by Mina Carter
King's Wrath
Shifter Fight League
Mina Carter
New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
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About the Author
Copyright 2016 Mina Carter
Cover Art by Mina Carter
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
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Author's note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
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Chapter 1
She was everything he’d ever wanted, everything he’d ever dreamed of, and everything he’d told himself he didn’t deserve.
Lifting his glass to his lips, Logan took a swallow of the liquid within—whiskey by the way it burned down to his stomach—and watched the vision of loveliness on the other side of the crowded room.
Zara Hunter, his mate and soon to be wife, stood talking to Grigori Anastos, her face pleasant and interested as the old wereleopard waffled on about his grandkids. Logan hid his smile behind his glass as the man reached into his inside pocket and pulled out his wallet.
Yes, there it was, the photos were coming out. Like many in the room, he’d suffered through the same conversation a few times, so he knew the routine. But unlike a lot of the primped and preened trophy wives in the room, Zara didn’t brush the old man off as quickly as she could to seek out livelier company. Instead, she looked at the photos with every indication of delight, her features animated.
“Oh, she’s good,” Gage commented, coming up on Logan’s left side, a glass in his hand. “She’s got him eating out of her hand already. Next time we have to deal with issues from Grigori’s club, bring her along. It’ll be a walkover.”
“I think you’re right on the money there.” Logan nodded in agreement.
Grigori Anastos was a mean-ass, surly son of a bitch, but he ran a tight ship. His fighters were all top-notch, well trained and focused, but he didn’t let anyone into his operation, not even another wereleopard like Gage. His grandkids were his only weakness, one it looked like Zara had tapped into since, as he watched, the old man pulled out his cell, showing her more.
But Logan didn’t think she had any ulterior motive. Yes, she’d been born and bred into the cut-throat world of the fight clubs, but she wasn’t ruthless that way. She might try to hide it, but she wasn’t.
His expression hardened. She certainly wasn’t as ruthless as her father, James, who’d not only run off with money owed to Logan, but left Zara and her brother to take the fall. Then, if that wasn’t enough, he’d kidnapped Zara to give as a fight prize. Rage rolled through him as his fingers tightened on the glass in his hand. James Hunter had it coming, and Logan was just the lion to deliver karma’s retribution.
“Lighten up a little,” Gage murmured, as a startled little gasp brought Logan back to the present. A woman nearby scuttled away, a frightened look on her face. “You’ve got a face like thunder, and given your reputation, half this lot’ll think you plan to eat them for breakfast.”
“Oh, he can eat me all up for breakfast if he likes,” a throaty, feminine voice interrupted.
The two men turned to find a tall woman behind them. Dressed in skin-tight scarlet velvet with tawny hair pulled up into a tousled “just out of bed” kind of style, she oozed sex appeal. A quick breath in and a look at her eyes confirmed Logan’s suspicions. She was a lion—a born shifter and an alpha by the smell of it.
She moved in, her hand lingering on Logan’s arm. The invitation was obvious. Within, his lion grumbled in displeasure, wanting nothing more than to snap her hand off at the wrist. The only woman it wanted anywhere near them was their mate. Not this hussy. “Lunch, dinner and supper as well…”
His eyebrow shot up. “Not subtle, are you?”
He recognized her now. She was one of the fighters from the Black Orchid, on the south side of town. Normally they fielded wolves, but they’d managed to find a lioness from somewhere, and from what he’d seen of her in the ring, she was just as ruthless as he was.
Her gold eyes were warm. Amused. “Why bother with games when I know what I want?”
He had to give it to her, she was as bold as brass. Without a smile, he lifted her hand off his arm. “Nice try, sweet cheeks, but you might have heard, I’m off the market.”
She shrugged. “What’s that got to do with it? I’m talking about fucking, not happily ever afters. And you can’t tell me a lion like you is getting everything you need from a… ahhh….” She paused, as if picking her words delicately. “From a former human.”
She moved in closer, her voice lower, more intimate. “I know lion shifters, our needs and desires…”
Logan froze as she cozied up to him, his gaze like ice as he looked down at her.
“I think you missed the point where I said I was off the market, sweetheart.” His voice was hard and cold. “I’m happily mated to my…former human. Now I suggest you get your ears cleared out and assimilate that point. Understand me?”
Her eyes widened, fear seeping into her scent as she backed off quickly. “Yes, sir, perfectly. Sorry to have bothered you.”
With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd. Logan looked around to find Gage watching him.
“What? You think I should have fucked her?” His lip curled with distaste.
“Hell no!” Gage held his hands up, palms out in surrender. “I was just thinking how times had changed. A couple of months ago, you’d have been all over her like white on rice. Now look at you, all settled down and shit.”
Logan allowed a smile to curve his lips as he looked across the room again, searching for Zara in the crowd. He was all settled down, and it felt good. Very good.
He couldn’t find her at first. Grigori had found a new victim, one who looked way less pleased and interested than Zara had, but there was no sign of his little mate. A frown creasing his brow, he searched through the masses until he spotted her over by the buffet.
However, instead of making his frown ease, the sight of her made it deepen. She wasn’t alone. Standing next to her was a tall figure he recognized. Ethan, a werewolf with the Kingwood pack, stood by her side. And a little too close for Logan’s liking, his hand on the small of her back as he moved her gently inward to protect her from the crush of the crowd.
Jealously flared, tempered with possessiveness at the sight of another man touching what was his. However, almost as soon as h
e’d touched her, Ethan smiled and dropped his arm. Logan soothed his lion’s rumbles. The touch meant nothing, he told it and himself. Ethan was the league doctor, and Zara’s. He would be protective of his patient, of any of his patients. That was the point of being a doctor, wasn’t it? And besides, doctors weren’t allowed to have relationships with the people they treated.
Were they?
She was everything Zara wasn’t—tall, blonde, and, by the looks of her, a born lioness.
Zara Hunter watched from across the room as the woman in the red dress got all up close and personal with Logan. Her cat snarled but she shushed it mentally. She didn’t own Logan. They were mated, not married. Yet. And even if they were, he could talk to whoever he liked.
Talking was talking, her cat grumbled. That’s not talking. That’s eye-fucking.
She didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, turning away, she signaled one of the circulating waiters for something nonalcoholic. Like milk. Sure, thanks to her new inner cat, she could metabolize the alcohol before it harmed her baby, but there was no sense in taking any risks, was there? Besides, she’d found she couldn’t even stand the smell of the stuff at the moment, so… problem solved.
“Glad to see you’re loading up on the calcium,” a familiar, deep voice rumbled. She turned with a smile to find Ethan Kingwood behind her.
“Ethan, I didn’t realize you would be here tonight,” she greeted him with a smile and air kisses on each cheek, genuine pleasure to see the tall werewolf rolling through her. Her cat, usually grumpy about Ethan during their prenatal appointments, even chuffed in welcome. It was a huge step forward where the snarky feline was concerned.
“Things wrapped up quicker than I expected at the clinic, and with Alex off who knows where…” He flashed her a grin. “And you know what they say. When the cat’s away, the mice can play…”
She tried to smother her amusement and be the serious woman the king’s mate was supposed to be, but the edge of her grin broke through. “I doubt Mr. Kingwood often gets referred to as a ‘cat.’ Isn’t that an insult to his wolf or something?”
“Perks of being his cousin. I get to call him what I like.” Ethan winked, moving to shield her from the crush of the crowd for a moment before he stepped away.
She nodded her thanks and then looked at him keenly. “Any news on Johnson yet?”
Disappointment filled her when he shook his head. “Still no change. I spoke with Reilly, my guy with the reaper friend. Apparently she says it sounds like a reaper, but he should have been awake by now if he was.”
She wrinkled her nose. “So, in other words, they have no idea what’s going on either?”
“Seems not, no. Said to call back if no change by the weekend.”
“Hopefully he will be better,” she commented, taking a sip from her glass. A woman gave her the side-eye as she passed, obviously wondering what the hell Zara was doing here. And she had to admit, she stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the trophy wives and hangers-on packed into the room, but then she always had. It had been different when she’d been a club manager though.
She’d had a place and a purpose. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t been a born shifter, it didn’t matter that she wasn’t tall, leggy and blonde like the hussy that had been all over Logan a few minutes ago. All that mattered was she could manage a club and a stable of fighters. Sure, there had been the die-hards like Grigori, who considered a woman’s place to be barefoot and pregnant, but on the whole, the club scene had accepted her.
She looked down at her feet. Except now she was exactly where the die-hards preferred their women—pregnant, if not exactly barefoot—and she found she was struggling with where she belonged. Especially now she felt plump and positively dowdy. What the hell had Logan seen in her? Did he regret mating her…
Strong arms wrapped around her, and she fought down her squeak of surprise as her mate’s familiar scent filled the air.
“And how is the most beautiful woman in the room?” he asked, dropping a kiss on the top of her head before he turned her in his arms.
“I don’t know. Why don’t you go and ask her?” She couldn’t help the waspish reply, nodding toward the door the woman in red had headed through a few minutes ago. “She went that way.”
“And that is my cue to leave. Mr. Reese, a pleasure as always,” Ethan murmured and disappeared into the crush of the party as Logan frowned down at her.
“I’m looking at the most beautiful woman in the room,” he said firmly, a warm look in his eyes. “And I’ll challenge anyone who thinks differently to face me in the ring.”
His words melted her heart, easing some of her insecurity. Shaking her head, she sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m tired and my feet are killing me. I know it’s not an excuse but…”
“Shhh.” He placed a gentle finger over her lips. “It’s to be expected, what with junior on board. You’ve been so tense, perhaps you need a little relaxation…”
Chapter 2
“Relaxation, huh? Is that what we’re calling it these days?”
Despite herself, she couldn’t help the little smile as he walked her backward and out of the room. The noise and lights of the party were abruptly muted as he closed the door, shrouding them in semi-darkness of the storage closet. She shook her head. How the hell did he do that? Know where places like this were all the time?
He tried for a kiss but she evaded him. “Logan! Not in here… anyone could walk in.”
He moved, a shadow in the blackness, and pressed her up against the door. “They won’t. Trust me.”
Her breath caught in the back of her throat at the feel of him hard against her. Every inch of him was solid, carved in muscle, and it never failed to thrill her. He rocked his hips, his hard cock between them pressed against the softness of her belly.
“How do you do this to me?” he whispered, a hint of growl in his voice. “I only have to look at you, and I want you all over again. You’re like a fire in my blood, a craving I can’t quench.”
Before she could answer, his lips claimed hers. Hard and possessive, he kissed her like he wanted to crawl inside and claim her very soul. She whimpered, clinging to his shoulders as she surrendered to him. Within, her cat purred, rolling belly up for their mate.
Hussy, she told it and then moaned again as he broke the kiss to drag his lips across her jaw. He found the spot beneath her ear that made her catch her breath, holding her as her knees went suddenly weak. His tongue brushed her earlobe before he nipped it lightly. She sucked a quick breath in as fire tingled through her veins.
Big hands explored her figure, sliding over the slippery silk of her dress. It was a wrap-over style, with a deep neckline to make the most of her pregnancy-boosted boobs, and a long skirt.
“This, I like,” he murmured, kissing along her collarbone and then down. A shiver hit her when he dipped the tip of his tongue into the deep well of her cleavage. His fingers played with the tie at her waist.
“Yeah?” She dropped her head back against the door, her hands on his shoulders as he dropped soft kisses on the swell of her breasts above the neckline of her dress. “What do you like about it?”
“Easy access,” he whispered and tugged the tie.
The dress fell open, a shiver rolling through her as the cool air washed over her skin.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, leaning back a little to sweep an appreciative look down her body. She bit her lip as his hands cupped her breasts, tucking the cups out of the way under them with a deft gesture. Bending his head, he laved his tongue over one nipple and then the other, forcing a murmur from her lips at the sensation. One that became a small cry as he pulled one beaded tip into the warm cavern of his mouth and sucked.
She held him to her, hands buried in the short strands of his hair as he made a meal of her tits. But that wasn’t enough for him. Pushing her farther back against the door, he skimmed his free hand down her body, sliding his fingers under the satin of her panties. Need hit her hard and
fast, anticipation holding her in thrall as she shifted her hips and parted her thighs to give him the access he sought.
He surged upward, claiming her lips, and she gasped as he slid his fingers through her pussy lips. They were slick and wet, the evidence of her arousal coating his fingers instantly.
“Naughty little kitten,” he murmured against her lips. “You’re hot and wet already.” He moved and slid two fingers deep into her pussy. She gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head at the pleasure.
“Fuck, you’re still so tight,” he groaned, pumping his hand and fucking her with his fingers. At the end of each thrust, he scissored them, stretching and preparing her for his thick cock.
She moaned and writhed, riding his hand as the tension in her body rose higher and higher. Somehow, he always did this to her, drove her out of her mind until the only thing she could think of was him. Him and what he did to her, the need to have him filling her over and over driving any other thought out of her mind.
“Please,” she begged, her nails biting into the fine silk of his shirt where it stretched over his thick upper arms. “Fuck me… now.”
He purred, the sound thick and sexy in the close confines. “Who am I to refuse a lady, or an order like that?”
Moving, he dealt with his belt buckle quickly, the sound of the zipper loud in the darkness as he pulled her left knee up and over his hip. She shivered at the feel of his thick, wide cock pressing against the entrance to her body.
He thrust, filling her to the hilt with one hard, fast movement. She gasped, time freezing as her body fought to accept the sudden intrusion. She was stretched, filled to the limit, her pussy throbbing around the rigid length of his cock. The fit was so tight she felt the pulse in the underside, fluttering against the walls of her sheath.
