Mating Brand (Mating Heat Book 3)

by Laurann Dohner

  “He won’t fight to the death over me. He won’t even search unless his father orders him to. He’d do a half-ass job because he won’t want me back. He’ll be relieved.”

  “I don’t believe that for a minute. Any male would do anything to find you and bring you home.”

  “It wasn’t a love match. We…” She hesitated. “I hated him. It became mutual. I couldn’t prevent mating him but I could control certain things. I sneaked pills to avoid ever getting pregnant or going into heat. He never guessed, just thought I was defective as a mate. After a year, he became really angry when I never conceived and he grew bitter.” She watched Brand’s face, hoping he wouldn’t judge her. “Part of the reason he chose me was because he thought I could give him litters of kids and make him a stronger leader when he takes over the pride. I failed to do that and it pissed him off.”

  Brand didn’t appear shocked or horrified by her admission. “I don’t blame you. Two people should have kids out of love, not duty.”

  She relaxed as the tension drained. “I never want any deception between us. I’ve had to lie for years but I would never do that to you, Brand. I love you too much. I’d never deceive you that way but I had to do it with him.”

  “He hated you?” Anger deepened his voice. “Why didn’t he set you free then? I’m guessing there was no bond formed? He could have just found a new mate without suffering emotionally.”

  “He wanted to but his father refused to allow it. He wants to stay in his father’s good graces by obeying orders, since he has younger brothers who could be chosen to take over the pride leadership instead when Percy steps down.”

  Anger narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like him already. Was he at least good to you?”

  She cautiously regarded him. “I don’t want you to get angry enough to go after him.”

  “Son of a bitch,” he snarled. “Did he call you names? Was he mean? I know some shifters look down on half-breeds.” His hands fisted at his sides. “Did he ever hurt you?”

  She hesitated. “You’re going to want me naked in that shower…that means you’ll see this.” She snagged her shirt and carefully removed it. It dropped to the floor and she lifted her arm.

  Rage had him sprouting hair, his eyes darkened and his claws shot out of his fingertips. Charma held still, knowing it wasn’t directed at her. She still trembled. He moved slowly, though, his hand gentle as he avoided touching her with the sharp points of his nails. He held her upper arm and turned it slightly to examine the dark bruises—marks from fingers encircling her arm just above where he touched. He snarled and his gaze lifted.

  “He did this to you?” His voice came out sounding gravelly, deep and harsh.

  “Yes. It happened last night. We live in separate parts of the house and rarely see each other. He sought me out in my room. I didn’t want him touching me so I fought. I got away but he was pretty angry.” She tugged out of his hold and reached up to grip her hair, pulling the long curtain of it away. She slowly turned, grateful that she couldn’t see his face when she presented him with her back. “This is the last of it.”

  The howl made her jump, the sound deafening inside the small bathroom, and every instinct urged her to flee. The smell of his rage nearly suffocated her as it filled the room but Charma held still, waiting for him to calm. She lowered her head in sadness.

  “I’m going to kill him,” Brand swore.

  He breathed hard, nearly panted, and Charma turned her head enough to catch a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. Four bruises marred her back from where she’d been punched as she’d struggled to get away from Garrett. They actually appeared to be a lot better than they had when she’d dressed earlier that morning before she’d left the house. Her shifter genes allowed her to heal quicker than a normal human.

  “Did he force you? Did that son of a bitch rape you? Did he allow other men to touch you? I want their names if that happened. I’ll track down all of them! I’ll kill each one! I’ll―!”

  “Calm down,” she ordered.

  She faced him. Any other werewolf looking that feral would have sent her bolting for her life. He’d totally lost his face—his nose pressed forward, lengthened, along with his jawbone, and his fangs elongated. His eyes had shifted too, narrowed. Wolf eyes watched her.

  Black hair covered his lower face and hid most of his sexy chest and arms. She took a step closer to him and brushed his soft pelt of fur with trembling hands. She pressed her face against him.

  “No one else touched me, not even him. He hasn’t for years; I was smart enough to avoid him. He found other females to occupy his time when he believed I wasn’t able to conceive. I’m okay, Brand. I promise you that, and he’s not worth it. Just hold me, okay?”

  His arms wrapped around her and she stood there inside his embrace for a long time, until warm skin returned and his breathing slowed. He kissed the top of her head before easing away. She wondered if he’d still want her, knowing she was emotionally damaged. Tenderness was reflected in his gaze when she braved looking up at him.

  “You never need to fear anyone again and I would never abuse you.”

  “I know.”

  “I’d rather die,” he whispered.

  “I know that too.”

  “Okay. I’m still going to kill that son of a bitch, but that’s another day.”

  She didn’t protest. A part of her had always known if Brand ever found out about what Garrett had done to her, even if he’d moved on and mated another woman, he’d have paid her mate a visit to make the abuse stop. It was just the kind of wonderful person he was. When they’d watched the news, he’d always grumbled that someone should take out violent jerks who picked on the weak.

  “I need to calm down a bit.” He took a deep breath. “Shower here and I’ll use the bathroom down the hall. We’ll meet in my room in about fifteen minutes.” He fled before she could protest and closed the door behind him.

  Charma watched him disappear and worry struck. Would he change his mind about wanting her? She wasn’t the same woman he’d once loved. She’d been mistreated by a mate and maybe he feared she’d take that out on him. Or worse, maybe he’d lost all respect for her because she’d allowed her life to become such a nightmare despite doing it for her family’s safety.

  She turned with a heavy heart, staring at Brand’s shower. She knew he wanted her to wash off as much of the scents from her old life as possible. Using his shampoo, conditioner and soap wouldn’t completely rid her of Garrett’s mark but it would make her smell more familiar to Brand, more like his.

  Chapter Four

  Brand stormed down the hallway and managed not to punch his fists through the walls. He saw red from the rage that pulsed through his entire body as if it were a living thing. He paused by the guest bath, took a deep breath and stepped inside to flip on the light. He managed not to slam the door behind him. He met his reflection in the mirror and winced at some of the hair he hadn’t been able to control when he’d returned to skin.

  Charma had been abused, hit. She was sickly thin. Her clothes had hidden the sight of her rib. She appeared half starved.

  He closed his eyes, careful not to pierce his bottom lip with his fangs when he bit down to muffle another howl of rage. The urge to shred the male who’d forced her mating nearly drove him into hunt mode.

  It had been difficult, picturing his Charma out in the world living without him. He’d imagined her many times—mated, with kids. It had tortured his soul. It had bothered him, thinking she might be happier with someone else, but he’d never considered that she’d been forced into a hellish nightmare of shifter politics. She’d been traded by her parents to the pride leader’s son. He understood their motives but it enraged him. He’d rather die than hand any child, even a grown one, over to someone to abuse.

  Do her parents know how she was treated?

  He shoved that thought back. He’d kill them himself if they had stood back and allowed it to happen. His rage continued to build. They ha
d to realize something was wrong. She’s lost so much damn weight. He forced his breathing to slow when he became agitated enough to pant.

  I can’t mate her right now.

  That thought made his wolf recoil in protest. She was too thin, too weakened, and probably too scared to have a male go at her the way he would if she were naked on his bed. He might accidentally hurt or frighten her. Neither was an option he was willing to risk.

  Most, if not all, of his resentment toward Charma for leaving him faded. She’d loved him but she’d also loved her family. He understood how far someone would go to protect blood. He hadn’t been blessed with siblings but his cousins might as well be his brothers. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for them. Charma had been put in a hellish situation and made a deal with the devil to keep her family safe.

  They gave my Charma to that prick.

  He wished she’d told him everything in the past. He would have moved heaven and hell to bring her entire family into Harris territory. He’d have probably upset her by tearing into her parents a bit over their eagerness to sacrifice her future for their own, but younger siblings were involved. He hated to admit it but he could see why they’d do it. It wasn’t something he agreed with but if she’d just been honest, he could have prevented them from making the choice they had.

  His uncle would have agreed to accept Charma’s family into the pack but his aunt would have gone on a rampage. He winced, remembering what she’d done to Anton’s mate. Aunt Eve was the entire reason a bunch of feline shifters were about to attack the pack. She’d put her own son’s mate in danger because she’d been desperate to be rid of a she-cat.

  He and his cousins had rescued Shannon from the fate Eve had tried to deal her. There was no telling what underhanded thing his aunt would have attempted to do to Charma and her family if he’d moved them into the territory. It no longer mattered though. Eve wasn’t a problem since she’d been banished from the pack, but in the past, she could have posed a deadly threat.

  Either way, they couldn’t change history. Charma was in his bathroom showering. He wanted to claim her but it wasn’t going to be easy or fast. The son of a bitch she’d been forced to submit to had done damage. She needed time to heal and get to know him again in order to feel totally safe in taking a new mate. His wolf didn’t agree, too eager to claim her. It was hard to control the urge since the animal was too close to the surface to be pushed back.

  “Goddamn heat,” he ground out.

  He’d never be able to keep totally in control of his body if she were naked in his arms. He was man enough to know his limitations and loved her enough to admit he posed a real danger to her in his condition. Males in heat weren’t known for their gentleness or their ability to contain the lust that overcame them during sex. She could take him in the past but he wasn’t so certain about now.

  He smiled at the memories of Charma from their time together. She’d been a tough little thing, aggressive as hell in heat, and she could give as good as she got. He’d never worried about crushing her or accidently snapping something. She’d had generous curves, meat on those bones, and the plushest ass he’d ever had the pleasure of pounding against when he’d taken her.

  His dick chose that moment to painfully throb as if it had a heartbeat. If it weren’t for the thick jeans, it would be pointing straight out. His balls began to ache and he groaned.

  “Goddamn it,” he hissed between still-clenched teeth. “I’m going to die.” He gazed at his reflection. “I’m never going to survive having her under my roof, smelling her and wanting her.”

  He kicked off his shoes, denting a cabinet in his haste to get the things off, and jerked open the front of his pants. He hadn’t bothered with underwear and his cock sprang free. It barely eased the pain as he shoved the material down his legs. He nearly tore off the glass shower door to get inside the stall. He turned on the cold water and it blasted his body, shocking chill taking his breath. He stood there, endured it, but it didn’t do a thing to his lower half.

  “Fuck.”

  He reached for the body wash, dumped a handful into his palm and leaned back against the wall. He fisted his shaft, turned his hips enough to avoid the water and squeezed his fingers around his swollen cock. His eyes closed as Charma’s image filled his head. He frantically moved his hand from the base of his dick to the head, applying enough pressure and pace to feel really good. He imagined he was inside her again.

  He braced his legs, threw back his head and sealed his lips. He’d never forget how damn tight Charma had been, how wet and hot. Her muscles squeezed him better than his fist ever could. Then there were the sounds she always made when he fucked her hard and fast.

  His Charma had always purred for him, urged him on, her legs wrapped tightly around his hips. She had a habit of raking her nails down his spine until she could grab his ass and pull his hips even tighter against her soft thighs. He’d feel her climax. She always screamed out his name, her pussy tightening around him as she trembled from her release…

  He groaned as he came. Streams of semen shot from the tip of his cock as pleasure gripped him. His hips bucked from the intensity and the pain disappeared.

  He panted, opened his eyes and stared at the tile wall opposite him that he’d just decorated. His hand eased off his cock—it had barely softened—and he turned into the water to wash off the soap. He dunked his head, shook it, and reached for the body wash again.

  Great. That will last me for a little while before it starts again. He scrubbed his body to wash away the dried sweat from fighting and reached up to grasp the removable showerhead. He rinsed away all traces of evidence that he’d jacked off inside the stall as he washed down the tile. He replaced the showerhead, turned off the water and pushed open the glass door.

  “I’m going to be in here every half hour, repeating this.” Disgust welled at his lack of control. He dried off, avoiding his cock, which still strained from the constant state of arousal he knew wouldn’t leave him until mating heat ended. All he could do was pray he’d find the strength to grab for soap instead of Charma.

  He realized he hadn’t remembered to bring a change of clothes. He wrapped the towel around his waist and quickly exited the bathroom. If he hurried, it would only take him a minute to slip down the hall, enter his room and get dressed before she finished her shower. The woman used to spend an eternity showering. He hoped that hadn’t changed.

  The bedroom was empty when he stepped inside but he didn’t hear water running in the other room. He darted to his dresser, opened the lower drawer and chose a pair of sweatpants. The bathroom door opened behind him and he jerked upright, turning.

  Charma had washed her hair. Pink skin shone from the warm water and she was wrapped in his favorite blue towel. The tops of her shoulders and her thighs were revealed. He knew she didn’t have anything on under it and his cock stiffened in response.

  He wanted her so bad it was difficult to remain still. He struggled with his choices—lunge at her or flee the room. She was just too tempting, too sexy. Images of all the things he wanted to do to her filled his mind and kept him from returning to the bathroom down the hall.

  She smiled and her gaze lowered to his towel. He couldn’t move, his legs seemingly rooted to the carpet. More blood flowed into the part of him that she stared at.

  Yeah, she’s looking at you. She can’t miss seeing you when you’re pointing right at her and lifting the damn towel. He reached down, pushed his cock against his thigh and kept his palm over it. Ouch. I know you don’t want to bend but we don’t want to scare her either.

  “You’re definitely bigger.”

  “Oh hell. Pretend you don’t notice.”

  Her gaze lifted as she stepped closer to him and his bed. “Why would I do that? Drop the towel. Let me see how much you’ve grown.”

  Panic seized Brand. “Don’t come near me.” She froze and he wanted to kick his own ass when he saw uncertainty on her features. “I’m sorry,” he got out. “You just
need to stay back.”

  “Why?” Pain flashed in her beautiful eyes. “Don’t you want me, Brand? Did you change your mind about mating me?”

  “No. I mean, I do. You have no idea how bad I want you…and to claim you as my mate.” He growled.

  “Then why can’t I approach you?”

  Honesty is best. Yeah. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you. My control is shaky and I think we should wait until I’m out of heat to do this. That will give you some time to put on some weight and heal up. It will also guarantee that I’ll be as gentle as possible when we seal the bond without causing you any injuries.”

  She stared at him, seemingly stunned.

  “I’m dangerous,” he whispered. “To you. Right now. I wouldn’t mean to be but I’d be too rough. I want you too much. My dick is in charge, and yeah, I want you. I would never forgive myself if I caused you pain but I know I will.”

  “I don’t believe that.” She glanced down his body. “You’re bigger and stronger but that doesn’t scare me.”

  “Charma?” He waited until she met his gaze. “Trust me. You’ve never seen me in heat.”

  “It can’t be worse than my heat when I was with you.”

  “It is.” He swallowed hard, his cock throbbing against his palm through the wet towel. “I’m more aggressive than you ever were at your worst. I need to go into the bathroom right now and you need to stay there. I’ll handle my own needs. I thought I would have more time in between but that was before I saw you in so little, looking so damn sexy. I have to handle this. Me. Shit!”

  He bolted around her and into the bathroom she’d just vacated, slamming the door between them.

  He locked the door. The Charma he knew would follow him. She’d always hated it when he walked away from a disagreement.

  The last time he’d done it flashed through his head and he spun, his hand bracing on the solid wood. What if she takes off again? What if I go out there and she’s fled?

  He nearly unlocked the door but fear kept him from doing that. He spun, his actions jerky as he yanked open the shower door and turned on the water. He’d be fast.