Rough Ride [The Exiled 3] (Siren Publishing: The Lynn Hagen ManLove Collection)

by Lynn Hagen

  A sickening sensation twisted his stomach. Renato was dealing with a high-ranking demon whose power seemed to bleed off the man. Xaphan even had his own personal hellhound. Renato knew that hounds worked for demons, but they did so begrudgingly. To have one as a personal pet meant Xaphan was a force to be reckoned with.

  Renato wasn’t sure how he would get out of this mess, but he needed to come up with something.

  First, he had to figure out where he was. They weren’t in the demon realm because the sun was shining past the thin pieces of wood crisscrossing the windows.

  Morgan scooted backward, and Xaphan hadn’t tried to stop him. Renato reached down and pulled Morgan to his feet before he shoved his zaterio behind him.

  How are we going to get out of this? Morgan’s question entered Renato’s mind. Renato had no clue whatsoever. Battling his way out of the room wasn’t going to work. Not with Xaphan, Morbius, and Alastair in their way.

  “If you know who I am”—Xaphan brushed a hand through his blond hair—“then you know my skills.”

  “You’re pretty good with matches,” Renato said with a shrug. “I have a Zippo if you need it.”

  Xaphan smirked again. “Cute, but it’s a bit more than matches or a lighter. I’m the demon who keeps the fires of hell burning. But I’m aiming much higher these days. You see Morgan here is the key to me taking over hell.”

  “This is all about a power move?” Renato asked incredulously. Morgan grabbed the back of his shirt, his fingers curling in until Renato felt the pinch of fingernails.

  “What do I have to do with that?” Morgan poked his head around Renato. “I’m only a half-hellhound.”

  “And the first of your kind.” Xaphan said it like it was the miracle of the century. His tone was bubbly, and that scared the hell out of Renato. Demons weren’t bubbly. They were ornery, cruel, and underhanded, but not happy. At least, not the ones who came from hell. The ones in the demon realm were different.

  “You have untapped powers that I plan to exploit for my own gain, boy. If you’ve mated that beast, then you should know what I’m talking about.” Xaphan turned to Renato and wiggled his brows. “Did you get a big boost of badass when you drank this blood?”

  Renato wasn’t going to admit to anything. He had felt the flow of power when he’d leapt off his bed. It was a rush like nothing he’d ever felt before. A high that had made Renato feel as if he could conquer the world. He could’ve done without the initial pain though. Just like the rush had been colossal, so had the pain. He was cool on Morgan’s jolt juice. The agony hadn’t been worth the high.

  When Morgan slid his hand into Renato’s, he squeezed it to let his zaterio know they would find a way out of this. How? Renato was still working on that.

  “Just think what will happen to my already formidable powers when I drain him dry.” Xaphan moved away from the window to fully face them. “Morgan might be a blended mutt, but with those powers flowing through his veins, he’ll make one hell of a meal.”

  Alastair snarled, as if agreeing with his master. Morbius just stood to one side, a shadow against the burnt wall, as if curiously watching the show. It was as if Xaphan had completely forgotten that Morbius was there. He hadn’t given the man a second thought since revealing his diabolical plan.

  “With your first shift,” Xaphan said, “the spell that kept you hidden from me weakened and I was finally able to lock onto you. No need to fret, though. Sophia’s betrayal is being dealt with even as we speak.”

  It took a second for Renato to remember who Sophia was. Nazaryth had told him that she was the one who had performed the spell when Morgan was born. He had absolutely no love for demons from hell, but she’d done Morgan a solid, and Renato felt kind of bad that she was being punished.

  “So you think draining my zaterio will make you powerful enough to overthrow Lucifer and rule hell?” Renato chuckled. “Boy, you are one delusional demon.”

  Fire shot from Xaphan’s hands. Renato twisted around and shoved Morgan out of the way as the flames scorched his back. He wasn’t quick enough to stifle the scream as his skin burned so badly that tears sprang to his eyes.

  “I’ll remove your tongue if you speak that way to me again,” Xaphan threatened.

  It felt as if someone was peeling Renato’s skin from his back with a blazing-hot knife. He dropped on all fours, sucking in a deep breath and trying to ride out the pain. When he spoke, his words came out in a hard pant. “You’re…gonna…pay for this.”

  Maybe taunting him isn’t the smartest thing, Morgan said mentally.

  And maybe I’m trying to protect you, Renato replied. I got this. Just stay out of his grasp.

  You’re insane!

  Renato struggled to his feet. He didn’t have the ability to heal with a shift or from drinking blood. He had to heal the old-fashioned way, and damn if that didn’t suck. Too bad he didn’t have his sword, but he’d embedded it into Alastair, and now it lay on the floor at Xaphan’s feet.

  You could drink my blood, Morgan offered.

  The last thing Renato needed was to writhe on the floor in pain while the enemy was only a few feet away. He might as well hand Morgan over to the demon. He sent a mental image to Morgan, letting his mate see what Renato thought would happen.

  Good point. So then how do we get out of this mess?

  I’m thinking.

  Think faster. Morgan glanced at Xaphan. He looks like he’s reeving up, and I’d rather not stick around for the finale.

  Renato glanced at Morbius. The hellhound didn’t look too happy. In fact, he looked downright pissed as he glared at Xaphan. Ah, so the hound hadn’t known the demon’s plan. Interesting.

  In the blink of an eye, Morbius vanished. Xaphan didn’t seem to notice as he petted Alastair on his large head. “Shall we begin?”

  “I can’t locate him,” Nazaryth said as he glanced around the street, the hellhounds they’d killed at his feet. “It’s as if both Renato and Morgan vanished off the face of the planet.”

  Renato was under Nazaryth’s command, and he should have sensed where the man was.

  Nikoli tapped Nazaryth’s arm as he tilted his chin upward toward the end of the street. “You seein’ what I’m seein’?”

  There had to be over a dozen hellhounds heading toward a large Victorian home. It looked abandoned and in desperate need of repair. The lawn was weed-choked, and the windows were boarded up. The hellhounds rushed to the backyard, and Nazaryth needed to find out what the hell was going on.

  “We follow them,” he said to Nikoli and Ruthless.

  “I’m all for a good fight, but I’m thinking we should call in more beasts,” Nikoli said. “No telling how many more hellhounds will show.”

  Nazaryth took a second to send Dog a text message and then tucked his phone away. He wasn’t sure if they should wait for backup or charge right in. The scream he heard coming from the house decided for him.

  Renato dove for his sword as Alastair charged him. He rolled and jumped to his feet, his weapon raised over his head. With one fell swoop, he drove the blade deep into the mutt’s side.

  “Stay away from me,” Morgan shouted as he ran around the room. “You’re not using me as your banana bag, asshole.”

  Renato fought to take Alastair down as he watched Xaphan shoot a long line of fire at Morgan. That bastard would die for that. Just as soon as Renato could get Alastair out of his way.

  “Enough!” Xaphan used both hands to deliver a fire any fireman would fear. The room went up in a blaze as the demon charged toward Morgan. “You will come with me, Morgan!”

  “Over my dead body.” Morgan ducked and ran toward Renato. They were trapped, Xaphan and Alastair blocking their escape. Renato backed away from Alastair and wrapped his body around Morgan as the flames licked up the walls and fanned across the ceiling. This was it. They were going to die.

  “I’m sorry I got you into this,” Morgan cried as he balled up in Renato’s arms.

  “It doesn’t
matter to me,” Renato said. “I found you, was able to hold you, and I claimed my chosen one. If I must die, I do it with a single regret and that’s the fact that I didn’t get more time with you.”

  The heat from the fire scorched Renato’s already burnt back, and the smell of his feathers burning made him tighten his body around Morgan. The fire snapped and crackled as it consumed more and more of the room.

  Renato had closed his eyes, ready to face his death, when hands grabbed him and Morgan and yanked them through the fire. Renato glanced around, barely able to see past the billowing smoke, but he made out at least half a dozen men fighting. There might have been more, but his eyes were burning and tears flowed steadily down his face from the heat.

  It was Nazaryth who was pulling him from the burning room. Nikoli had Morgan.

  “No, take Morgan and get him to safety,” Renato said as he wrung himself free. “I have to kill that demon, or he’ll just keep coming back for my zaterio.”

  “This house will burn down around you, Renato. You can get him another time,” Nazaryth argued.

  Xaphan appeared to Renato’s right. He walked through the flames, not a hair out of place and nothing on him scorched. He headed straight for Renato.

  “Go!” Renato shoved at Nazaryth before he raised his sword.

  Xaphan laughed. “You think that weapon will kill me?”

  Alastair howled. More than seven men were trying to take the hellhound down. Renato couldn’t tell who they were. When he scented the air, all he smelled was smoke and charred wood.

  He swung his sword, slashing a gash into Xaphan’s arm. Black blood oozed from the wound as the demon laughed once more. “Try harder, beast.”

  Renato swung again and again as the demon dodged his attacks. The man was fast, but Renato was determined. He raised his sword again when three men emerged from behind Xaphan.

  They grabbed the demon as one of them shouted, “Sever his head!”

  Renato sliced his blade and made the clean cut. The men who had held Xaphan disappeared, taking the body with them.

  Morbius emerged from the thick smoke, looking like the beast from hell that he was. “You win this time.”

  Wiping at his eyes, Renato noticed blood coating Morbius’s chest as he glared at Renato.

  “You went for help?” The revelation shocked him. He gripped the hilt of his sword tighter, tempted as hell to stab Morbius in his mark. But Renato was injured and barely standing on his own two feet. Taking that kind of risk just might cost him his life.

  “Xaphan likes to enslave hellhounds. Do you think we wanted him ruling hell?”

  Made sense to Renato. “This doesn’t make us friends, and I don’t owe you one.”

  “One day,” Morbius said. “One day I’ll come calling for that favor whether you want to agree to it or not.” And then the man was gone.

  Renato bolted from the room, coughing as the fire followed him out into the hallway. He made his way outside the house as the sound of fire trucks filled the air.

  Nazaryth grabbed Renato and pulled him into a waiting Hummer. Dog sat behind the wheel and took off down the street when everyone was inside.

  “Did you get him?” his commander asked.

  Renato grabbed Morgan and pulled his mate into his arms. He hugged him tightly, grateful that neither of them had perished in the fire. He blamed the heat of the blaze for the tears in his eyes. That was his story, and he was sticking to it.

  “He’s been dealt with,” Renato said.

  “Renato, you’re choking me.” Morgan pushed at him. Renato released his stranglehold but didn’t let Morgan go.

  “Sorry.” He nuzzled Morgan’s neck and then turned to Dog. “Can’t you go any faster?”

  Renato planned on claiming Morgan again. He’d nearly lost his zaterio for the second time, and his heart just couldn’t take it. If he had to, Renato would tie Morgan to his bed and never let the man go.

  As soon as they cleared Pride Pack Valley, Dog laid into the pedal, racing them home.

  They didn’t even make it out of the car. As soon as the other men headed inside, Renato yanked Morgan to him. They were parked in the hangar, the bay door closed, giving them all the privacy they needed. “If you ever scare me like that again, I’ll chain you to my bed for a thousand years.”

  Morgan laughed as he yanked his shirt over his head. “That’s not a threat, Renato.”

  When Morgan skimmed his hands down Renato’s back, Renato hissed.

  Morgan’s eyes widened. “I’m so sorry. I forgot about your wounds.” The man looked on the verge of tears as he tried to pull out of Renato’s grasp. “Maybe we should hold off on sex until you’re better. I can’t believe I forgot you were burned.”

  “I think both of us have gone through one hell of an ordeal,” Renato said. He brushed the hair away from Morgan’s eyes. “I’m the one who pulled you to me. Never apologize for wanting me, zaterio.”

  Morgan had nothing to be sorry about. It wouldn’t matter to him if his entire body were burned. Renato was having sex with Morgan.

  “Now get your damn pants off before I rip them off.” Renato eased out of his, holding back the grunt of pain.

  “You know this is insane, right? You should be upstairs getting some kind of healing ointment smeared all over your back, not down here trying to have sex,” Morgan argued, but the man had taken his pants off.

  “Mmm, I have some ointment I want to smear on you.”

  Morgan wrinkled his nose. “That’s just nasty.”

  Renato gave a soft chuckle. It felt good to laugh again. It felt good to have a reason to get up in the morning. His life had gone from gloomy and cold to warm and, well, not optimistic but close. But the one thing Renato loved the most about having his zaterio at his side was the fact that his heart had started beating again.

  He’d gone from being almost emotionless to having a barrage of feelings battering at him. But there was one feeling at the forefront, one emotion that made him feel as if he could conquer the world. Cupping Morgan’s handsome face, Renato smiled. “I love you, zaterio. Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed of saying that to you?”

  Morgan frowned. “Not many since we just met a few days ago.”

  Renato pressed their foreheads together and took a cleansing breath. “I’ve dreamt of saying those words to you since first finding out that I had a mate.”

  “Confession time?” Morgan asked and then said, “I think a part of me fell in love with that voice in my head. I tried to shut it up because I thought I was crazy, but now that I know it belongs to you, well, yeah, I’ve been in love with you for some time now myself.”

  Morgan melted against him. Their kiss was slow and drugging. Renato inhaled deep drafts of his zaterio’s scent, relishing the fact that Morgan was with him. He’d died a thousand deaths every morning he woke up alone, knowing his chosen one had perished. That was the one thing Renato was looking forward to—waking up next to liquid sunshine every morning because that was what Morgan was to him. Hope. Happiness. Love. All those things and so much more.

  Renato wrapped his hand around both of their straining cocks and slowly moved his hand up and down as he drowned in Morgan’s scent, his soft kiss, and the small moans escaping both of them.

  For too long Renato had had meaningless sex. To feel again, to enjoy the simple pleasure was a rush he thoroughly planned to savor for as long as possible—no matter how badly it hurt just to sit there with his back pressing into the seat.

  Morgan was straddled across his lap, his back bowing as his head lolled to the side. Renato nibbled along his neck, sucking at his Adam’s apple. He licked and sucked, his free hand squeezing Morgan’s soft ass.

  “This is gonna be a rough ride,” Renato said. “No lube in here.”

  Morgan snorted as he pulled back and looked Renato in the eyes. “My entire life has been a rough ride. I think I can handle whatever you throw my way.”

  “Damn, baby.” Renato chuckled. “Tough little n
umber, aren’t you?”

  “Not tough,” Morgan said. He glanced downward and then back at Renato. “I’m just a survivor. There’s nothing all that tough about me.”

  Releasing their shafts, Renato cupped Morgan’s jaw. “Nothing tough about you? You went up against Xaphan and Alastair and won, not to mention all those hellhounds who showed up.”

  “I didn’t do anything but run from that demon,” Morgan said with a slight whine. “How is that tough?”

  “Like you said, you survived.” Renato stuck three fingers into his mouth, wet them, and then pulled Morgan up. He slid his fingers around his mate’s hole before sinking them deep.

  Morgan gasped and then groaned, his fingers curling into Renato’s chest. “You don’t play fair.”

  “When it comes to you, I don’t play at all.” Renato stretched Morgan, twisting his fingers before pulling them free. He spat on his hand and used the spit to wet his cock. “Ready?”

  Holding his cock in place, Renato bit his lower lip as Morgan sank deep. The feel of having his mate riding him had Renato’s fangs extending. He wanted to bite, to drink from his mate as the two reconnected.

  “Do it,” Morgan said breathlessly. He tilted his head to the side as he pulled up and then sank back down.

  The guy was making it hard for Renato to think. He knew that drinking from Morgan would bring him pain, but it was as if he couldn’t stop himself. Some cosmic force made him sink his fangs into his mate and drink down deep drafts of Morgan’s blood.

  Instead of agony, the pain in his back eased until he didn’t feel anything at all. It no longer felt as if his back was on fire, and the rush that hit him had Renato pulling his fangs free, flipping the two of them over, and pressing Morgan into the seat.

  “Your back.”

  “Is healed,” Renato said. He drove his cock deep. Conversation was the last thing Renato wanted. He was too lost in his mate’s body, too lost in the pure pleasure coursing through his veins. Drinking from Morgan was like a drug, but being buried deep inside the man was an even better high.

  Morgan wrapped his legs around Renato, his arms stretched as he held on to the seats. His zaterio raised his ass higher as Renato punched forward.