One True Mate 5: Shifter's Rogue

by Lisa Ladew

  He let go of her then and flipped her over, pulling out only long enough to get her on her belly, then bam, he was back inside her, one hand on her hip, his fingers digging in to the soft flesh there, the other hand gathering a fistful of her hair and pulling her head back by it.

  “Oh shit,” she breathed, as she came up on hands and knees, trying to ease his hold on her. But she didn’t say stop, and her quiet moans thickened, telling him she loved it. Loved all of it hard, wanted to experience it any and every way he did.

  He eyed the smooth spot where her neck met her shoulder and his mouth watered, his fangs lengthening. He wanted to bite her, claim her, make her his forever, but he clamped down hard on the desire. There would be plenty of time for that. No way he was going to do anything to jeopardize their current sexy truce.

  Fuck, he was in for a good rest of his life.

  Chapter 39

  Mac snuck out to the kitchen naked, grabbed a handful of leftovers, then brought them back to his mate, spreading them out before her on the bed like an offering.

  The edge was finally off. He’d given her five orgasms, and he’d had three himself. He could look at her naked body, cross-legged in his bed, and not pop an automatic boner. At least for a bit.

  He sat down across from her, his weight on the bed making the food containers tip. She laughed, a relaxed sound that made his heart glad.

  She opened a container of chicken fried rice and began to eat perfectly with the chopsticks he’d found. “Lily,” she said out of nowhere, then her eyes met his and he saw intense vulnerability there. A vulnerability she’d never shown him before. He wasn’t sure what kind of an admission lily was, but he was going to be very careful with it.

  “Lily?”

  “It’s my name. My real name.”

  Right. Shit. He should have known that. “I like it.”

  “I don’t. I hate it. I always hated it. My sister’s name was cool. Amaranth. I called her Amara. But Lily? I mean, come on, you’ve got Water Lily, some stupid little plant. And it’s so girly.”

  Mac tried not to grin. Rogue was all girl, but definitely not girly.

  “My sister named me Rogue. She found it in a book. I loved it right away. It’s a lot tougher than Lily. I haven’t told anyone my real name in years.”

  “Right. Good.” He hated the sadness in her voice. Mac nodded, not knowing what else to say. No one but Bruin had ever trusted him with anything before. But when he looked at her, he could tell he was doing ok. Her color was high, her face relaxed, and when their eyes met, she smiled at him, making his heart race. He smiled back.

  She shifted on the bed. “Shit, I’m a little sore. Way too long since I’ve had sex like that.”

  Mac tried to grin and frown at the same time. “How long?”

  She looked at him over the bit of rice she was placing delicately into her mouth, not a grain slipping off the chopsticks. She chewed slowly, making him wait for the answer, but then she grinned. “Four years.”

  Hell, yeah. That’s what he liked to hear. “But that’s not the last time you were with someone.”

  She watched him again as she kept eating. “You really want to know the answer to that?”

  He sighed and dug around in the food, trying to find something that looked good to him. He really wanted a sandwich. “No. Tell me about your sister. It doesn’t sound like she’s around.”

  “She’s not.” Mac glanced up, and the pain on Rogue’s face made his own chest hurt. “I haven’t seen her since I was five. Don’t have any idea where she is, if she’s even alive.”

  Shit. What did he say to that? He reached out and took her hand, the one that wasn’t holding the chopsticks. She gave him a sad smile, then kept eating.

  When she was done, she stretched out on the bed, pulling a blanket over her. “I really am worn out. You mind if I take a nap?”

  “Want me in here with you?”

  “No, go pay attention to Bruin. He’s lonely out there.”

  Mac pressed a kiss to her forehead, got dressed, and did as she’d said. She was smart, his mate.

  He plopped down on the couch next to Bruin. “What are we watching?”

  He looked up. “Cake Apprentice. I was thinking about ordering some food.”

  “Yeah, let’s get subs.”

  “Perfect.”

  But before Bruin could get off the couch, he went rigid, staring straight at the wall just above the TV, his face that slack weirdness Mac had seen once before, when Bruin had told him his mate would be at the rut.

  “Claim her.” Bruin said. “You must claim her this day, or she dies the next.”

  Mac leapt to his feet, getting in front of Bruin. “What?” he all but shouted.

  Bruin shook his head, his eyes narrowing as he saw Mac in his face. “What?”

  Mac grabbed him by his shirt. “You just said I had to claim her or she dies.”

  Bruin’s hands had been moving to grab Mac’s fingers off of him but they froze in mid-air and he opened his eyes wide. “No.”

  Mac tried to shake him, but it was like shaking a brick wall. “Yes! That’s what you fucking said. What does it mean?”

  Bruin dropped heavily against the back of the couch, pulling out of Mac’s grip, his voice sick with guilt and worry. “I don’t know, Mac, I honestly have no idea.”

  ***

  Mac paced in the kitchen, Bruin standing next to him, the bear wringing his big hands.

  “Mac, I think you should call someone, tell Wade. Or Trevor, tell them.”

  “And what are we gonna do that we’re not already doing? They don’t know about you anyway, so it’s not like we’re going to be able to convince them how serious it is. They’re gonna say it doesn’t mean anything, that you could be wrong.” He looked at Bruin, hopeful. “You could be wrong, right?”

  The big bear shook his head. “I’ve never been wrong, as far as I know.”

  “How many times have you done it?”

  “Six. The first time was when I was four years old. Nobody believed me, and we all paid for it. We’re all still paying for it.” Bruin walked out of the room, leaving Mac to stare after him, cold fear filling his heart.

  He knew one thing that had happened when Bruin had been four years old. That had been the year the females were all killed.

  Chapter 40

  Mac paced through the house, unable to concentrate on anyone or anything. They hadn’t ordered more food. Neither of them had felt like eating. Bruin was sitting on the couch staring at the wall, a pile of misery. Rogue was still sleeping.

  They’d gone over and over his dilemma, and he couldn’t see what to do.

  Claiming was special. It meant something to shiften. It meant everything to shiften, they had no greater ritual. Even a mating ceremony paled in comparison to putting your teeth in your mate. In the old days, they hadn’t even done the ceremony, just the claiming was enough. You never claimed a female without her consent. But if he told Roe what it was, he was almost certain she would say she wasn’t ready for it, tell him no, Mac, don’t do that to me, not yet.

  And then what? Bruin said if he didn’t do it, she would die, and that was completely unacceptable. He didn’t know how she would die, but he wasn’t going to waste time trying to figure it out. Wasn’t going to let it happen, no matter what.

  So if he told her and she said no, and he did it anyway, he would be claiming her without her consent. Wolven didn’t believe in hell, but they did believe in hell on Earth, and that was one of the things that would send you there. Shiften males were so wired to provide for, protect, and love their mates, that doing something so important to them without their consent was completely damning to the relationship, to the male’s very connection with Rhen.

  So that was out. He couldn’t tell her. What if he told her what Bruin had said, convinced her that Bruin had been right before, that he believed Bruin was right now. That if he didn’t claim her, she would die.

  He knew his mate, knew that was no gua
rantee that she would say, ok, do it then. She didn’t like to be told what to do, hated having her hand forced, knew she was strong and capable. She might just decide she would rather fight whatever would try to kill her than submit to something like that. He could hear her argument now.

  What does the claiming do?

  Nothing except bind us together, as if we’d been married.

  So how is that going to save my life?

  I don’t know.

  She’d shrug and walk off. That’s stupid. We aren’t doing that.

  Which meant he was left with no choice, but to claim her without even telling her what it meant. Which was its own special kind of hell.

  What was he going to do?

  He had no idea.

  ***

  Rogue woke up in the dark room, listening to the quiet of the house. The guys weren’t even watching TV. She didn’t have any idea how long she had slept, but it had been a few hours. She felt rested, ready for more Mac. She stretched, unfurling on the bed, rubbing her limbs against the soft sheets.

  She stood, pulled on some clothes, and went out in the kitchen to find her male.

  He was standing by the sink, his head down, staring at the floor like he was thinking.

  “Hey,” she said, getting close to him. He lifted his head and snaked his arms around her waist, his mood heavy. She could fix that.

  He kissed her lightly. “Hungry? We were going to order sandwiches.”

  She snuggled up next to him. “I’d rather have a Mac-sicle.” She licked her lips, catching his eyes. They’d had rough, clawing sex half a dozen times, and she still hadn’t put her mouth on that cock. She was half-starved for it.

  He groaned and his fingers tightened on her back but something was still off about him. She’d fix that, make him right as rain. She pulled away from him, then lead him into the bedroom.

  Chapter 41

  This time, Rogue closed the door behind them and pushed Mac down on the bed. “Clothes off,” she demanded and he hurried to comply, the worry line between his eyebrows standing out in stark relief. She shed her own clothes and sat next to him on the bed for a moment, running her fingers over his forehead. “What’s up?” she murmured.

  “Nothing,” he said, his face relaxing. He smiled at her. “Just thinking how beautiful you are.” He winced slightly when he said it and she frowned, getting up off the bed, hands on her hips.

  “Are you lying to me?” she said, her voice harsh. “Cuz you suck at it.”

  He scrambled to his feet, and even though he was still off, his cock was at full attention. It couldn’t lie.

  He pulled her in close. “Shit, Roe, I’m sorry. There’s just a lot going on. I’m glad you’re with me and I’m sorry if I seem distracted.” He seemed about to say one more thing, but then he closed his mouth with a snap. His erection was between them, pushing at her.

  She grabbed it. “You better not lie to me.”

  “No, I wouldn’t.” He sounded sufficiently miserable.

  She twisted. “Because I’m not a sure thing, you know. You might think I’m your mate, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stick around if you turn into an ass.”

  He groaned, his head dropping onto her shoulder, his hips bucking forward. “I know, Roe, I know. Shit, I know that.”

  “Good.” She pushed him up against the wall, then dropped to her knees. Her turn to have a little toy to play with. Not that it was little. She ran her hand over his erection, loving how big it was, how it had turned dark and hard from so much blood pooling there. She ran her hands over it lightly, licking her lips as just a bit of pre-cum leaked from the tip. She darted in, quick as a cat and licked it off, then looked up at her guy. His expression was intense, feral, as sexy as she’d ever seen it.

  “Fuck, that’s hot,” he breathed.

  She took him in her mouth and grinned up at him. Probably not hot, but he would still think it was. He was putty. Pudding. If she said jump, he’d do it without hesitation, and she liked that, liked pushing him to see where his limit was, and what he would do to her when she found it, caressed it, stuck a toe over it. God, he was fun, and she was falling for him, but she was almost ok with it.

  For now, though-she turned her attention back to her lollipop, her plaything, tickling him, sucking at him, grabbing his balls and pulling at them until he let out a roar and jerked in her mouth. That made her smile again and it was hard to suck dick when you were smiling. Concentrate, woman.

  Back to the matter at hand. Stroke, suck, enjoy his moans and the way his fingers tightened in her hair. He began to jerk forward like he was fucking her mouth and she held still and let him, relaxing her throat, watching him through her lashes, her eyes following the hard planes of his abs, the rounded muscles of his pecs. She curled her fingers around his thighs as he fucked her mouth with abandon, his face tight with pleasure.

  But then he pulled out of her, grabbing her under the arm and slamming her on the bed. She was about to protest, but his fingers curled into her hair and pulled, and his cock rammed home, all the way up inside her, making her moan instead.

  He pushed her head to the side and got up close to her ear, kissing the shell of it before he whispered to her. “I love you,” he said, and before she could even think about those three words, he growled fiercely, the sound splitting the room and then he was on her, biting her neck until she knew she was bleeding, his teeth slicing through skin and muscle, clamping down on her, holding her in place while he fucked her and growled, growled and fucked her.

  Rogue screamed as an orgasm the size of the planet slammed into her, making her forget herself, Mac, everything she ever was or would be. She was nothing but pleasure, rolling through space, a throbbing collection of nerves that all fired together, sending wave after wave of bliss into existence until she thought she would die and she was perfectly ok with this being her last moment.

  The pleasure eased enough to let her realize she was up in the air, head brushing Mac’s ceiling, the two of them in a cocoon of… some sort of wings?

  Energetic wings that had erupted from her own back, wrapped around the two of them, connecting them as a unit in a way she couldn’t deny, in a way that felt totally right to her.

  They were deposited back onto the bed and her wings disappeared, not even pulling into her body, but just poof, gone. Her mate disengaged himself from her neck, even as his cock continued to pulse inside her. She relaxed, feeling the need for nothing more pressing than to get as close to her mate as possible, feel her skin against his, hold onto him and keep him close forever.

  She drifted off to sleep again, safe and warm in his arms, not even bothering to ask him what he’d done. Because she knew, didn’t she?

  He’d made her his.

  Forever.

  Chapter 42

  Rogue’s eyes popped open in the dark, quiet room. She moved slightly, causing Mac, who had both an arm and a leg draped over her, to murmur in his sleep. She held still for just a moment, then eased out from under him, replacing her body with a pillow.

  She stood next to the bed and stared at him, frowning and rubbing her shoulder where he’d bitten her.

  I should leave him, she thought purposely. Now, while he’s sleeping.

  No resistance. Hm.

  She pulled on her clothes, her boots, her knives in their holsters, and the flat pack around her waist. Nothing stopped her, not even her own mind. She opened the door and crept down the hallway, finding Bruin on the couch, sleeping sitting up, his head straight back, his closed eyes facing the ceiling, his mouth open and snoring. Lovely.

  But the couch was still away from the door. She walked softly past the couch, undid the locks on the door, and pulled it open, stepping onto the porch and staring at the night beyond.

  The feel of the night told her it was early morning, just before dawn and a glance at her phone told her she was right. It was cold, but not unbearably so. A lone bird chirped somewhere in the distance as if to say, “Is it time to get up yet?�
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  Rogue stood on Mac’s porch and stared out over his neighborhood, testing her resolve. She even took a step down off his porch, before she stopped, one hand resting lightly on the railing, the other one rubbing the spot where he’d bitten her. The skin there was healed, uneven under her fingers, but flaky with her own dried blood. It had happened.

  She could leave. Whatever he’d done the night before, it hadn’t stolen herself from her. She still had her will and her mind and if she decided to go, she could go.

  She curled her fingers around the cold railing and considered. Did she want to go?

  No. She didn’t. She wanted to be with Mac. At least for now. She wanted to change. Be a different person. See where this connection with him would take her. She’d been raised a criminal, and she was good at it, maybe the best, but that didn’t mean that was the only thing she would be good at. Maybe she could be good at being someone’s mate. Someone’s sister. Someone’s mother.

  Tears stung at her eyelids and she blinked them back. Really? Mother? Shit. Maybe. She didn’t have to decide right now, but, yeah, it could be on the table someday. Especially with Mac. She could see it. Adorable smart-mouth smart-ass kids who got into trouble all day long, but adored their mother as much as their father did. Shit. She’d never seen that one coming. Maybe he had scrambled her brain after all. But that could have been the sex, not the bite.

  Whatever. She turned around and made her way back up the one step she’d gone down, then put her hand on the doorknob, when a fiery smell filled her nose and eyes landed on her from right behind her. She bobbed and ducked at the same time but whoever it was had anticipated that, grabbing her from behind, twisting her arm one way and her hand the other, as a ton of weight came down on her wrist. It snapped and she tried to cry out, tried to call for Mac, but a hand clapped to her mouth.

  And she disappeared.

  Chapter 43

  Mac blinked in the darkness, wondering what had woken him. He smiled and reached out in the bed for his mate. She hadn’t yelled at him or rejected him after he’d claimed her. The act had been like a drug for both of them, curling them together, him whispering to her and her making soft noises of acceptance and, dare-he-think-it, love, while he had run his fingers through her hair until she fell asleep, and then he’d let himself drift off.