Mated in Mist

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  Ryder shucked off his jeans and boxer briefs, leaving him naked and hard. His cock stood at attention, thick and long and so rigid that she was afraid he might come right then. Instead, he fisted himself, giving his dick a few quick thrusts as he licked his lips.

  “All the way off, Leah. Now.”

  She tossed her panties to the side, and feeling powerful, spread herself for him. He let out a groan and she slid her hand down her belly and over her clit.

  “Like this?”

  Ryder was on his knees in a flash, his face buried between her legs and his beard scraping along the skin of her inner thighs. He lapped at her, using his fingers to tease her until her body shook and she gasped for breath.

  He growled low, the vibrations going straight to her clit, and she came, calling his name. Before she could blink, she was flat on her back and Ryder hovered above her. His condom-clad cock pressed against her opening as he stared intently into her eyes.

  “You ready, little witch?”

  “Goddess, yes.”

  He smiled before thrusting hard. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she tried to call out his name but couldn’t formulate the word. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his biceps as he pounded into her, his cock stretching her yet relieving an ache she didn’t know she’d had.

  Ryder kissed her then, bringing her back to him as he made love to her, hard, fast, and thrilling. Her breasts pressed against his chest, her nipples hard and aching. When she met his gaze, her heart pounding for more than one reason, he pulled out and gripped her hips. She felt empty at the loss but soon found herself on her stomach with her face practically pressed into the mattress as he fucked her from behind. Her toes barely reached the floor, but he kept her steady, pounding into her. She bit into the sheets so she wouldn’t call out, and her fingers gripped the cotton so hard she was afraid she’d tear it.

  When he reached around and slid his fingers over her clit, she came again at his touch, this time with him as he filled the condom within her.

  She came down from her high faster this time, aware she’d been thoroughly fucked and had come without looking at him—without him having to see her.

  Leah knew why he’d done it. Not only had it been hot and an awesome position, but it had also kept a distance between them that was needed. He hadn’t looked at her when he’d come and she’d been grateful. Because if he had seen her as she’d come again, he’d have seen too much.

  And she was afraid she might not have seen enough.

  Chapter Eight

  Ryder was a fucking idiot. He’d let his demons win, but there hadn’t been another option.

  You’re nothing.

  You’re tainted.

  Ryder closed his eyes and let his uncle’s voice wash over him. The bastard had beaten him almost to death in life and now taunted him in death. One day, he might be able to push out the demons that plagued him, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever find the way. It wasn’t as if he knew of another wolf who had the same so-called powers as he did. As far as he knew, he was the only one.

  That wasn’t all that uncommon, however. He knew of a few Redwood wolves who held special powers. Such as Bay Jamenson. She had the ability to glean the histories of certain objects just by her touch. She could actually see the past wrapped around a pocket watch or random antique. Her mating with Adam over thirty years ago had only heightened her senses.

  And that was something Ryder couldn’t allow to happen.

  If he were to mate with another, he might increase the number of voices he heard, or worse, intensify the voices’ power over him. He could even pass it on to his mate, as Maddox and Ellie had found out when the former Redwood Pack Omega mated with her.

  He couldn’t allow Leah to lose any more of herself by mating with him.

  Hence why Ryder was a fucking idiot.

  He’d never felt as alive as when he was deep inside Leah, lying to himself that making love to her was only because of the need and not something more. When he’d been on top of her, sliding in and out and having to hold onto that bare thread of control, he’d felt his fangs elongate, ready to mark, ready to claim.

  His wolf had needed to mate, and Ryder couldn’t allow that to happen.

  So he’d pulled out of her and forced her onto her stomach so he could bring them both to completion without having to make eye contact. He hadn’t wanted her to see the truth in his eyes—the truth that told her he wanted so much more than a hard fuck at the end of the day.

  He wanted a true mating. Wanted someone he could share his life with. Wanted to form a mating bond that would heal them both from the inside out.

  But that couldn’t happen so he’d had to be an asshole.

  After he’d pulled out of her and disposed of the condom, he’d spooned behind her, unable to be as crass as to leave her spent in the middle of the bed, alone and shaking. She hadn’t looked behind her but had wrapped her hand around his as he cupped her breast. They’d slept like that without another word, but when he’d woken up early the next morning, he’d needed to leave her.

  He’d wanted to wake her up by sweetly making love to her and kissing every inch of her skin. He’d wanted to show her that she was worth more than a damaged wolf.

  As he couldn’t do any of that, he’d left her a note on his pillow and gone for a run.

  His body still ached from the exertion, the bones in his body not quite settled since he’d shifted as quickly as he could. He’d needed the pain to help tone down the desire running through his veins. Maybe if it hurt enough, he’d be able to forget who lay in his bed.

  Ryder ran a hand through his hair before leaning against a tree, his chest hurting from either the strain of the run or what he’d done—maybe both. The sun slid through the clouds, warming his flesh; though he would have thought he’d be warm enough already with all the exercise he’d just done. He stood in the middle of the forest on Talon Pack land, safe enough behind the wards, and as alone as he could be.

  As the Pack had made it a command that members come home and stay within the wards to be safe unless needed elsewhere, it was getting a bit crowded. If what his brother Kameron, the Enforcer, said was true, it might get even more crowded soon. It seemed Washington had a bill on the table that would force those of non-human nature to remain behind the wards for the long term.

  Caged.

  Forgotten.

  Ryder didn’t doubt that Kameron was right about those details, as it was his job as Enforcer to know about outside forces threatening the Pack. But that didn’t mean Ryder wanted to deal with the outcome. He would, though. As always.

  He took a deep breath and froze.

  Two spirits slid toward him, their eyes blank, but every once in a while they would blink and he would see the agony that lay beneath.

  He’d seen these spirits before—had seen them when they were alive, as well. And, of course, he’d seen them when they died.

  They were two of his uncles—the former Enforcer and Healer. Their Pack hadn’t had an Omega when his father was Alpha, and that was something unheard of for most Packs. Wolves could usually remain a healthy Pack without a Healer or Enforcer, but the Omegas were critical. The spirits of Uncle Reggie, the Healer, and Uncle Abraham, the Enforcer, stared at him, their mouths open, but no sound escaping.

  They looked as if they were yelling, but he couldn’t hear a damn thing.

  He never could with them.

  They misted toward him, not walking, but not really gliding either. He couldn’t explain it, but it creeped him the hell out every time he saw it. At least, when Uncle Timothy appeared, he’d yell at Ryder, call him names, and actually announce his presence. Though, in reality, Ryder couldn’t see Timothy as he could the others.

  Or maybe it was that his abusive uncle didn’t want Ryder to see him—just another form of torture and abuse.

  It killed him each time he heard his uncle’s voice in his head. It wasn’t as if he could block it out or fully ignore it. His uncle would jus
t get louder and scream until he finally acknowledged the bastard.

  What made it all worse, was that the former Beta, Timothy, had treated all of Ryder’s siblings and cousins with respect. He’d acted as if he loved them and tried to care for the wounds inflicted by the other uncles.

  Yet as soon as the curtains were drawn, he’d torture and beat Ryder until Ryder passed out from the pain. The other uncles had known what was going on. Through the bonds, they couldn’t hide it for long, even with how broken that hierarchy had been.

  When they’d died, and Ryder and his siblings were burdened with the mantle instead, he hadn’t had the heart to tell the others that the one uncle who had shown them compassion was actually just as bad as the rest. If not worse.

  So he’d hid his past from them, from everyone.

  He hid his abilities, his scars, and now, he would hide what he felt for Leah. It was the only way to keep the others’ memories safe. He’d do anything for them.

  Ryder’s pulse pounded in his temples and he closed his eyes. He tried to take a deep breath, only to come up short as his skin went icy cold. He shivered as the two spirits slid through him, moving past him on their way to wherever the hell they stayed when they weren’t bothering him.

  It felt as if someone had walked over his grave before trying to drown him in icy water.

  His arms shook and his legs threatened to give out from under him, but the spirits’ presence and touch only strengthened his resolve to stay away from Leah. She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve a broken mate, and she sure as hell didn’t deserve any special powers he might possess that could be passed on to her. It might not be a sure thing that she’d end up with them, but since it was an option at all, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—allow it.

  “I wish you would tell me what’s wrong,” Brandon said as he came close.

  Ryder hadn’t scented his brother, hadn’t felt him near. His damn wolf had been useless, but then again, his brother had come from downwind and had probably purposely done his best to hide his scent.

  Damn freaking Omega.

  “I’m fine,” Ryder bit out through clenched teeth.

  “You’re lying.”

  Ryder opened his eyes and growled. He let his wolf come to the surface and knew his eyes were glowing gold. “Fuck off.”

  Brandon studied his face and frowned. “There’s something off with you, something I’ve always sensed even before I was the Omega, but I can’t figure it out. You’re in pain, Ryder. Let me help.”

  Let the little weakling help. Show him how useless you are.

  His uncle whispered in his ear and Ryder growled, his hands fisting at his sides.

  “Ryder. What’s wrong?”

  “It’s none of your damn business,” Ryder snapped.

  “You’re my brother, and I’m the Omega,” Brandon said softly, patiently. Bastard. “It’s my job to care for the Pack.”

  His uncle kept whispering in one ear and the two spirits from before came back, sliding over Ryder’s skin like ice water. His wolf raged, and Ryder needed to lash out.

  Only there wasn’t anyone alive in front of him who deserved it. Only Brandon.

  “Get off your fucking high horse and go away. I don’t need your fucking emo powers.”

  “Ryder.”

  He growled again then struck. His fist connected with Brandon’s jaw before he’d thought better of it. Brandon might be soft-spoken and kind, but he was still a wolf, and a challenge like this couldn’t be ignored. His brother hit back, slamming into Ryder’s side. Ryder lowered his head and let a low rumble come from his chest.

  “No fangs. No claws.”

  Brandon nodded then sprang. Ryder ducked out of the way, rolling to the ground before coming back to his bare feet. He kicked out, knocking into Brandon’s knee. His brother faltered for a minute before taking out Ryder’s legs instead. The two wrestled on the ground, throwing punches that connected more often than not. His wolf reveled in it, loving the feel of another wolf to play with, as well as a way to let out his aggression.

  “What are you doing?” Leah’s voice came to him as he straddled Brandon, his fist ready to punch again. Only he’d frozen as soon as he heard her and hadn’t been able to protect his face.

  Brandon’s fist landed on his nose, the resounding crunch an echo between his ears. Blood spurted, and he cursed, covering his face before stumbling to his feet.

  Brandon let out another curse and gingerly stood up. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to break it.”

  Ryder winced, the pain not too bad; he’d had far worse. But he hadn’t been prepared for it, so it hurt like a bitch.

  “Oh, goddess, you’re bleeding. Well, both of you are, but Ryder, your nose.” Leah came up to him, stripping off her cardigan as she did. She held it out, and he took it without thinking. “Put it against your nose to sop up the blood.” He did as he was told because she’d asked it of him. As soon as he did, he wanted to growl. Now he had her scent pressed up against his face and he had to deal with a hard-on as well as whatever the hell was going on with him.

  “I’m fine,” he said, a bit muffled.

  “No, you aren’t.” Leah sighed. “Neither one of you are. What is wrong with you? Why were you fighting?”

  Ryder shrugged. “Just blowing off steam.”

  Brandon mumbled an assent. “We’re fine, Leah. He’s had his nose broken by at least one of us before. We’re wolves.”

  Leah mumbled something about barbaric men and stupid practices but kept her hand on his arm. He hadn’t realized she’d touched him, but he should have. He was hard and confused as hell. Damn it. He’d run to get her out of his system, and now he had her scent on his face and her hand on his body.

  The exact opposite of what he needed.

  “We have a meeting with the Coven in an hour. Are you going to be okay to go?”

  Ryder pulled her cardigan away from his face and raised a brow at her. “I’ll be healed in twenty minutes, Leah. I just need to clean up the blood.” He winced when he looked down at what she’d given him. “I think I’ve ruined this, though.”

  “It stopped the blood, so whatever. Now, come on, let me make sure you didn’t break anything else.” She turned to Brandon. “Do you need to come with us?”

  Ryder’s wolf pressed up against him, not liking that idea one bit.

  Brandon shook his head, his eyes on Ryder. “I’m okay. I didn’t have anything broken.”

  “Lucky punch,” Ryder snarled.

  “I’m just that good.” With that, his brother walked off, but Ryder suspected he’d done what he’d set out to do. Ryder may not have spilled his secrets, but he felt a little better by letting out some of his aggression. Damn it. He might have to thank Brandon now.

  “I don’t understand men,” Leah muttered.

  Ryder leaned down and kissed her forehead. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help it. “We’re simple creatures. We like fighting. Women. And booze.”

  She rolled her eyes but slid her hand in his as they made their way to his place. He didn’t know what he was going to do about her, but damn it, he’d just have to deal. Somehow. He always had before.

  ****

  Leah wanted to bury her head in the sand and forget everything around her, but that wouldn’t be helpful in the slightest. Two hours into the Coven meeting, and they were no better off than they had been when they’d walked in. At least the name-calling had stopped.

  “That witch is the reason we’re in this mess. A mongrel,” her father spat.

  Ah, the name-calling was back it seemed.

  “Luis,” one of the other witches whispered. “Please. Using those names gets us nowhere.”

  Considering the fact that the man had slept with her mother and was, therefore, part of her whole genetic makeup, calling her a mongrel was bad form. Not that the man ever cared about that.

  She might technically be the bastard, but he was the one who acted like one.

  Ryder squeezed her thigh, an
d she looked over at him. “I’m fine,” she whispered. “He can’t hurt me.” A lie, as the man could hurt her with each word, and perhaps even more with his actions, but she would at least try not to let it hurt.”

  “Witches are burning, and we’re here discussing politics,” Luis snarled. “There is blame to be laid, and we have the culprit right in front of us.” She felt his gaze on her and turned toward him, her chin raised.

  “Are we back to this?” Finn Jamenson asked, frustration clear in his tone. “The witches and wolves are now in the public eye, and there’s nothing we can do to stop that. Putting blame on the victim is only hampering our efforts.”

  “She’s the one that did her magic on camera. She’s no victim.” Her father glared at her, and she was pretty sure he’d end her if he had the chance. There would be no happy reunion with this man. Not that there had ever been a chance of that. He’d tried to have her wiped off the face of the earth before she’d even been born, and had his henchman after her family ever since he’d failed. He hadn’t wanted tainted blood out in the world, and now he couldn’t do anything about it without endangering the wolves.

  She wouldn’t put it past him to try, though.

  At that sobering thought, she’d had enough. “I was only protecting myself and my brother,” she put in and cursed herself. She hated being the center of attention, and now it seemed she’d never get out of it.

  “Enough,” Ryder growled. “This is getting us nowhere. We need to iron out the details of not only our treaty, but the public face of what is to come. The humans are after us. Not all of them, of course, but many in power. And don’t forget, the witches you see burning are not being killed by those in power, but by those who feel they don’t have enough. Do you not understand that? The ones that feel as though they are being subjugated and oppressed with each new Unveiling are the ones lashing out first. They don’t have to think of the consequences because they feel they are right. They are killing wolves and witches because they feel as though they are doing a service by taking out so-called lesser beings.”