Pack Violet Shadow (The Seven Mates of Zara Wolf Book 2)

by Stunich, C. M.

  Nic sat beside him, watching us, his expression confused but … excited, too. Like he was enjoying himself, even if he didn't want to. His hand moved up and down his shaft, faster and faster, like he was timing his own strokes with Montgomery's movements inside of me.

  Relaxing my head back into the pillows, I let Monty kiss and suck on my neck, his right hand moving to cup my breast, his body shuddering when he felt the heavy softness of it.

  “Alpha,” he groaned, and then he used his left hand to push my right thigh back, sliding just a bit deeper inside, grinding my clit with his pelvis. He moved us both to the verge of tears and then with a throaty groan, he released his come inside of me, shaking and shuttering. Surprisingly, he managed to keep moving for just a few seconds longer, long enough that my body began to flutter and pulse. “Zara Castille,” he murmured at the same moment he collapsed.

  I saw Nic's entire body go stiff, his hips bucking up toward the ceiling, his hand sliding down his shaft. He came hard as Che watched and Monty fell to the side, lying next to me and quivering, smelling like roses and earth. Outside the window, the wind swirled with the raw, natural sweetness of our magic, cracking the branches of trees, and starting up a cacophony of avian sounds.

  “Quick,” I said, and I didn't know who to go to. “I'm about to come.”

  Montgomery scooted close, put one of his legs over mine and dropped his fingers between my thighs, using his and Che's seed as lube to fuck me over the edge, bring me whimpering and growling and calling all their names … all of them.

  Every single one.

  And the three boys I'd just fucked? Well, they didn't look as surprised as I thought they'd be.

  Afterward, the four of us lay there, sweaty and smelling like wolf and sex, like our various packs, of shampoo and soap. We fell into dreamless, easy sleep, bodies intertwined, our wolves pleased with the sense of pack.

  Pack.

  My pack.

  Zara Wolf and her seven mates.

  In the morning, I got up and mixed myself some of the buttercup birth control formula that Nikolina had taught me about. The little yellow flowers smiled up at me, their petals shiny and bright, like sunshine. I felt almost bad about crushing them up with the mortar and pestle in the kitchen.

  “No pups until I'm at least fifty,” I said to myself, a statement that would probably weird a lot of humans out. Fifty was when some humans were becoming grandparents, not considering their first litter … er, child. But with our extended lifespans, werewolves were different. My mother hadn't had her first litter until she was fifty-six years old; Majka had been sixty-three when Nikolina and my aunts were born.

  I finished crushing the delicate little flowers and then transferred them to another bowl, one made of silver. It made my hands bleed when I touched it, but just the slight bit of silver that got into the mixture while stirring it up was enough that I didn't need to add more. A pinch of seeds from a jar marked Queen Anne's Lace—a white flower also known as wild carrot—and some of the water on the stove that I'd boiled with pennyroyal rounded out the mixture. Personally, I added honey to help with the taste but that part was optional.

  “We're all taking it, too, you know,” Jax said, surprising me. I hadn't heard him come down the stairs or even walk through the living room. I was too relaxed in this house. The old wards and our spot in the middle of pack land were making me lazy. I couldn't afford that.

  “The buttercup?” I asked as I picked up the silver bowl and carefully poured the hot liquid into a mug. Blood droplets sprinkled across the counter, but I didn't mind. If silver protected my magic from the witches, I'd have to get as comfortable with it as Nikolina and Majka were.

  “Did you know,” Jax began, padding toward the counter in bare feet and skirting the edge of the breakfast bar, “that if you hold a buttercup up to your chin and there's a yellow reflection, it means you like butter. No reflection and you're not a fan.”

  “I didn't know that,” I said, putting the silver bowl aside and washing my hands in the sink, my lips curving into a smile as I noticed Jax's white ears, and the furred fluff of his tail. Partial shifting wasn't uncommon, but it wasn't necessarily something I'd seen much of. Generally, it was saved for comfortable, familial situations. As the daughter of an alpha, I hadn't had many of those. But these boys … they both made me want to do a partial shift, and they also couldn't seem to resist doing it themselves. “And the buttercup?”

  “That was a yes,” Jax purred, wearing a pair of blue plaid pajama pants that matched his glorious eyes. Even with the pungent smell of my birth control drink tainting the air, I could still smell the bright citrusy scent of Azure Frost. It made my mouth water, but I wasn't sure if that was because I really wanted a fucking orange … or because I really wanted Jax. “Except maybe your Ebon Red bodyguard. The rest of us have been taking buttercup once every other week for months.”

  “Good to know,” I said, cringing a little as I lifted the mug to my lips and drank. The honey barely masked the acrid taste of the buttercups. To humans, this drink would be poison. To a werewolf, it was just downright fucking gross.

  My phone buzzed across the countertop and I grabbed it, the wolf and moon charms jangling as I looked at a text from Faith.

  soo, didn't hear from u yesterday. 2 busy w/ all those boyz? please rescue me. Owen is going out of town again & i'm scared he's gonna rob another store. have 2 work at the bookstore 2day but free later?

  Poor Faith.

  There was no way in hell I was going to get time to hang out today, not with the amount of shit on my to-do list. There was so much, I was starting to feel overwhelmed. And I wasn't like that, not me, Zara the White Wolf. I could anything. But this Contribution? Even with seven mates, it was a bit much. I wondered how the Convocation was faring on their end?

  I shot off a quick text, telling her that we'd for sure hang out next week but that I was too busy today. I'd barely hit send when I got a reply.

  y can't we do a girls' day out on Monday?

  “How do you tell your best friend you can't hang out on Monday because you'll be too busy trying to avoid a vampire-witch war from breaking out with your werewolf pack?”

  “I don't befriend humans,” Jax said, watching me drink the hot liquid with a crinkled expression on his face. “I only recently got a phone and only because my alphas wanted me to be competitive with the other heirs.” He paused and his tail wagged, a cautious little twitch that meant he was curious to see how I'd react. His right ear flicked back and he yawned, stretching his arms above his head and flashing me that gloriously muscular body of his.

  I was still sore from last night, but I couldn't stop myself from appreciating the view.

  Staring at Jax over the top of my mug, I sipped slowly and let our gazes connect with a small spark of electricity.

  “I do like my phone though,” he said, sliding it from his pajama pants pocket and tossing it onto the counter. “It's like a portal to another world.”

  “Do you really not mingle with humans at all?” I asked him carefully, remembering our previous conversation.

  “How often do you come in contact with humans and pay them little to no attention? Everyday at school? Every time you stop at a grocery store? Go to a movie?”

  “Who says I ever do any of those things?”

  He'd implied a certain distance from humanity, and Pack Azure Frost was known for being a little … behind the times so to speak, but it never hurt to ask.

  “Not much. That's not to say I've never been around humans, but it's a rare and special occasion. I don't care for wolves either, actually. It's just werewolves that I like.” He looked at me with that cold, quiet facial expression of his, and I just suddenly wanted to break it in half. I wanted to tear that mask to bits and see what was hiding underneath it, and I didn't want to wait.

  “Like?” I asked as I finished off the buttercup drink and put the mug aside. If I asked, my mother would have one of my sisters come and clean the house for
us, but I wasn't at all sure that I wanted them in my space. Not that I actually had the time to clean …

  “Okay, like might've been a strong word. Tolerate? I tolerate werewolves. I don't like humans or wolves. Or any other Numinous for that matter. Cats, though, I can say with confidence that I do like a soft pussy every now and again.”

  “If that was your attempt at innuendo,” I said, moving over to stand next to him, “then you suck at it. There was no subtlety there at all.”

  “Sorry, did you think I was trying to be subtle? I wasn't particularly interested in fucking … until now. Now, I'm intrigued.” Jax flashed a grin at me that was remarkably similar to the original ink drawing of the Cheshire Cat from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. “Last night, you put on quite the show. I think you woke up all my basic instincts.”

  “Is that so?” I asked, still standing strangely close to him. If I'd been in wolf form, I would've put my head over the back of his neck, a subtle display of dominance. As a human, that move was a little tricky … Still, I found myself leaning into him, mimicking the gesture as best I could. All it really did was put his lips at the side of my neck. “You seemed so anathema to kissing me during the Bonding Ritual …”

  “Mm, that was a public display. All of this private quiet and hot heat, the scent of mating … it makes me curious. It makes me wonder, what would it feel like if she invited me to mate? Would I like it? Would I make those same sounds as Montgomery? As Che and Nic? I could feel their pleasure rippling through the pack connection.”

  “So you do want an invitation?” I asked, closing my eyes as Jax put his lips to the side of my neck and kissed my throat. Slowly, so slowly that for a few seconds there, I really felt like I might be dreaming, he kissed his way up my throat and along my jaw to my lips. And then he kissed around them with slow, sensual flicks of his tongue, a gesture that was half-sexual and half-submissive. Human and wolf. Both. Neither. Werewolf.

  We have so much to do today, my mind warned me. We have to get Aeron and Harlem from Lana's house, take them to coffee with us, deal with the witch, hunt a deer, prepare for Monday. Because on Monday, Julian's response to my message was going to come in some form or another. Whether it was a non-answer that screamed war in all its echoing silence or something more sinister, it would come. And I'd have to figure out what to do with it.

  And yet … Jax smelled so good. That lemon-lime sweetness on his skin mixed with the distinct earthy scent of wolf. As I laid my hands on his tummy, I remembered last night and the crazy swirl of magic that had swept through the trees outside, all the cracking branches, the terrified scream of an owl. It'd been on and off, our newfound magic. Touching the boys could spark our power … or it might not. I just needed to be careful until I found a way to control it. I didn't want another explosion like the one that'd happened in Nic's bedroom that first night. The one in the river had been a blessing, but I didn't exactly want the two of us catapulted out the kitchen window right now …

  “An invitation,” Jax growled, and I swear, there was little to no human in that sound. “Yes.”

  Stepping back slightly, I ran my tongue over my lower lip.

  Jax watched me with eyes too blue to be human, too blue to be wolf. Werewolf eyes. The eyes of an Azure Frost prince.

  Slowly, I dropped to my knees and reached my fingers up, curling them under the waistband of his pajama pants. He just stood there, breathing hard, staring down at me with his lips slightly parted. I could see wolf teeth from here, gleaming sharp canines in the weak yellow sunshine. It lit the kitchen with beams of watery light as I pulled his pants down and out of my way.

  Last night, I'd been worshipped.

  This morning, I would experiment …

  Jaxson was already hard, the head of his shaft damp with pre-ejac. I started there, even though I knew it would kill him, rubbing my thumb ever so slightly against the head. He gasped and fell back into the counter, leaning on it for support.

  A snarl tore from his throat, but it wasn't an aggressive sound—that was his invitation to me.

  Sliding my thumb down the length of his shaft, I tickled his pelvis with my fingers and enjoyed the sharp inhale of breath, the way all those muscles contracted and expanded. With my other hand, I cupped his balls, teased the surprisingly soft skin, and let them sit on my palm.

  Jax didn't say a damn word. Maybe he was beyond words?

  I leaned in and put my lips to Jaxson's lower belly, kissing everything but his cock and balls, teasing him with my tongue and drawing little circles on his taut flesh. His breathing was so rhythmic and beautiful, the sound of sex in soliloquy. I could listen to it on repeat.

  He braced his hands on the cabinets behind him and just looked at me, watched me with dilated pupils and parted lips as I got closer and closer and closer …

  Sitting back, I wrapped the fingers of my right hand around his dick and squeezed just enough to make his hips buck toward my face. He couldn't help it; the movements were instinctu

  I licked my lips to wet them and then slowly, slowly, slowly put my mouth over the head of his shaft.

  Jax snarled, a violent, wild sound—much like Che had the previous night. But unlike Che, he seemed to have more control over himself, tilting his head back and focusing his eyes on the ceiling above us. What he couldn't control were the claws that exploded from his fingertips or the way he dug them into the countertop, panting heavily as I slid forward, taking more and more of him into my mouth.

  'I don't know if I can do this,' he warned me, unable to speak with human words and instead using the strange, mysterious magic that was wolfspeak. It wasn't English, not quite, just … sounds and feelings and ideas that somehow translated into meaning. I knew that no matter how hard I tried, I'd never be able to explain it to a stranger. It wasn't something that needed explaining; you either understood wolfspeak or you didn't.

  Wolf or non-wolf.

  'Zara,' he ground out, and even though his lips weren't moving, his jaw and neck were tight and his lips were pulled back from his teeth.

  I pushed forward, taking the entirety of his shaft into my throat. As a werewolf, I had a good gag reflex. All the better to eat you with, my dear. And in this case, that was a good thing for Jax. He whimpered, his tone changing from a wild, bestial mating sound to a plea.

  My lips slid back, freeing his wet shaft to the cool morning air. He tasted like he smelled, like citrus and earth, Pack Azure Frost and werewolf. My left hand teased his balls while my right stayed curled around the base of his cock, squeezing and pumping gently.

  'I can't do it,' he told me, panting and shaking all over. 'I need to stop.'

  “Why?” I asked aloud, looking up and meeting eyes the color of a winter sky, so beautifully irresistible, so wild and untamed. See, Che Nocturne came across as a beast made of shadows and darkness, of teeth and claws. Jaxson Kidd was wild and feral, a beast that belonged to no one and nothing, a wanderer.

  Until now.

  I wanted to be the one to tame him.

  “Because you're about to come?”

  “Because I'm about to grab you, push you down, and fuck you against the kitchen floor,” he said, stepping back from me, his shaft wet and erect, a bead of pre-cum pooling at the tip.

  “Who says that's a bad thing?” I asked, my heart thundering wildly. I needed this man between my thighs, needed to feel his wild pumping and know that the only harness he had on his free spirit … was my body, warm and hot and wrapping him completely.

  I sat back and pushed my pajama pants off, kicking them aside and spreading my legs, lifting my hands up for Jax's.

  He stared at me for a moment, nostrils flaring, but I knew he couldn't resist. The sight of me, the sweet smell of my arousal. God, I need to take a break from werewolves and hang out with Faith for a while after this … just to reclaim some of my humanity. I felt so wild in that moment, just as wild as Jaxson Kidd of Pack Azure Frost.

  Tail and ears and claws still visible, Jaxson knelt down and c
overed my body with his. Our lips met in a wild frenzy, the salty taste of him still teasing my mouth and tongue. My right hand found his tail and stroked it while the other teased his furry white and gray ear, rubbing it the way I'd been fantasizing about for a while.

  With a single thrust, he filled me and started fucking, taking some of that unexplained anger out, pounding my ass into the floor. He kept his eyes open, blue and feral and fierce, kissing me and nicking my lips with his sharp canines, mating me right there on the kitchen floor of the Pairing House.

  It didn't last long, but that's not what I expected from this. I just needed to lay my claim, and let him lay his, too. Sneaking a hand between us, I found my clit and worked myself hard and fast, bringing my body to a quivering, sweaty climax. I clamped down on Jax's cock, grabbed hold, and tore an orgasm from him.

  He was so wrapped up in the pleasure of the moment that he bit me hard on the shoulder, teeth sinking deep, drawing blood, the pain mixing with the pleasure and amplifying into this violent explosion inside my brain.

  Jax came too, buried deep inside of me, still biting and holding on while his body was wracked with the unfamiliar sensations of a woman's cunt.

  Afterward, he didn't move. He just lay on top of me, his lips resting next to the small pool of blood on my shoulder from his bite. When he lapped out with his tongue to clean the wound, tail wagging slightly, a gust of wind burst through the open kitchen window, violent and reeking of wet earth and evergreen trees.

  It crashed into the decorative shelves near the ceiling and knocked down stacks of dishes, a cookie jar, a porcelain wolf statue.

  Jax covered me with his body, tucking my head against his neck and holding me close until the wind slowed and the items stopped falling; he sat back and looked down at me with a brilliant ruby red cut on his forehead.

  My hands came up and touched either side of his face.

  “Zara,” he said, as I flicked my own tongue out and cleaned his wound, the sweet scent of earth settling over as the magic soothed and calmed. “Zara,” he said again, and this time, despite the feral angry fuck we'd just had, he sounded almost … affectionate.