearing. “But I don’t want him to know that.”

  Melinda grinned. “So let him think you don’t, and see how he reacts.”

  Beth grinned. “I like your style, Alpha.”

  “Please,” she grinned back. “We’re past formalities. Melinda, from now on.”

  ~~~~

  “So ladies,” Marcus looked up from the ledgers he was peering at. “Have we reached a decision?”

  “I’ll leave you two alone,” Melinda whispered, closing the heavy oak door behind her.

  Beth shuffled her feet on the thick rug, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her. “Alpha,” she began. Dust motes hung in the air, as if waiting for her to speak. She took a deep breath. “I think I should be candid with you at this time.”

  “I think you shoul
d be candid with me at all times, Beth. It’s always better to be honest, don’t you agree?”

  “Yes, Alpha.”

  “Go on,” he urged.

  “I feel,” she slowly blinked. “I feel I’m already forming an attachment to Gareth,” she whispered, embarrassment coloring her face. “You know we had...” What? What had they had? One night together in a dusty old cabin, and a few minutes on a rusty, creaky, scratchy old bed.

  Oh and one mind-blowing orgasm. She couldn’t forget that, could she?

  “I had heard.” The Alpha seemed obliged to fill the silence. His wry voice brought her back to herself, flushing and un-tying her tongue.

  “Yes, well, I feel at this time it would be prudent to give the Tall Grass pack wolf a chance to get to know me better, and vice versa. After all, I already know Gareth quite well, and it’s only fair if Donovan gets to know me just as well.”

  The Alpha cleared his throat, seemingly choking back a laugh. “I understand. A wise decision, as befits the next Alpha Female, be it of this pack or that.” He smiled softly at her, his scar pulling back into that love heart shape again. “You can inform them of your decision, but please tell Donovan that I would like to speak with him a moment, first.”

  “Yes, Alpha.” Beth turned to leave, gripping the door knob, she stalled long enough to glance back over her shoulder. “How important am I to the Tall Grass pack?”

  “Important enough that the Alpha wanted you for his mate,” Marcus replied heavily.

  He was the Alpha. She had to trust him, right?

  She found Donovan lounging in the living room, flicking through the pages of a chunky book. She smiled at him shyly and asked him to join the Alpha in his office, before perhaps taking a walk together. Immediately accommodating, he rose in one fluid motion and brushed her shoulder as he passed. He really seemed like a nice guy.

  Gareth was another kettle of fish entirely. Him she found out back, chopping wood as if his life depended on it. He was bare-chested and glistening with sweat, all bunched muscles and rippling skin. The sweat pooled in the hollow of his throat and she longed to taste him there. He would taste exactly how he smelled, she guessed. Like adrenaline and danger.

  Nostrils flaring, he halted in the middle of a down swing, his powerful biceps quivering from the motion interrupted. “I can smell you,” he growled. “I know what you want.”

  Hips rolling he swept toward her, tossing the axe to one side, where it came to rest against the base of an old stump. The clatter made her jump, but her eyes never left his. “I came to tell you...”

  Gareth lazily twirled a lock of her hair around his index finger, his eyes boring into hers. He made a show of inhaling her scent. Her desire. He smiled, wide and predatory. “What did you come to tell me, Beth?”

  She’d forgotten. She was lost in the heat of his gaze, the slight pull on her hair making her scalp tingle. The bead of sweat leisurely making its way down the side of his face, tightened her throat, and the way he said her nickname made her stomach heavy. “I...I...I’m spending the day with Donovan,” she choked out, in spite of the lump in her throat.

  He dropped her hair as if scalded and stepped back, his perfect eyebrows pulling together in confusion. “You–”

  “That’s right, wolf. You heard her.” Donovan said in self-satisfied tones. He stepped forward – she could hear his clipped steps approach on the wooden veranda surrounding the back of the Alphas’ Great House.

  She could practically see the muscle ticking in his jaw, and prepared herself for the explosion she was sure would follow, when he unexpectedly grinned and let his gaze roam over her face. He leaned forward, until their lips were almost touching, ignoring the warning growl from Donovan. “That’s alright sweetheart,” he whispered. She could feel the words he speared her with, his breath tickling her lips. “My sense of smell is wonderful, Beth. I know who you really want.”

  “We’ll see,” announced Donovan, taking her by the arm and gently turning her away. He offered her a smile, and it was so full of joy and life that she found herself smiling dazedly back. “Let’s take a walk, Beth.”

  “Sure,” she replied. And just for spite, she whispered just loud enough for Gareth to hear, “I know the perfect spot.”

  That’d show him for being so damned confident. It would serve him right if she fell head over heels for Donovan while they were out walking. She wouldn’t bring him to her creek. Of course she wouldn’t. But Gareth didn’t know that. She grinned, taking hold of Donovan’s proffered arm, noting the grim expression on Gareth’s face out of the corner of her eye. It brought instant satisfaction. And then, swift on the heels of that satisfaction, she frowned. It wasn’t fair to use Donovan to make Gareth jealous. She resolved to make a genuine effort with him on their walk.

  ~~~~

  “Did you enjoy that, Beth?” Donovan asked as they entered the cover of the forest. His arm seemed stiff underneath her hand and she had the fleeting thought that he was very upset with her.

  “Enjoy what?” she asked, quietly. All around her the foliage was just barely turning a kaleidoscope of browns and reds and golden wheat shades. Summer was behind them and autumn was making its presence known. She loved autumn. The sheer amount of colors the world turned in autumn served to distract her from the over whelming psychic connection to the pack more often than not. During the autumn she rarely needed to escape to her creek.

  “Bating Gareth like that. Did you enjoy making him jealous?” He stopped suddenly, swiveling to face her, his golden eyes boring into hers. “I’ll not be toyed with that way by my own mate.” He seemed to lean in slightly, to do God knew what, and then seemed to think better of it. “I deserve better than that. And though it rankles to say so, Gareth deserves more than that, too.” A tiny crease appeared between his brows as he frowned. “I may be mated to you, Beth, but that doesn’t make me blind, deaf, or stupid.”

  Beth was stunned silent. The first thought to enter her mind was one of triumph that Gareth had indeed been jealous, and then she thought of how she’d achieved it. Contrite, she ducked her head. “I didn’t realize,” she whispered.

  “You didn’t realize you were doing it at my expense, or you didn’t realize I had been aware?” He let his arm drop, her hand falling from him to dangle uselessly by her side.

  “Both,” she admitted. “I’m sorry.” And she was. She was sorry that she’d used him cruelly. She was sorry that his feelings had been hurt and that he’d felt toyed with. But, she privately admitted to herself, she was mostly sorry that he’d realized. She felt guilty about that, and decided to do her damnedest to forget about Gareth today. Today was for her and Donovan to get to know each other.

  “I accept your apology, my mate.” He cupped her jaw and rubbed a thumb over her bottom lip. It felt simultaneously too intimate, and comfortingly familiar. “Give me a chance, Beth. I’m a good guy.”

  “I will,” she promised. To herself as well as Donovan. She would give them both a chance.

  He leaned in, and pressed his lips to hers too quickly for her to react in any way, then grinned at her and led them onward. She held a finger to her tingling lips and wondered if it was because of his kiss, or because she’d been once again thinking of Gareth.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The first week was one of torture. The second, more so. Every day an obstacle course of male ego and feminine hormones. Gradually, she got to know Donovan. She knew his favorite color was purple, because growing up he had scampered in a field of lavender with his mother, the days seemingly endless. She knew that he had a fear of heights – most wolves did – and she also knew that he was a superb kisser.

  She knew that he had visions of not only a cease-fire between their packs, but a relationship of continued growth and friendship. He wanted them to feel free to roam each other’s lands, safe in the knowledge that the old hurts had been healed. He, like Beth, had not yet been privy to exactly what those old hurts were, but he was confident that through communication a
nd friendship, anything could be healed.

  He had a wicked sense of humor and an impish streak that meshed nicely with her fun-loving attitude. She could feel their relationship growing into something more than a forced pairing. If she gave him the word, she knew she could be content with him. She would rear their cubs and keep their Den House, and slowly suffocate under his good-mannered charm. There was no passion to their relationship. She despaired of it.

  Her relationship with Gareth on the other hand, had come to a steaming halt. They barely spoke, and when they did, it was only to snipe or snap at each other. Still, she wanted to climb inside him and curl up in his soul. She wanted him. Fiercely, and uncontrollably. She avoided being alone with Gareth as much as she could for fear the spark of attraction would burn them both to cinders. And he knew it, damn him.

  He grinned at her now across the dinner table. The Alphas had decided that while it wasn’t usual for her to live alone – as yet being un-mated, while at the same time being mated twice – but living with her Den Parents, while trying to entertain both of her mates was even less practical. So, she’d been assigned a cottage. It was two rooms only, a kitchen cum living area, and a bedroom with en-suite bathroom. It was hardly a mansion, but it would do. She had her privacy from the prying eyes of the pack, who were – in her opinion – too interested in her dating and/or mating life.

  The downside was sitting across from her as she picked at a veal casserole Bea had reluctantly delivered for her and Gareth this evening. She felt like a child from the ordinary human society. Her parents were divorced and she was near to torn down the middle as to who to see at any given time. Tonight, Gareth had won the Beth-lottery, and Donovan had stayed behind in the Alphas’ house, brooding and wondering whether they were kissing each other or killing each other. Either would be just as likely.

  “Good casserole,” he muttered.

  Oh goody, it seemed he was up for some discussion. She lived for these moments. Not. “Yeah. Bea’s specialty, not mine. I don’t know how to boil eggs.” She laughed good natured and returned to her meal. The casserole really was good. There was a new flavor in it this evening. She couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact ingredient, but whatever it was, it was tasty.