by T. A. Grey
Alex’s head dipped forward, chin to his chest as he breathed in a meditative state. In and out. Slow and deep. Inhale and exhale. Hanna found herself breathing in tandem with him. In and out, in and out. As she watched, he folded his fingers together making a steeple. She watched those fingers, the tendons and musculature evident in his strong hands. The hands of a man used to hard work. Little white scars were on the tops of his right hand and in between knuckles, some more pink than others were. He had wonderful, long fingers, thick enough to make her wet her lips and squirm in her seat.
“Hanna!”
She jumped at the sound of her name and looked up into Alex’s eyes. He was studying her carefully from across the room, his fingers no longer moving.
“Huh?” Her mouth had gone rather dry.
“I said I have a plan, but you didn’t hear me.” He watched her with the beady-eyed focus of a sniper.
Hanna snapped her spine erect and pulled her “confident face” on. Must stay focused. “What plan?”
“I’m going to get us out of here. I have some ideas. It might take me a few days, but I believe I can get us out one way or another.”
A worm-like feeling squirmed in Hanna’s stomach making her feel woozy. “Maybe that’s not a good idea.”
“You got a better one?”
“No, but running away--isn’t going to happen.”
Alex shook his head. “I disagree. Like I said there’s a few ideas.”
A noise out in the hallway, someone brushing against the wall, had them both clamping their mouths shut.
Frowning, Alex stood and pulled his chair next to her so they wouldn’t have to speak so loudly.
Good lord, she thought as he sat right next to her. His knee even brushed against her, the heat warming her cold leg. She hadn’t even realized she had been so cold, or maybe he was so warm from sitting by the fire.
“We have to be careful how we talk. The queen has ears listening.”
Hanna nodded, understanding full well what he meant. No one here was their friends, except Jo.
Alex leaned toward her and spoke softly. “I saw some snowmobiles. They have a stable of these things not far from the castle. If we could get to them,” he shrugged. “There’s also trucks. Big ole’ pickups that some of the pack members drive. They park ‘em in the lot on the west side of the castle.”
“Yes, but I don’t know about you but I know nothing of starting a vehicle without the keys. Do you?”
Another shrug. One that didn’t tell her much, but which increased her curiosity. “I know a little something about starting cars without keys.”
And that was all he said about that. Hanna didn’t press him, but was insanely curious what he meant by that.
“Hanna, if we don’t do something, I’m gonna die here.”
Eyes wide in her pale face, she turned to face him fully. “No,” she said empathetically. “No you won’t. A-and even if something happened, it’d happen to both of us.”
Alex shook his head grimly. “Hanna, you’re the sister to the alpha. He will do whatever’s necessary to get your freedom. He’s bartering for you, but someone has to pay the price for Remi’s death. I don’t have an alpha to fight for me. It has to be me.”
His words rang with such truth, she trembled, heart racing in overdrive. “N-no.” But when she thought over what he said with logic, she realized the truth of his words. Oh god...that meant they’d kill Alex. Hanna instantly rejected that notion--she wouldn’t let it happen.
“It doesn’t matter how much you try to deny it. If you just think about it, you’ll see the truth. Now, we do have a few advantages, especially since we know the inevitable outcome. At first I thought of just escaping myself.”
Her jaw dropped and without really thinking, she poked her finger into his stomach. “You’d leave me here!”
Alex hushed her, grabbed the hand poking him, and didn’t release her. He held her hand and she let him because it felt really good.
He checked over his shoulder to the door to see if anyone had heard her charge, but no one stormed inside. They both let out a sigh of relief.
“Listen, it’s not like that. But even still, I thought of that too. I don’t want to risk giving the queen any reason to execute you. Because if I did manage to escape without you...she might take out her anger on you. Even quicker than Jo or Gavin could stop it.”
Meaning the queen would execute Hanna on sight. In a matter of minutes, Hanna’s life would be over forever. No lykaen could survive a beheading. She felt bitter about the whole thing. This was not how she wanted to die, dammit. And to have Alex in this prison with her made everything decidedly harder.
Shivering, Hanna rubbed her hands up and down her arms.
“Here, let me.” Alex moved his chair closer and put one arm around her shoulders. Like a brother might his sister on a cold day.
Except she was far from his sister.
“Have you ever beserked before, Hanna?”
“What?!” Blasphemous words for him to suggest. “Why, god no!”
Berserkering, the one true strength of lykaens, aside from their longevity, was not something easily spoken about in their people. Especially among the women. They were taught from young ages that men only used that one dangerous ability. Berserking wasn’t easily done, nor controlled. You could truly kill someone without even thinking.
The pack soldiers were trained to use it: they described it like a switch being thrown. The more you throw the switch to activate the beserking, the faster you could do it and for longer. Any male lykaen was allowed to play with their abilities, to tap into that unique strength, especially as a soldier for the pack, like Alex. But Hanna was a woman. The lykaen women were not so easily encouraged. Even to this day, women weren’t often allowed to train as soldiers in the pack. It was thought that they couldn’t berserk without their emotions radicalizing the process.
The story went that when a lykaen was under dire circumstances, he could tap into his primal instincts. They called it beserking. A kind of increase in one’s strength, stamina, agility, of all senses. However, it did not last long and would be depleted very easily. Which explained why most soldiers in modern-day packs did not train to rely solely on beserking. An alpha could train, like Gavin did, and berserk for longer than others. It’s what helped Gavin to find Alicia when she’d been kidnapped from him.
If it could only last for two minutes maximum, what good would it do in wartime or for an extended attack? When one needed to fight for six-plus hours at a time? Longer?
Hanna had never even attempted to berserk. She’d never had a primal reason to either. Except, faintly she felt that was a lie; her mind found a memory and latched on to it. The night she’d escaped from Remi. She had run incredibly fast the night Remi had chased her into the woods. She’d felt a whoosh of energy surge inside. Was that her tapping into her lykaens beserking without really trying? Or just adrenaline? How could she even know the difference?
“Hanna, we could use that beserking energy if need be. Whether to fight, or to sprint to those snowmobiles. I believe we could get away.” He sounded confident and sure. But she nibbled her lip in worry, shaking her head.
“I don’t think so.”
Alex look grew faraway as he got in thought. “It wouldn’t be easy. I’m not saying that. I’m not even saying neither of us wouldn’t get hurt in the process. But it’s our only chance of getting out of this hell hole...before we both die. Queen Lysette wants us dead, Hanna. Period.”
“Maybe,” Hanna ceded.
Alex chuckled, his deep voice floating over her skin causing a shiver to rush down her spine. Licking her lips, Hanna breathed deeply, then cursed as that only sucked in his wickedly good scent. Mmmm, the smell of a man. There was nothing else quite like it. He smelled like the kind of man you wanted to bury you nose into and just breathe.
“This is all fucked up,” he said, scrubbing a rough hand down his face.
A telltale ache in her breasts
made them feel heavy, suppler, almost painful.
Hanna managed a nod. “Wrecked.”
She couldn’t keep from staring at him, especially not with him sitting so close. Even with his heavy arm around her shoulders, neatly tucking her against the heat of his body, Alex looked lost in thought, completely oblivious to the going-ons of her mind and body. Thank goodness for that!
If only he knew some of the dirty thoughts she was having--of what she’d like him to do with his hands and that agile tongue.
A flush, red as a beet, covered her face. Before he saw, Hanna quickly tried to pull away, mouthing to herself what an idiot she was. It’s not as if she was his type anyway. This she knew all too well. Alex had a preference and that preference was for badass babes. Biker chicks who rode on the back of Harley, who wore short leather mini-skirts and skimpy tops with high heels--in winter.
She’d seen the kind of women he “dated” first-hand. They weren’t the kind of women you kept around; they were the kind that could light the bed-sheets on fire.
Hanna felt a surge of pride fill her, making her chin tilt up. She wasn’t exactly a potato in the sack; she loved variety and sex in all its forms. She was a sensual creature; one needed the occasional petting by a man.
Hanna wasn’t some loser anymore--how her mate Tom had always made her feel. Like a loser. Underserving and un-fun. But she liked to do exciting, and dare she admit it--erotic--things. Sure she could never give her heart to Alex Thompson, for that would lead to certain heartbreak with a rough-body like him. But maybe...there could be other possibilities.
Hanna sighed, feeling utterly exhausted.
Maybe she could what? Sleep with him? She’d already done that...though minus any sexual intimacy.
As if he was even interested in her--though he had charged into The Burly Bear Bar that one day and kissed the hell out of her. A kiss she’d remember for the rest of her life. No man had ever kissed her like that. Like he’d wanted to change her mind. Like he’d want to take her right there, drag her off somewhere and finish what the kiss began.
Interrupting her mindless drifting, Alex he shook her. “Whatcha thinking ‘bout?”
“Oh, nothing.” And with that little lie, her cheeks flamed once more. She only hoped he didn’t notice.
“Did they light a scented candle in the hall or something? Smells damn good in here.” Alex searched around for the source of the smell--something he’d never find. Because she was already in his arms.
Kaity had told her to “think positively.” Apparently, Hanna had a thing for thinking of the worst possible scenarios. Though, to be honest, her negative predictions often came true. Kaity had told her that of course they’d come true when all she thought was the worst. “Have you ever tried thinking positively? How about changing things around. Instead of saying ‘I can’t’ say ‘why can’t I?’”
Kaity, young and naive, and yet...full of wisdom apparently.
Hanna had never thought about life in those terms. She’d laughed at Kaity’s suggestion at first. She’d always been an “I can’t” kind of girl. However, she’d taken Kaity advice and started saying things like “why can’t I have a good marriage” or “why can’t I have hot sex with Alex Thompson?” And since then her life had never been the same. She’d lost the cheating mate, gone on to date a prince of a well-respected pack (however unfortunate that turned out to be), and Alex Thompson sat right next to her with his arm around her.
“You know I swear I recognize that smell. Almost like...” Alex’s voice trailed off as recognition sunk in. Like a slow reveal his eyes widened, then widened even more as oh-so-slowly the arm across her shoulders stiffened before leaving her entirely, the sudden chill making her shiver.
In slow motion, Hanna turned to face him as he turned to look at her. It was confession time, she sensed.
Her name sat as a silent question on his lips.
“Hanna?” He didn’t speak the word, merely mouthed it as a flush darkened the hollows of his cheeks.
Hanna’s gaze dropped to his mouth, an ache inside her urged her forward to close that gap between them and kiss him. Hot, her body temperature soaring until she nearly sweated in her seat, no longer feeling the bitter chill in the air.
Alex’s lips parted, glistening in the firelight from licking them. His eyes watched her with feral carnality, his expression one of male hunger. Hanna swore he moved closer, his head coming toward her, his eyes beginning to drift close.
“Is that... Is that you I smell?”
She drifted towards him, lost in the moment. The heat between them inseparable but belonging. “Alex.” A husky whisper filled with so much more.
A look of agony crossed his face. “Baby...”
His voice trailed off as his eyes closed and hers followed, their bodies working in unison. Thoughts no longer interfering, only primal impulses at work.
Hanna’s closed her eyes as she leaned forward, a needy oomph coming from her as their lips collided. Like to great ships meeting head to head.
Heated warmth from his mouth pressed against hers. It snapped her, making her immediately jerk away to look him in the eyes. A bolt of lightning zapping her away.
Alex looked a drowning man. “Hanna...”
How could she deny him when he said her name like that? When she wanted so much from him.
So she caved.
This whole thing had doomed spelled out for them. Like an avalanche about to stir from a great mountaintop. The snow had to come crashing down and it would be loud and disastrous--and someone would certainly get hurt.
Oh well.
She didn’t give a flying hoot.
Hanna caved in, grabbed him by the face, and kissed Alex Thompson.
* * * * *
Christ, what was he doing?
The part of his brain attached to his dick said he was doing something very right. The other part of his brain told him this was very wrong.
Alex might have lost his mind, but at least he’d found sanctuary. Heavenly, wonderful sanctuary in the arms of Hanna MacKellen. A princess in his mind, she always had been far too good for him. Educated, smart, diligent, she was many things he wasn’t and could never be.
Is that why her mouth tasted sinful? Her hands winding their way into his hair made his skin tighten, hips knee-jerking in response. Fuck...she tasted good. Too good.
Alex dipped his tongue inside to get a real taste of her, his hand sliding up to cradle her cheek. Her mouth was warm and wet and inviting. So he took. Like a hungry man offered a free meal, he took even as a small piece of him hesitated. He shoved those thoughts away, or rather, she did when she made a soft, needy sound in the back of her throat. That sound drove him wild.
Alex grabbed Hanna by the waist, a small, tiny thing, and lifted them both up and out of their seats. Her arms twined around his neck, fingers delving into his hair to hold on as she controlled the kiss, taking him along for the ride. And what a ride it was. Wet and voracious, a kiss meant to mimic the act his cock definitely wanted in on.
Alex tried to keep his hips away, to keep her from feeling his hard-on, but Hanna was having none of it. She scooted forward until their chests were aligned, all the working parts pressed against each other. She was so much shorter than he was--he liked how that felt. It made him feel tall and powerful and strong. He was melting into her, needing to touch her all over, finally feel her skin to skin. He wanted to cup those large breasts which had taunted more than one of his fantasies, to stroke the curve of her round ass and pull her into him so he could grind his cock into her sex’s cleft.
Fuuck. His brain nearly derailed over the fantasies he had no business having over a woman like her. A high-class lady, while he...what was he? Nothing. A nobody.
Alex pulled back, a frown marring his face. Hanna noticed and shook her head. He expression soft and hazy, lips red from kissing.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
His mouthed moved to answer her, but no words came out. He couldn’t
admit it, to do so would be to show a weakness, one he’d harbored for as long as he could remember. He couldn’t tell her that he felt like nothing compared to her.
* * * * *
Queen Lysette Antoinette-Marie Gerioux stared at the portrait of her sister. It was a lovely picture, taken in Rachelle’s prime to perfectly capture her sister’s elegant beauty. The picture sat in a gold ornate, oval frame that normally hung above her bedroom mantle. As usual when gazing up her sister’s face, Lysette felt her eyes mist. If only her pack new what a weepy mess she really was behind closed doors.
Lysette put on a strong front for them. Her husband had taught her that. Never be weak. Not out of selfishness, but for her people. A leader must he strong and that meant being hard sometimes. To show weaknesses to your own people, meant rivals could appear. It was a form of natural selection really. If you appeared weak, someone would step up eventually to challenge you, and maybe they’d be stronger than you. So she kept up her royal confidence, in fact, she enjoyed it most of the time. She’d always felt born to be a queen, never one to shirk hard work or diligent tasks.
Keeping her weaknesses locked tight was only one of the negative consequences from her decision to be pack leader. She’d known it’d be a heavy task being a woman in charge of a lykaen pack, but Etienne had believed in her and because of him, she thus had the power to believe in herself.
Though, nowadays her thoughts were filled with doubts. Doubts she’d never had before.
Lysette hung the picture back on the mantle and tossed back the rest of her wine. Her fourth glass tonight. She had trouble sleeping as of late. Sometimes the wine helped her to pass out into oblivion, other times it only made her feel worse. Such as right now. Her mind was spinning in a thousand directions, gaining speed by the moment. At this rate, she’d never be calm enough to fall asleep.
On nights like these, when Lysette couldn’t sleep, and the wine wouldn’t do its job, she found she couldn’t stop thinking about one horrid thing to the next. So she snuck out into the halls. She would wander the darkened palace until her legs grew tired and her eyes heavy. Then she would sneak back into her room and finally pass out, not bothering to pull the sheets over her.