“Then let us begin.” Felicity strode toward her, long legs eating the distance in the blink of an eye.
“Wait,” came the feeble, but insistent shout of an elder. Margo, made her way to the front of the pack, elbowing and nudging people aside roughly. “The Challenger can dictate the when, but the Defendant must dictate the form.”
“Well,” Felicity spat again, every inch the scorned woman. “How will you fight?”
“In wolf-form, of course,” Beth replied quietly. It would be unseemly for them to roll around in the mud like humans over a man. This was pack tradition, and she was wolf. She may not wish to win the fight, but she had her pride.
“So be it,” Margo spoke flatly. “Let both opponents remove themselves to a sufficient distance and shimmer.”
As always, the shimmer came easy to Beth, and she realized how much she’d missed being in her wolf-form since joining this pack. She’d been human far too often because of the difficulty in communicating with the pack, a decision she regretted – her wolf-form felt stiff and drowsy, her limbs heavy and uncoordinated.
Meanwhile, Felicity, now the beautiful caramel wolf she’d seen the day before snapped at the air and curled her lips in a growl. Beth strode forward to meet her, stretching and warming her muscles. Quickly, her form was returning to her, and she emitted a growl of her own, echoing through the clearing. Stepping into a beam of moonlight, her coat seemed to shine, her eyes fastened firmly on her opponent, who was even now gearing up to take a leap at her.
In a flash, Felicity dove for her foreleg, fearsome jaws snapping, which Beth barely managed to avoid by backtracking a couple of steps, leaving the she-wolf to taste only air. Immediately, the other wolf returned to her offense, clearly and confidently stalking Beth, backing her into the taller weeds and wildflowers. Beth, knowing that she couldn’t be seen to be beaten as easily as that, circled her adversary slowly, nipping at her flanks as she could, and defending her own. The contest was not all one-sided, and Beth recognized the fact that if she wasn’t careful to control how the fight progressed, she’d have no control over how it ended.
It seemed all of a sudden they were literally at each other’s throats, rolling over and over, now Beth on top, then Felicity. The caramel wolf’s teeth came close enough to her throat that she felt the spittle fly, and Beth bit down on one of Felicity’s ears, tearing the top off in her fright. Felicity, for her part, backed away, giving herself more room to maneuver. Beth dropped the morsel of flesh to the earth and advanced slowly, carefully, always aware that in a matter of seconds, her throat could be opened for her. In a bold move, her boldest yet, Felicity came at Beth in a flurry of teeth and claws, only to deflect at the last second, swerving and barreling into Beth’s side, knocking the air from her lungs.
Her jaws clamped on Beth’s hind leg, and Beth yelped loudly, swiveling to capture a mouth full of the she-wolf’s shoulder. She bit down hard, hearing a crunch, knowing that she’d dislocated or snapped something. Felicity squealed, a high-pitched and pain-filled sound and drove herself forward abruptly, knocking Beth off her paws. In one movement, Beth was on her back, scrabbling at the other wolf’s underbelly, while wide jaws descended toward her throat.
Rivulets of warm blood washed down on Beth, Felicity’s soft flesh almost torn to ribbons, making everything slippery. Beth got a grip in an open wound with one paw and pushed herself upward, out of the most dangerous path of the fangs coming at her. They were still coming for her throat, but now at least, they wouldn’t pierce her jugular. Fighting the instinct to throw Felicity off and sink her own fangs into the weakening wolf’s throat was the hardest thing Beth had ever done in her life, but she managed to lie there while the she-wolf sank her canines deep into the flesh of her throat, sawing back and forth, tearing the rent wider.
Committed as she was to the course she’d set herself, Beth panicked, thoughts of dying filling her mind, until two strong hands literally tore the wolf from her throat. Spurts of blood erupted, dropping back to the earth to lie there like tiny, red diamonds, sparkling in the moonlight. Beth’s head felt fuzzy, and her breathing was wrong; the air kept bubbling from her ragged throat wounds.
“Enough,” said Bradley, her not-anymore-mate, and if she could have, Beth would have smiled. She was free.
Then everything faded and she lay in darkness and pain, until that too faded.
~~~~
Beth felt as though she were in suspended animation, floating amongst her most vivid memories she saw herself as a young cub, willful and quick to laugh. She was running through the forest of Loam Floor territory, snuffling and sniffing everywhere she could before hearing the tell-tale signs of pursuit. Twigs tangled in her dainty paws as she scrambled away, looking for a hiding spot. “Don’t hide from me,” a voice told her. “I will find you, Little Wolf.” Snorting in amusement, she flew from her thicket, a blond blur flying past the huge older wolf.
She was fifteen, her Den Mother was away gathering supplies and her Den Father was snoring softly in his favorite chair. She sneaked out the back door of her Den House, escaping into the forest she loved so dearly. There was a gathering by a weather-beaten old cave, a mile or so from the farthest Den House that she desperately wanted to attend. Of course, no invitation had been forthcoming, but she was determined to be there, anyway. Sassy and quick-witted, she felt confident of her welcome. There were seven of them already gathered around the mouth of the cave when she arrived, three females and four males. There was Julia, red haired and smart. Alice, petite and blond, and shy as a wild bird. And Yvette, tall, striking, with hair so dark it had hints of blue hanging down her back, just about brushing her waist. Alice, she adored, as did everyone. She was so sweet and gentle and loving. As for the other two girls, Julia and Yvette, Beth didn’t care much for them, but she’d heard her Den Mother speaking of her the previous night.
“She never socializes, David. The girl is just odd.”
“She’ll make friends, Bea, I know she will. She’s just had such a bad start in life that it’s colored her vision of others. But she’ll fit in.”
Her purpose kept her strong and she strode forward, trying for the right amount of sass and charm, and it seemed to work. At first. For an hour or more the youths played tag and teased and flirted with the opposite sex. Beth couldn’t even recall who the others had been now, but she remembered one of them - Zachary, two years older than Beth and so much more mature, with his smooth moves, his fair hair and his good looks - pulling apart the tendril-like fronds of a giant fern, flashing his perfect teeth in that roguish smile, and saying, “found you, Beth, and now, you’ve gotta pay the price.”
The kiss was wonderful - all she had hoped for and more - gentle and sweet, and oh-so-innocent. Just a light meeting of closed lips in five seconds of pure heaven. Her first kiss.
By that evening, the same seven were grouped around the central well in the village, laughing at how unsophisticated Beth was, and about how Zachary swore he could smell a heat coming on from just touching her chin. They laughed all the harder when they realized Beth had overheard them.
The image blurred, leaving nothing but the cruel laughter of her peers. She flashed to a week later, when she’d found Zachary stumbling through the trees, bloody and battered, a huge, dark wolf stalking behind him. Passing by her, Zachary fell to one knee, sobbing that he was sorry, which Beth turned her nose up at. She wouldn’t fall for any more trickery. She was done trying to “fit in” here. Leaving him howling in pain, she walked further and further in her anger and embarrassment, eventually finding the creek and a reprieve from the mind link with the pack that she’d recently discovered and despised.
Again the memory faded and she found herself watching as her twenty one year old self made love to Gareth by the water’s edge. It was such a bitter-sweet memory. It was both where they’d cemented their Bond, and she thought sadly, lost each other in the process.
Her thoughts turned faster, flitting from one memory to the next. A fall wh
en she was a child, cutting her knee open. And Gareth had been there to help her home, he four years older than her, scolding her like an older brother. Hunting in the woods after her first Moon Feast, and feeling smothered by the more experienced wolves who had felt it their duty to protect her. Wolves who should have been in the first line of attack. Wolves like her Den Father, and...Gareth. The celebrations afterward, when they’d brought home the fresh kill and Gareth had asked her to dance with him, only in her suspicious mind she’d taken offense and poured scorn on his suggestion. “I’d no more dance with you than a wild bear,” she’d told him.
Memory after memory filled her mind until she sat up in a complete state of panic. He’d been there all along, hadn’t he? He’d been the dark wolf who had attacked Zachary and made him apologize no more than a week after he’d hurt her. Ever since she was a small child, Gareth had been on the outskirts, making sure she was safe, keeping her that way. Why? The question confounded her.
Why had he been volunteered as her Guardian when there were other, more threatening wolves for the job? Why had he hung back on her first hunt, making sure she was alright, instead of on the first line where he’d fought to secure a place? She’d never smelled any sort of attraction from him, until recently, and then, not much. Her nose was so keen she would have picked it up had it been there to pick up on, so what was his motivation in all of this? He’d scented hers, quick enough - she’d been giving it off since she was sixteen. “I could always smell you getting wet when you were near me, Beth. It made me so damn hard, I’m surprised you never noticed.”
Why hadn’t she noticed? Because that was the way he always smelled, to her. He wore his attraction like a personal scent, and fool that she was, she’d mistakenly thought it was all just part of his aroma. What a monumental mistake I’ve made, she thought, raising a hand to wipe the sweat from her brow. When I get home, I’ll–
Her hand stopped short a few inches from her forehead and she frowned at the strange cuff on her wrist. Clearing the cotton wool from her mind took a minute, and it only sank in once she noticed the links coming from the iron cuff. She’d been chained up.
Heavy iron shackles extended from both arms and legs, connected to a series of old, but strong looking links, which in turn were bolted to a brick wall behind her. Her head swam, trying to piece together the events of the evening. She’d recited her vows at the ceremony and then...no, she hadn’t recited them, not fully. Felicity. The fight. It all came back to her in a rush. She’d lost, and thought she’d been laying in the grass dying as her blood oozed out of her into the earth. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Obviously she hadn’t died. And then someone had brought her to this cell and chained her hand and foot.
The heavy links made dull music as she frantically whirled this way and that, searching for her abductor. She could detect no scents in the air, apart from minute particles of rust, earth, and her own fear sweat. What did they want with her? She’d earned her freedom through her own flesh, blood and pain. By rights, she should have been sent back to her Den Parents, and the mating price refunded. Her breath was coming in great gulps as she thought about the fact that whoever it was could simply leave her here to rot, to die of thirst and hunger.
Even if she were to shimmer, the cell was four bare brick walls, with a solid iron door set in one, and nothing else but a low-burning torch set high in an alcove. Was this to be her fate? Her punishment? What?
Footsteps. She could just make out heavy footsteps above her head. Someone was walking above her. “Help!” she cried. “Help me, I’m down here.”
It seemed that hours had passed but eventually the great iron door creaked open and Bradley stepped into the room. “If you keep screaming like that, I’m afraid I’ll have to gag you in addition to...” he pointed to the shackles. “Don’t even think about shimmering either,” he quickly told her, as she closed her eyes in preparation to do just that. “I have you so doped up you’ll probably get stuck half way between one and the other.”
It was true. What once had been so easy for her, now seemed impossible, as if her wolf-form were mired in mud somewhere deep inside herself, and she couldn’t help it to escape. “What do you want?”
“The same thing I’ve always wanted,” he smiled that creepy smile again, moving forward to lift a lank lock of hair from her cheek. “You.”
“But, I lost the dominance fight...” Her mind was slowing down, her vision blurring around the edges. Whatever he’d given her, it was strong.
“That never really did interest me,” he replied jovially. “Although, you did leave me in quite the predicament.” His eyes narrowed. “I am due to mate with Felicity on the morrow. Not the outcome I had planned for.”
“I guess not,” she told him waspishly, gritting her teeth as he ran his finger across her bottom lip, stroking it tenderly. “But you got what you deserved. A mate as crazy as yourself.”
“Temper, temper, my love,” he crooned, leaning in to place a kiss on her cheek. Beth twisted away, but the drug was dulling her reflexes so that he appeared to be moving twice the speed of her. He captured her opposite cheek in his palm before she could finish the move, and then licked her from jaw to temple. “I’m losing my patience with you.”
“That’s not all you’ll lose if you don’t get the hell away from me, and let me go.”
His laughter echoed around the tiny prison, seeming to attack her from all sides. “Let you go? That never was, and still isn’t in my plan. The only thing that’s changed is the details. Instead of living in the lap of luxury as my mate, you’ll live in the lap of, well, whatever you’d like to call it, as my prisoner.”
“Why are you doing this?”
He stepped away, raising his brows in thought, before heaving a sigh. “I suppose,” he began, rolling up his shirt-sleeves, and settling himself against the far wall in a lean. “There’s no harm in telling you the truth now.”
“What truth? What’s going on?” Once again, panic threatened to overwhelm her, and the walls of the cell spun fast and faster.
“Let me tell you a story. The story of Lissa, Bradley, and Jake.” The last word came out like a swear word, and Beth flinched.
“I already know this story.”
“Oh yes, I suppose you must have ferreted it out from someone while you were here. But I’m betting that you don’t know the full story. There is only one person alive today who does. Me.”
“Tell me your stupid story then, though I don’t see what it has to do with me.” Beth was fighting to stay conscious, now, all thoughts of escape or attack having fled from her once she realized she couldn’t shimmer, not with the drugs in her system, and she couldn’t get the drugs out of her system without shimmering. It was a deadly paradox.
“Oh by the end of it you’ll see. I promise.” And then Bradley brought his story of betrayal and revenge to life in sickening detail.
“Lissa was always a bit of a romantic, at heart. And though I tried to make her happy, in my own way, she never really forgot about her other mate, Jake...”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“I swear to you, Bradley, I haven’t spoken more than one entire sentence to Jake since our ceremony. And I have no intentions of doing so.” Lissa broke free from his arms, and stared at him, narrowing her eyes. “But you must give me your word also. I must be the only female for you, as you are the only male for me.”
“Lissa, you are more than enough woman for me to handle,” he laughed, pulling her back into his arms where she belonged. “There is nothing going on between Lenora and I, but I must see her. For the boy, you understand?”
“I would never dream of taking you from your son,” she murmured against his chest, the vibrations tickling his sensitive skin. “Some day we will have sons and daughters of our own, and they would surely benefit from having an older brother...” She looked up at him, her eyes so trusting. “There is nothing between you?”
“Nothing,” he lied. He’d long ago learned to mask his scent so
that no one could tell if he was lying or not - it was quite beneficial in his rise to power.
He took her then, gently at first, but then roughly as he liked it, and she enjoyed that, too, on occasion. For a while Lissa was content to believe his lies, but when he came home late at night – far later than any cub had a right to be still awake – with the scent of Lenora plastered all over his bare flesh, she soon realized how good of a liar Bradley was. It wasn’t long before she’d started taking comfort in somebody else’s arms. Jake’s arms. And Bradley had been too distracted by the women in his own life, and the secrecy by which he lived, that he never even realized what was actually under his own nose until it was too late. For months Lissa had seemed aloof, but Bradley had thought perhaps she was worried about the fact that they hadn’t conceived in any of her heats.
So he let it go, he gave her space. He gave her so much space that eventually one night he felt his Bond shatter, bringing him to his knees in the arms of his secret lover, Lenora. Instantly knowing who his mate had replaced him with, he went quite mad with rage, flinging Lenora to the floor in his haste. He must find them both and rend them, limb from limb.
“Lissa!” he screamed, over and over, terrifying all who came across his path. Like a bloodhound, he scented them out, in the middle of their very own midnight picnic by a waterfall. “An idyllic setting for romance,” he bellowed, raining scorn upon them.
“We knew you’d find us,” Lissa said with a trembling voice. “There was no point in hiding, any longer.”
They fought, Jake and Bradley, very nearly to the death. Lissa had picked up a large rock when she seen her lover about to be torn apart, and knocked Bradley unconscious with a mighty blow. She might have killed him, if it weren’t for her pity urging her not to.
Voracious Vixens, 13 Novels of Sexy Horror and Hot Paranormal Romance Page 180
