Riktor

by Selena Illyria

  Riktor followed her. Once both of them were settled, Ace took off rowing for the nearby island where the challenge would take place. It didn’t take long for them to arrive at the appointed place. Ace got out and pulled the boat ashore.

  Michaela joined him on dry land. “Remember to keep your clothes on unless you need to get involved. I’ll be the one fighting alongside him,” she said to Ace.

  She scrutinized the area. A crowd had gathered. News travels fast when blood will be spilled. Only one of them, Riktor’s personal assistant, she recognized.

  “What’s she doing here?” she asked Riktor.

  “Not sure. As a female alpha in training of her own pack, maybe she wants to witness how a challenge goes?” Riktor strode toward the group. “Keep your guard up.”

  Mickey didn’t need to be told twice. She trailed after him and kept watch, with Ace bringing up the rear. Tiki torches cast a golden circle around the place. Only a few palm trees and bushes swayed in the breeze. Otherwise, it was quite barren.

  “Why don’t you own this island?” she asked.

  “Because the person who owns it wouldn’t sell to my father, and we only need our island,” Riktor responded.

  Winthrop emerged from the group, wearing only a pair of silver cuffs.

  Anger surged lava-hot within her. She and Ace growled. “Take those off!” she shouted at him.

  Winthrop grinned and held up his hands. “If he can’t handle the touch of silver, he shouldn’t be alpha. You know as well as I do, it’s no holds barred.” Winthrop glanced up at the sky. “Ready?”

  Riktor stepped toward Winthrop. “Do you need to be reminded of the rules?”

  Winthrop chuckled. “Nope, unless you need a refresher? Perhaps the delicious Michaela Shaw would like to enlighten all of us? Maybe she’d like to start as to why she’s naked? You’re not the one I’m challenging today.”

  She snorted and moved to stand beside Riktor. “This is a fight to submission or death. Wives and husbands can be by their partner’s side and act as seconds during the challenge. As this is no holds barred, only people invited into the challenge by one of the challengers have the right to fight on behalf of the alpha with whom they’ve made the deal. Once the challenge is over, the victors may distribute the spoils of victory with whomever they wish. Seconds can only enter the fray if their alpha is in danger of death, anything before that will cause a forfeit and the challenge will be declared over. Both of you start on a half shift and aren’t allowed to fully shift until the moon is at full zenith. Everyone understand?”

  Both Riktor and Winthrop nodded.

  “Just keep that beast out of the way.” Winthrop nodded toward Ace. He began to shift. Winthrop turned his attention back to Riktor.

  Riktor followed Winthrop’s example. A thick pelt of white and tan fur sprouted from his torso, down his arms and covered his chest. His face contorted, becoming more lupine with an extended snout. His ears shifted to the top of his head. His thick, black wavy hair disappeared. Claws extended from his nails and toes. The shift stopped just short of full werewolf. His arms and legs remained humanlike but coated in a thick pelt.

  Except for the silver cuffs, Winthrop’s entire body had grown dark brown fur. He snapped his jaws at Riktor, who let out a low growl.

  “Both participants have fulfilled the first part of the challenge,” Mickey announced. “And begin!”

  The men came together in a blur of sharp teeth and claws. They bit and slashed at each other. Bright spurts of crimson splattered the ground and against the onlookers. Fur flew into the air and puffs spread out over the ground.

  Riktor let out a pained howl when Winthrop hit him with blows from his silver cuffs.

  Mickey winced. Her breath caught. Her heart stuttered as she waited for him to counterattack.

  Riktor whirled and slashed at Winthrop’s side, then bit into his shoulder. He gnawed his way down. His teeth sank into Winthrop’s bicep. Dark red stained the fur until it became black. Riktor tugged on the limb. Winthrop howled and snapped at Riktor’s shoulder and arm, but Riktor refused to release him.

  Bloodlust, hot and tangy, rose up inside Mickey and coated her taste buds. She took in the crowd, watching for anyone looking to help Winthrop.

  The crowd gasped. Mickey refocused on the fight. She stared in shock. A trail of panic sent a shiver of ice down her spine.

  Riktor had ripped off Winthrop’s arm. Riktor dropped the limb to the ground. Blood pooled on the sand. Riktor let out a howl of triumph.

  “Noooo!” Amber rushed forward. She shifted as she ran straight to Winthrop.

  “Oh, hell no, bitch.” Mickey let the wolf take over. White-hot pain surged through her body, halting her steps.

  In slow motion, she watched as Amber bit into Riktor’s side and slashed at his thigh. Blood splattered across the front row of the crowd and dropped in thick puddles to the ground.

  Winthrop used the distraction and shifted to full wolf form. He fell to the ground on three legs.

  Mickey shook her head. The wolf dug its claws into her human form and pushed the shift forward until only the animal mind existed. The woman could only watch as the wolf rushed forward. In a blur of fur, blood, and saliva, Mickey slashed, bit, and pulled at wolf-Amber until she could see deep gouges and chunks of fur-covered flesh.

  Riktor shrugged off Amber and went after Winthrop, who was still trying to settle himself on his only three legs. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Riktor pull off Winthrop’s ear, followed by going after his other front leg.

  Her mate could hold his own. Mickey refocused her full attention on Amber. Rather than go in for the kill, Mickey focused on subduing the other she-wolf by getting behind her and sinking her teeth into the back of her neck. Amber tried to buck her off, but Mickey refused to let go.

  Riktor managed to get Winthrop onto his side and took several bites into Winthrop’s stomach. He ripped out large parts of the area until Winthrop’s intestines spilled out. Riktor rooted around until he pulled out Winthrop’s heart and spat it down to the sand before collapsing.

  Mickey released Amber, who fell to her side. Fear pushed the change back. Mickey shifted to human once more and dropped to her knees next to Riktor.

  Riktor lay on his side, panting. The change back to man took its sweet time. Seconds turned into minutes. Ace rushed to her side. “Is he—?”

  “No, we need to get him back to the resort. Can you handle everything here? You need to give your testimony to the challenge overseer.”

  Ace grumbled out a curse but nodded. “Yeah. You’ll be OK?”

  “I better be.” Mickey stood up on shaky legs, bent over and hooked her arms under his armpits and gently picked him up, fighting the panic that wanted to break free inside her. Full of adrenaline and using her werewolf’s strength, she carried his bulk to their rowboat. His hot blood coated her skin. She prayed to Artemis that he would all right. He had to be. He was Riktor Brody, damn it, her mate.

  She rowed them back to the resort where Banan waited on shore for them. Without a word, he helped her carry Riktor to the resort and into the family’s private residence. Once inside, Banan helped Mickey bathe, clean, and bind Riktor’s wounds.

  “I’ll take first watch. You get some rest.” The hard planes of Banan’s face brooked no argument.

  She curled up, under a blanket on a couch in Riktor’s room while Banan sat next to the bed. The after-shift energy dump hit her hard, and sleep took her under with no problem.

  Please, Artemis, let Riktor survive this, she thought.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Riktor awoke with a start. Blinding white light filled his vision. A foul taste of rancid meat and the metallic tang of old pennies rolled over his tongue and filled his mouth. His stomach roiled. Riktor grimaced and fought to smile, trying to keep down what little he had in his stomach. He shoved off the sheets and sat up. Bursts of pain went off all over his body, particularly on the right side of his neck.

  He stood a
nd swayed on his feet. His vision blurred and dizziness washed over him. An acidic burn seared its way up his throat. He shoved down his misery and rushed to the bathroom where he fell before the toilet and retched out the bile in his stomach.

  He placed his head against the cold porcelain and tried to breathe. Goose bumps rippled over his skin and prickles of cold surrounded him. A freezing wind brushed against his back.

  A cool hand moved down his back, and a cold cloth pressed against his forehead, wiping away the moisture.

  He started and tried to move away from the touch.

  “Shh, it’s OK. It will pass,” Michaela murmured. Her humid breath ghosted over his ear.

  Tension ebbed away, and he relaxed into her touch.

  “What—?” he croaked.

  “I’ll explain once you’ve showered and brushed your teeth. Come on, can you stand?” Michaela moved back to give him room.

  With shaky movements, he backed up and tried to get to his feet.

  Michaela didn’t help him. Instead, she flushed the toilet and moved away from him.

  He took a few moments to gather his strength, and with great effort, he straightened up. His wolf whimpered in the distance, but Riktor could barely hear it.

  “Your wolf will be weak for a while.” Michaela came over, wrapped an arm around his waist, and guided him to the shower.

  “Winthrop hit you hard with his silver cuffs. Your neck and back will hurt until you either shift fully or wait until the next full moon and shift then. Either way, you’re in pain. Ace has put Amber under house arrest in her suite until you decide what to do with her.”

  Her words were cut off when he stepped under the deluge of scalding hot water. He let out a pained snarl.

  “I’m sorry, wolfman, but you reek. We could only get so much sand, dirt, and blood off of you before putting you to bed.” She shut the door behind them.

  He let out a groan when she started to scrub his back.

  Michaela ran the sponge over a sensitive area.

  He let out a hiss.

  “This was one of the places he hit you with the silver. We determined it to be pure. He used wool padding to block contact with his own skin and Amber put it on him using gloves.” Mickey used gentle pressure to clean his back.

  Amber.

  “Why?” The word came out on a pained rasp.

  “Winthrop promised her the resort in exchange for your money, which would be used to pay off his debts and maybe, even his brother, who, Amber claims, was threatening to raise a stink with the Council about the way Winthrop was running the pack and how he was ousted.” Michaela’s touch moved to sweep over and between his buttocks.

  She gave him a firm slap on the cheek. “Could bounce a quarter off of this bubble butt and get change back.”

  He let out a groan. The pain turned to a sweet burn that raced around his groin and filled his cock. His shaft thickened and lengthened. Arousal simmered in his blood.

  “You know, the details of our first night as a married couple are still fuzzy after the elevator. Wanna refresh my memory?” she purred.

  “How could you want to have sex now?” As much as Riktor wanted to be with her and remind both of them, it hurt just to inhale.

  “Actually sex with your mate helps speed up the healing process. It’s a bond, spiritual and physical, between mates.” She pressed hard, biting kisses over his back.

  He shivered. His cock jerked. He reached down and wrapped a hand around the shaft.

  She continued her slow torture. Mickey traced his scars with her teeth, bringing the pain back to red-hot life. But unlike when they were made, he wanted more of her sweet pain.

  “Fuck,” he managed to get out through clenched teeth. “Why does this feel so damn good?”

  He grunted when her fingernails skated over his sides and the area where Amber had bitten him.

  “Because I’m your mate, wolfy.” She bit down on a thick bit of flesh and tugged it hard into her mouth, sucking on it until it became too hot and sensitive.

  He cried out. His cock jerked in his hold. “Mickey!”

  She released the aching skin and lapped at it with quick flicks. “You used my nickname. That’s a start.”

  “Well, you did jump in when I needed you.” He paused. His sluggish thoughts tried to identify the area she’d just been stimulating. “Did you give me a hickey on my butt?” His eyes widened and his vision blurred from the deluge of water.

  She let out a wicked, dark chuckle and gave him another spank on the ass. “You’ll find out later, for now, try this.”

  He gasped out when he felt the light dance of her tongue over his asshole right down to his perineum. Riktor reached out and balanced a hand against the damp walls. “What are you…?”

  She giggled. “Never had that done before, hmm? First time for everything. Next time you can have control. Just let go and trust me.”

  He ground his teeth. Some of his previous reserve rose up. Did he trust her?

  She didn’t give him time to think. Mickey took hold of one of his balls and massaged it while she bit, licked, and kissed her way down one leg and up the other. Her pressure changed from hard kneads one second to gentle tugs and somewhere in-between.

  She pleasured him, focused solely on him.

  “I fucking love being a Dom but this…I don’t mind.” She was so beautiful and sexy it stole his breath away. Her every touch drove his desire, his need, even higher. The part of him that loved control came alive and gave him something to suggest. “Massage one of your breasts but don’t stimulate your nipple.”

  “Bastard, but OK.”

  He turned his head to watch her slide out in front of him, get down on her knees, and readjust her hold on his testicle. With one hand, she cupped and worked her right breast while she tugged and massaged his left ball.

  Pleasure soared inside of him, lit him like Christmas lights as he watched her carry out his order. The sensation transferred to his drive to work his cock faster, with sharper tugs and sharp twists of his wrist just under his cockhead.

  He watched her pleasure herself all while she explored him with her mouth and tongue. For the first time in years, he felt alive and comfortable in his role. It didn’t even bother him that she controlled more of his pleasure than he did. Nothing compared to the high of having a sub under his control and giving her the pleasure and comfort and safety that he felt every day.

  He shuddered. A wave of need coasted up inside of him, threatening to break. Riktor paused and pinched the edge of the flared helmet. Some of his desire abated, for the moment and he returned his concentration back on her.

  “Massage your other breast and again, don’t stimulate your nipple,” he ordered.

  “Yes, sir.” She transferred her hold to the other breast and followed his instructions.

  All his aches and pains dulled. Something inside of him clicked. The wolf howled in his head, long, loud, and clear.

  He felt his strength increase. Warmth flooded his limbs. He continued to watch her. His dark lashes veiled his view.

  The water fell around them. Her skin glistened under the dim glow of the overhead pot light. Steam swirled around them. Her damp curls framed her face. Pleasure lit up her eyes. The moment stretched out until he could feel the wave cresting inside of him once more. With force of will, he pushed back the desire to cum.

  Not yet, he told himself.

  He continued to pump his fist while she worked his balls.

  “Now you can pinch and tug on your nipples and work your clit,” he ordered in a rough voice.

  Instead, she moved her head closer and lapped at his sac, sucking one into her mouth with gentle tugs.

  He groaned.

  She covered his hand with hers and together, with more pressure, they worked his cock up and down in slick motions.

  She paused and released his testicle, followed by her hold on him and her mound, and reached around him to bring a bottle of soap into view. She squirted out a bit and slathe
red it onto his dick, using that hand to return it to her breast while the other one traced a slick trail down the center of her body to part her folds and rub the distended nub. She returned to her previous work of sucking on his balls, first one and then the other, never letting him get used to her rhythm.

  Riktor matched the pace of her hand between her legs with his strokes on his cock.

  He released his shaft just as he felt the tingle at the base of his spine. Riktor reached down and tugged on her hair with gentle pulls. “Stand up.”

  She rose up to her full height.

  “Turn around,” he ordered. Bass deepened his voice.

  She followed his instructions.

  “You didn’t pinch your nipples. You deserve a spanking for that. Put your hands on the wall and stick that delectable ass out.”

  He watched her comply. His wolf was hungry to sink deep into its mate and become one with her once more.

  Flashes of memory hit him. Her ripping at his clothes. Him tearing off her panties when they entered the elevator and that one blissful moment when he sank into her wet heat.

  He needed to replicate that again. This time without being drunk on pheromones.

  The water inundated them from overhead. He reached out and grabbed her hip and guided his cock to her entrance. He thrust forward, sinking his cockhead inside her grasping channel. Riktor continued to push until he became fully seated inside her. He reached around and gave her clit a gentle tap.

  She gasped out. Her body shook. He felt the first tremor of her orgasm. Her vaginal walls rippled around his shaft.

  “No coming.” He bent over her and bit down on her shoulder.

  She bucked.

  “After this, I will take you to Black Howl, strap you down, and teach you control,” he murmured.

  “Please!” she begged.

  “For now you’ll get rewarded for taking care of me.” He withdrew and plunged forward, fucking her slowly.

  He watched her nails lengthen until they turned into claws.

  She raked the walls, leaving deep gouges and cracks in the tile. “Please,” she pleaded.