by T. A. Grey
The cell lock clicked with a sound he was becoming all too familiar with. The nurse was coming back for her hourly injection. White Death.
This time Jo couldn’t even roll on his side to see her. Drained, body uncomfortable and stiff and screaming at him to do something about it. As if he could. But his brain didn’t seem to understand that information; his body just knew it hurt and wanted the pain to stop.
Hands rolled him onto his back from his position on the floor. Sweat dripped into his eyes burning with salty vigor. He tried shaking his head to clear his vision.
Through his blurry vision, he saw her. White Death. She stood over him like a killer. Clad in white latex leather pants and a white medical jacket that stopped at her thighs. She had very thin, long legs. For a woman she was quite tall, easily six-foot. Her hair was blonde and so pale in color, hell, almost colorless in a way; it hung all the way to her waist like flaxen string. She knew how to handle the needle in her hand. Seemed to take pleasure in hurting him.
Fucking bitch.
He was going to kill her.
Once again she knelt at his side. This time she wore a different mask. Maybe she hadn’t preferred that heavy ski mask or had found a different one. This one was simply a surgeon’s mask: white cloth covering her mouth with string that held it around her head. She had pale blue eyes, not particularly colorful. The dimmest of blues that could hardly be called ‘blue’.
She laid down a black leather satchel, like a chef’s knife case, and unrolled it. She plucked a neon blue filled syringe and hoisted it up to the light to peer through it.
“Ready, Monsieur MacKellen?” She spoke with a heavy French accent. Voice hard like a commander’s. She was not a soft woman who could be manipulated.
His teeth chattered, an involuntary response from his body that he had no control over. This fucking bitch. He wanted to rip her throat open...with his teeth, only after breaking her tiny neck with his bare hands. His murderous thoughts were completely at odds with his typical mentality, the one which had kept him from hurting women. But, then again, no woman had ever tortured him before. All that had changed now.
She plucked the cap off the needle. It clattered somewhere across the room. She pushed the plunger with her thumb and a squirt of blue liquid shot out. She liked to jab the needle into his neck so that it hurt. Narcissistic cunt.
Before she did the deed, he warned her. “First thing, bitch. Is you.” He showed all his teeth, bearing his canines at her, like an animal gnashing to get at your throat. That’s exactly what he was. A fucking animal.
He swore she smiled, but he couldn’t be sure through the mask she wore. Her eyes crinkled with mirth.
“Is me what?”
He swallowed, even that hurt. “Gonna rip your throat out.” He barely finished speaking when the needle pierced his neck. Same fucking spot as before. It fucking hurt and he roared, thrashing in his chains but his weak, tired body wouldn’t do more than twitch.
More of that poisonous shit injected into his body. His eyelids felt heavy, drooping. Time slowed. White Death leaned over him, staring down into his face as if intrigued by him.
“I’m not scared of your threats, animal. Now sleep...for a very long time.”
Fuck. No! His mind fought, eyes blinking rapidly, moisture leaking from them, snot dribbling down his face. He had no idea what was happening to his body, but his vision grew distant, his hearing foggy and distant. Dammit. He was so fucked.
But he was gonna kill this bitch. Either here or in hell.
Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT
Alex managed to get a fire burning in the cabin’s old hearth. The chimney chute had been closed. It took some work but they’d managed to clear snow out the fireplace and build a fire.
“It’s risky lighting a fire, don’t you think?” Hanna asked. “Won’t they be able to see the smoke in the distance? Maybe we shouldn’t.”
He stood, panting from the work he’d been doing. “Princess, I’m cold and we got this bird to cook. We need a fire, else we won’t survive for long out here. Why don’t you get busy de-feathering the bird? The fresh snowfall is bringing heavy fog with it. That should help to mask our fire smoke, I’m bettin’. Plus, we have no idea where Xavier and the Justicars are. There’s a good chance we made it safely away, you ever think of that?”
“No, not really. I mean, they did find us at the sporting store.”
“Yeah, but we hadn’t had much time ahead of them, plus they’d had our snowmobiles track to help find us. We abandoned that truck a long ways from here. Even if they do find us, and I don’t think they will with the new snow coming, they won’t know which direction we went in. And, even saying they do, at least now we’re prepared. Plus, babe, we’re not the only place lighting fires out here.”
Made sense to her. “Yeah, I suppose so.”
Hanna picked up the rope holding the rather large bird attached to it. She flinched. “I don’t know how much of a warrior I am. I can cook it. I can even butcher it. I mean I’ve done it to chickens and turkeys before, but feather plucking? Yeah...I don’t know about that. A bit more rustic than what I find at the local grocery store”
Chuckling, Alex snatched the bird and headed to the kitchen, a dusty, cramped space. No electricity but the former tenants had left a few items remaining including some oil lamps. Hanna lit one using her newfound box of matches and set it next to an old, industrial-sized metal sink. There were no water faucets. But she’d seen a well out back. Talk about being away from civilization.
“Grab like this and pull,” Alex said.
Hanna stood by watching him work, mentally learning a rapid method to de-feathering a bird. “This feels savage.”
He flashed her a masculine grin. “That’s because you’re a princess.”
“Am not. I wish you’d stop calling me that.” Her nose scrunched.
He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. Suddenly, her breath caught being under the full force of Alex’s attention. Those piercing brown eyes of his, made her stand at attention, forced her to listen carefully. The whole situation flip-flopped at a moment’s notice.
She shifted, uncomfortably aware that they were nearly touching. Energy sizzled, hormones aware of the magnetism, of that those push-and-pull feelings that existed between them.
Her eyes darted to his mouth before skittering away nervously. Her breaths sounded loud. So did his. Would he kiss her? she thought. And did she want him to?
Unequivocally she knew the answer.
Her stomach twisted into winding knots of anxiety. Things were different now than they had been back in that cell. She felt...a connection to him that hadn’t been there before. A bond. More than friendship, yet different from lovers. She knew this man’s mouth could wreak havoc on her body. That only he was capable of creating these whirlwind of erotic sensations that could have her peaking in minutes, sweaty and aroused beyond belief.
His gaze darkened. “I don’t wanna stop calling you princess. The day I stop calling you princess is the day you stop being my--- ” He cursed viscously and looked away before yanking out feathers with as much brutal force as he could. The work was done in no time. His jaw was clamped tight and Hanna stood there stunned at his near admission.
“Here it is, prepare that. If you search the cabinets you might even find something to cook with.” With that, Alex stalked away, irritation in his steps.
Hanna found herself alone in the kitchen, speechless.
Lord almighty, this man got under her skin. Hell, he was under skin. Deep as the soul. Whether she liked it or not. And, having seen a different side of Alex lately, she realized she really, really liked it. This could only lead to trouble.
A man like him, who didn’t follow the rules except ones he appreciated, had a dark side she’d only caught glimpses of. Hell, he thought of her as a damn princess. All because she attended university, and admittedly, did incredibly well for herself during that time and afterward. Maybe he was onto something in a way
. Her summa cum laude honors looked far different on her résumé compared to his unfinished high school degree. But she’d never been a snob about it. Her career and opportunities had provided her with a far different life (and priorities) than Alex’s did. Neither was better, simply different.
But he’d called her his princess. She melted to the floor in pile of liquid with a loopy smile on her face at the mere idea. That’s how good he made her feel. Like maybe she was something worth having. Something unique and even...good. And he did it without even meaning to. That was something that her ex hadn’t been capable of. Living with Tom, being mated to him, was like living with a roommate who occasionally wanted sex from you or very occasionally wanted to go out and do something with you. Sex with him meant she likely wouldn’t orgasm that night. Meanwhile, he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants, let alone from putting it in other women.
Hanna flinched at the negative thoughts and shook her head to clear it. She had removed Tom from her life, in all ways. Especially from her thoughts, because, as she’d decided, Tom truly wasn’t deserving of that. She’d given him too much over the years. Including too many chances, which only backfired on her. Fuck that. She was through being that throw rug.
And look at where her life had lead her since leaving Tom. On a wild adventure! A dangerous one that might get her put in an early grave, but at least she was with someone, a friend, who could be honest with her. And she liked that. She liked him, enjoyed being with him. She was...his princess.
Blushing from to her roots, Hanna got to work and prepared the damn bird.
Chapter TWENTY-NINE
Alex kept watched over the southwest corner of the property through a window. He suspected Xavier and his men might come from that direction.
If they came.
When they came.
It felt like only a matter of time. He kept his gun in his lap. Silver bullets would be helpful about now, but he’d make do with what he had. He was prepared for anything. But, he would play things smart as he could. They shouldn’t have any visitors tonight. They could last out here a few days before Xavier would expand his search this far north to find them. The cabin was located in a remote location. They were fortunate to have found it. But they’d have to keep moving, have to find another vehicle that could get them back to MacKellen territory. So they could finally be safe.
Xavier wasn’t the entire reason Alex kept watch outside. And it had everything to do with the princess in the room with him. Holy hell. Things were getting dangerous, for him, anyway. Hot under the collar too.
He had been spending far too much time with Hanna. He was starting to care for her, far more than he ever had before. Things were getting dangerous indeed. He’d be fucked if he fell in love with her.
Straight fucked up.
He couldn’t let that happen. Had to put up some mental barriers or something between them. He certainly didn’t want to keep looking at her. Every time he did, he found new things to enjoy about her. She was a tough cookie. Not many lykaens could have withstood the pressure as Hanna had these past days. But Hanna was something special, someone different. Made of sterner stuff, even if she was also, ultimately, fragile in other ways. He loved all of it. Her intelligence, her beauty, her occasional biting remarks that never failed to make him laugh.
She was a MacKellen through and through. And far too good for him.
He didn’t think that out of some morbid selfishness. It was simply the truth. Lykaens weren’t far different from humans; they both had a relative system of castes. Whether they realized it or not.
Aside from outlying cases, a person who was a six would marry someone relatively similar on the scale of attractiveness and social hierarchy. Tens went with tens. Fours went with fours. And he wasn’t just talking about physical appearance, but ones career and lifestyle accounted in that number also. Fact is, Hanna the Princess, had always been a ten. Or, on second thought, a nine. Definitely a nine. She didn’t become a ten until she finally signed those official divorce papers to end her shitty marriage to a shitty mate. That had rang the final bell that thrust her into ten territory in his mind.
Mates in lykaen packs were not some magical, mystical thing that would necessarily last forever. It was up to the individuals to love and care for each other for as long as they wanted. A happy mating required a true partnership. But, sadly, as in Hanna’s case, her mate couldn’t keep monogamous. And Hanna had learned that lesson the hard way.
Only then did her strength and determination allow her to end her decaying relationship. Alex had watched it from afar, hearing ‘bouts of gossip from other pack members.
She saw herself as a failure, unable to keep her marriage steady as she wanted, no matter the effort put in. What he saw was a woman unwilling to give up--a true fighter. A princess and a warrior and so many other things rolled into one. That’s why Hanna MacKellen had always caught his attention--it’s as if she didn’t see any of these traits about herself. She was always pushing herself to be perfect, throughout university, hell, even back in her high school days where she practically ran the school. Hanna always did the most, yet felt like she did the least. He didn’t understand it to this day. Wasn’t her accomplishments evident to her? Didn’t they mean anything?
Since divorcing her mate, Hanna had changed. Like a whole new Hanna had broken out of her shell, a shell that perhaps her mate had helped to create. She was a new person, an improved, even brighter version of the woman he’d come to know.
She’d immediately started training in combat sessions with the pack’s guardsmen (at the hesitant approval of Gavin) and had not only gotten into the best physical shape of her life, but had shown true grit. She’d impressed more than just Alex out there in the fields. Gaining some muscle and strength seemed to have a positive impact on her attitude. Soon after, Hanna started appearing at the Burly Bear Bar, wearing smiles and looking good. Better than she had in ages. Perhaps it was just because, mentally, she felt relieved by not being tied to Tom.
Alex had found himself drifting to the bar more frequently than usual, under the disguise of hanging with his buds, but secretly he’d hoped to get a glimpse of her. Her life had been gaining traction. She’d been the talk of the pack since her divorce. No one thought she’d do it--that she would ever go through with it.
Alex had wanted to hear about what she’d do next. She’d been applying for all kinds of jobs, even helping Trish (the Burly Bear’s owner) do her taxes. Alex didn’t care about the bar, he rarely even drank, but he’d hoped to get a glimpse of Hanna when he went, and when he did, his body would stiffen all over. He’d become entirely aware of her, his blood rushing, eyes lighting up.
It was her, his mind would say, almost gleeful. And he’d hunch over his beer in a dark corner.
With her newfound confidence, she’d gone on a few dates. Heh. He hadn’t been laughing then, nor did he feel good about these “dates” she went on. His lip curled at these so-called “men.” Losers. That’s what they were. Not bad guys, per se, but obviously not on her level. Not worthy of the princess, in his mind.
Then, the final guy had come along.
Prince Remi Gerioux. A redheaded, pale-skinned, handsome lykaen with a dashing smile and debonair flair. Alex hated him instantly. Quicker than you could snap your fingertips. Remi had scum written all over him in Alex’s eyes. But he’d been the only one to see it, and he’d taken his feelings as jealousy. Even though it pained him to admit it. He was jealous at the man’s obvious wealth, and clean-cut style. He was exactly the kind of man who deserved a princess. And that had been the toughest nut of all to admit. Fuck, he hated that man. Even death wasn’t good enough for him.
Over time, Alex had watched Hanna change from a woman who hunched over and could barely look a man in the eyes, to a woman who stood tall, with her shoulders back and a smile on her face. A much-needed improvement. She was nearly irresistible with that smile.
Her smile could conquer worlds and bring men to their knees (if
they weren’t careful). Heh, he didn’t plan to be on his knees unless...he was doing her a favor. Vividly, his thoughts swept back to that night in the castle, where he’d touched parts of Hanna he’d only fantasied about before. He’d licked her between her sweet thighs, tasted her delicious, unique flavor, had suckled her sexy nipples and run his hands up her smooth stomach. It had taken everything in him not to complete the act how he wanted too.
Alex shifted in his seat, biting down hard on his knuckles, before spreading his legs far open to make room for his growing problem. God damn it. He couldn’t remember that night without growing a massive erection. Fuck him.
No, fuck Hanna, he corrected, his mind going crazy.
That’s how he felt. Like he was going nuts. Stranded, life in danger, the life of someone he cared about in danger, and on top of it all he was hard.
Fuck him.
Now that things had begun to calm down, he once again found himself drawn to her. Just like he’d been in that bar. Just as he’d been much of his life. Like a bee to honey, that sweet, tasty honey. Fuck. He had to keep his thoughts, and anything else susceptible, in check around her. If he wasn’t careful...she’d eat him up and spit him out. And he’d probably enjoy every single second of it.
But that wouldn’t be fair to her. She was a forever kind of gal.
A princess needed a prince to marry her for life and give her all the joys she wanted. And he believed Hanna absolutely deserved that happiness. Hell, she’d earned it as far as he was concerned.
But the problem stood that he wasn’t a prince and never would be. This wasn’t some fairy tale story where he could magically change his entire life to be something else. He couldn’t go back and change his childhood or fix his fucked up family. Fact was, he didn’t make much money and didn’t care for it. He lived by his own means. Sometimes that meant construction work for the pack. Sometimes that meant intimidating a man for someone else. Whatever he had to do to earn a buck.
