The Vulfan's Dark Desires (Starcrossed Dating Agency Book 3)

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The Vulfan's Dark Desires (Starcrossed Dating Agency Book 3) Page 6

by Georgette St. Clair


  Violet didn’t know whether the swift pain in her heart was for him, or for herself.

  Chapter Seven

  Treffon saw Violet’s face go pale. She blinked back tears at the sadness of it. In anyone else, he would have been annoyed by such weakness, but in her, oddly, he found it made him like her even more. And it made him trust her with his secret – the secret he’d kept inside for years.

  “I’m so sorry. How did it happen?”

  “I do not know. I never met her,” he admitted.

  She looked at him in confusion. “Are you making fun of me again?”

  “I was never making fun of you in the first place, I promise you. As for my true mate…I felt her presence for many years. This is not unusual for a Vulfan, and especially for a Reginar…we have strong psychic abilities. I felt as if she needed me, as if she was waiting for me. I searched everywhere for her, but I never found her.” The shame of it stabbed at him like a hot poker.

  “Oh. I am very, very sorry. But how do you know she’s dead?”

  “I cannot feel her anymore. Bit by bit, the connection that I felt to her faded until it was gone completely.” He scowled. “Nobody else knows of this.”

  “I would never tell anyone,” she assured him.

  “I know.” He meant it, too. He had a feeling he could trust her completely. Then he glanced over at Dorcas and the pack of Eeplings. “We will leave now,” he said. “If you want to bring that oldling with us, then you must fetch her at once. Otherwise I will pick you up and take you to my ship right now.”

  “And he’s back to being a dick again,” she said, addressing the heavens. She looked him in the eye. He liked how bold she was, how fierce. Few Vulfans dared challenge him.

  “I’m not leaving the Eeplings,” she informed him. “And you can’t kidnap me. You have no legal right to take me.”

  He laughed at that. “On Ilyria? I am the law.”

  “If you take me away from the Eeplings before we can get them back home, I will keep running away,” she threatened. “You can’t watch me all the time. I’m sneakier than you think.”

  He felt a surge of frustration. Perhaps her feisty nature was not so admirable after all. “I am trying to protect you, foolish human!”

  “I didn’t ask for your protection, and I can’t leave a bunch of helpless children alone in this dump.” She gestured at the camp.

  Two huge, bull-like aliens with tusks curving from their massive lower jaws were circling each other. One charged, his head down, and they collided with a heavy smack, then began grappling. A meandering queue for rations curved around the fight, some of the aliens waiting patiently while others cheered on the brawling creatures. Far from stepping in, one of the guards seemed to be taking bets on who would win.

  Several tiny, birdlike aliens fled chattering in terror from the lazy, loping pursuit of a humanoid half-shifted into a big, spotted cat. A female, clutching a ragged pair of trousers, gave chase, spitting feline curses at her wayward mate.

  Treffon considered. She was a stubborn one, all right. And he suspected that if he simply used brute force on her, it would somehow not end well. He did not want her to hate him. He had no idea why he felt that way, but he did.

  “I will make you an offer. If you agree to stay with me and let me guard you, I will let you bring the Eeplings with us. I will find a way to contact their families, if their families are still alive, and I will ensure safe passage for them. While we wait, I will enroll them in our school.”

  “Couldn’t they travel by transporter?” she asked.

  “There needs to be a functioning transporter on the other end. For security reasons, there are no transport trips going to any areas that are currently harboring cyborgs.”

  She stared up at him, frowning. Finally she heaved a sigh, which made her chest rise and fall in a most tantalizing fashion. “I’ll do it,” she agreed reluctantly.

  She looked around at the camp again. “This place is a disaster. Those big horned beasts keep stealing food from the weaker aliens. Fights breaking out all over. Can you do anything about it before we leave?”

  She stifled a yawn. It was getting late.

  He nodded. “I do not like to see such disorder anywhere on Ilyria. When I left this place a week ago, everything was running smoothly. I will find out what went wrong. Stay with your oldling and remain where I can see you until I have taken care of this.”

  Violet shot him an annoyed look. “Have you heard of the word please?”

  He answered her with a look of puzzlement. “A word that weaklings use in an attempt to get their way?”

  She snorted. “I’m glad I’m not your true mate, because you’re rude, and you’re mean.” And she turned and stalked off, heading for the old woman who was playing with the Eeplings.

  He yelled after her, “And I am glad you are not my true mate, because…because…” he couldn’t find a reason. “Because!” he finished angrily, and stomped off to find the Chief Peacemaker.

  The Peacemaker winced when he saw Treffon.

  “This is unacceptable,” Treffon informed him. “There were no fights when we were here last week; the situation has deteriorated, and I will not tolerate it. We will donate housing structures to keep the different groups separate so they are less likely to clash.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Do they have enough food?”

  “They have plenty of food. We serve meals three times a day, and they can eat as much as they want.” The guard sounded aggrieved.

  “What are you doing to keep these people busy?”

  “Well, we…we were playing holovids for them in the main hall, but they kept getting into fights with each other, so we stopped offering the holovids. As a punishment.” The guard scowled and looked away. “It’s not our fault the cyborgs are poisoning their solar system.”

  “Right. Well done.” Treffon’s tone was laden with sarcasm. He glanced at the overflowing trash that had been tossed all over the camp. Then he marched over to a table, climbed onto it, and bellowed, “Attention!” At the same time, he sent out a blast of mild anger – not enough to cause them pain, but enough to make them take notice.

  The chatter and caterwauling ceased instantly.

  “The next time I witness an assault or a crime against another person, there will be no detention hut. I will end you right on the spot. Understood?”

  There were murmurs of assent.

  “I can’t hear you! I expect a yes, sir!”

  “Yes, sir!” came from all corners of the camp.

  “Now. I am sure you do not wish to live in a garbage dump. We will begin cleanup immediately. Come forward so I can start organizing cleaning crews.”

  He quickly formed ten cleaning crews and assigned captains. He had the guard turn off the communications damper, and called Tristao to tell him to send ten guards and to request the same of the Wor-Lans.

  Then he glanced over at Violet, and saw the way she was looking at him. Her earlier look of annoyance had been replaced by one of approval.

  He felt a swelling of happiness deep within him. It made him feel warm all over.

  The glow of happiness was replaced just as quickly by a dark cloud of gloom. He would find out who was trying to kill her, and he would kill them, and then she would be safe again.

  And then she would leave.

  And find “the one”, as she put it. And she would have a wedding or pair-bond ceremony, depending on who she found. And he would go to the ceremony and kill the man who’d dared lay his hands on—

  No!

  He quickly banished the mental image of himself bashing in the head of some quailing male. Where had that thought come from? Of course he would not do that. He could not deny Violet her happiness.

  He deliberately avoided meeting her gaze, and walked over to the opposite end of the compound. He was a master at denying his feelings, his true desires. Being close to Violet felt too right and good. He would not allow himself to get used to it.

>   He nodded his approval at a skinny stalk-like alien who was picking up trash.

  “Well done,” he said to it, and the alien responded with a trill of happiness.

  “Treffon?”

  He started. He hadn’t noticed Violet walking up behind him. What was wrong with him? He’d been concentrating so hard on not paying attention to her, on not wanting her, that he had let his guard down.

  He had never, ever, not even as a cub, let his guard down like that. He hadn’t dared. His father had sent assassins to test his readiness, to ensure that he was ever vigilant. And if he had failed to detect, evade and kill them, his father would have allowed them to kill Treffon. Treffon’s two older brothers had been killed that way – with the full support of Treffon’s mother. Treffon’s father never tired of reminding him of that.

  Treffon had wept when his first brother had died. His father had responded by breaking every bone in Treffon’s body and tossing his limp body into the middle of a forest to survive or die, he did not care which.

  That was the last time Treffon had cried.

  He wrenched his attention back to the present.

  “This is amazing,” Violet said. “You’re keeping them busy and giving them a sense of purpose and control over their situation. I can see the mood improving already.”

  “Yes, it is.” He tried to keep his voice gruff and unwelcoming, but it didn’t seem to work. She was smiling and exuding happiness – he could feel it streaming from her. It was making him want to smile too.

  He put his hand to his mouth. Was it some kind of contagious virus? Why did he always want to smile when she was near him?

  “You should stay with the oldling,” he told her.

  She stifled a laugh behind her hand. “The oldling’s name is Dorcas, and if she hears you call her an oldling, she’s liable to whack you with her cane.”

  “So she is related to you, then?”

  Violet giggled. “Did you just make a joke?”

  “I did not mean to.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “You know, you could actually be sweet and charming if you weren’t such an obnoxious, horrible jerk of a bully.”

  And she walked away, leaving Treffon scratching his head and trying to figure out if she had just insulted him or not.

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning…

  “These are some sweet digs, I will give him that,” Dorcas said, looking around the enormous room. Treffon had tried to get Violet to stay in his actual bedroom – claiming it was “safer” – and Violet had indignantly refused, so Treffon had put her and Dorcas in the room next to his. He lived in a suite of rooms on the ground floor of an enormous castle, where many of his extended family, including Zura, also lived. The castle grounds were surrounded by lush fields and rolling hills that stretched out for miles.

  The room held the biggest bed Violet had ever seen, and when she sank onto the silky coverings, it was as soft as a cloud. It beckoned thoughts of Treffon pressing her back onto it with his big body, pinning her wrists and taking her mouth with his. Fortunately, her daydreams were shattered by Dorcas bouncing up and down before jumping off the bed to go and prod at things she didn’t recognize and stick her fingers into what were probably, for all she knew, alien power sockets.

  The floor was laid with smooth flagstones scattered with soft, warm furs, but the contours of the walls and ceiling were sleek and glossy. The light was cast by an invisible source, and glowed off highly polished twists of black-and-red wood. It was a bewildering combination of primitive and futuristic. Allison had come by to visit and to take charge of the Eeplings, since she was a grade school teacher.

  “Yes, at least the accommodations are sweet. He’s not. What a jerk,” Violet said, sinking into a fur-draped chair.

  “You got that right,” Allison grumbled.

  The Eeplings were climbing all over the furniture. One of them snatched a dried flower bud from a bowl of potpourri and started chewing it.

  “Aggh! Spit that out!” Violet cried.

  “They’re okay,” Allison said. “I read up on them this morning when I heard I’d be taking care of them. Apparently they eat a lot of weird stuff, but they’re literally immune to poison.” She tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear, which was now pointy and tufted with fur, since she was pregnant with her mate’s cub.

  Dorcas pulled a pair of knitting needles from her purse. “I’m going to knit you a special baby cap with slits for the pointy ears to poke through,” she told Allison.

  Alison perked up. “Sweet! Can you make two pairs of matching booties?”

  “You got it.”

  Violet tried not to let herself imagine what it would be like to be expecting a baby – Treffon’s baby. To live forever in this magical place with the lilac skies and double moons, to wake up in Treffon’s muscular arms...

  “So you’re happy here?” she asked Allison.

  “I am incredibly happy with my pair-bond. He’s so hot. And did I mention that he has an enormous schlong?” Allison grinned wickedly.

  “Eek!” Violet smacked Allison on the arm. “There are children in the room!”

  “Children who do not speak or understand English,” Allison reminded her.

  “How enormous?” Dorcas wanted to know. She held up her knitting needles. “Longer, shorter?”

  “Well, good lord, definitely thicker,” Allison snorted.

  “Aunt Dorcas!” Violet glared at her. “That is very inappropriate!”

  “What?” Dorcas looked mildly embarrassed. “I’m old, not dead. Let me live vicariously.”

  “Anyway. So, Allison, you said you’re happy with your new guy. But are you happy here?” Violet persisted.

  “Nothing gets by you, does it? I’m mostly happy here, it’s just…” Allison sighed. “Treffon is very hard on everybody. I just wish the man I love – well, wolf-man I love – didn’t have to deal with his boss being a moody jerk. Not that Kroi would ever complain – he’s completely loyal,” she added quickly.

  “I know what you mean.” Violet nodded sympathetically. “I wish Treffon would take a chill pill too. Not that I’ll be here for that long, most likely, but it would make everyone’s life a lot easier.”

  “Did I mention that these are pretty sweet accommodations? And we have robot servants? I could get used to this.” Dorcas’ tone turned wistful.

  “Stop trying to pimp me out,” Violet grumbled. “Oh, hey, Zura!” Zura stood in the doorway, tall and regal, hair wound around her head in complicated braids.

  “She’s so much nicer than Treffon,” Allison murmured. “She’s still badass and she gets things done, but she isn’t a total jerk about it.”

  Zura inclined her head to them. “Treffon wishes to see you,” she said to Violet.

  “What if the feeling’s not mutual?” Violet muttered rebelliously, but she stood up with a sigh. She did want to see Treffon, or at least parts of her did – the parts below her bellybutton.

  “Remember the old saying. It’s just as easy to fall in love with a rich creep as a poor creep,” Dorcas said helpfully.

  “Nobody says that, and it doesn’t even make sense. Allison, the Eeplings are eating the pillows off that chair – could you maybe tell them to stop? Or not, whatever.”

  Violet followed Dorcas out of the room and through a maze of hallways until they reached what looked like a gym set up for sparring. There was a boxing ring, scarred and battered mannequins dangling from the ceiling, and mats on the floor.

  Treffon was there, stripped to the waist and violently punching a mannequin.

  Violet’s breath caught at the sight of him. She sent a ferocious command to her knees not to give way. Her suggestions to other body parts went unheeded as her nipples furled into painfully hard buds against the fabric of her shirt and a delicious ache started in her pussy and sent tingles of longing out along her nerve endings.

  Treffon glistened with sweat, his muscles moving smoothly under his caramel-colored skin with
each heavy blow. His biceps bunched and flexed as his big fists set the mannequin swinging. Violet’s eyes wandered from his broad, muscular chest, down over a sinfully toned stomach to the tantalizing peek of hair that trailed below the waistband of his leggings. She could see the thick, heavy outline of his cock nestled between his strong thighs, and she stifled a whimper at the thought of him hard and erect, pushing his way into her slick channel.

  Treffon spun on one foot, hitting the mannequin with a roundhouse kick so powerful that the chain holding the mannequin broke, and the dummy went flying across the room and skidded bonelessly into a corner. A robot voice emanated from the dummy, yelling, “Fatal blow!”

  Violet’s eyes lingered on the strong sweep of Treffon’s spine and the tight globes of his frankly magnificent ass. Her panties were soaking wet. When he turned back again, grinning, color flushed her cheeks as she wondered if he could tell.

  Treffon looked questioningly at Zura and Violet.

  “You asked me to come here?” Violet tried to sound casual, but her voice came out in a high-pitched squeak.

  “I did?” Treffon grabbed a folded towel from a shelf and blotted his forehead.

  She glanced at Zura in confusion. “Zura said…”

  Zura smiled. “Well, I may have misspoken a tiny bit, but I am sure that Treffon will approve. I thought that, since someone is trying to kill you, Treffon could teach you some basic self-defense moves,” she said.

  Treffon gave Zura an annoyed look. “And you told her that I asked to see her. Because you are trying to be a match-maker. So now you are a schemer? You are your father’s cub after all.”

  Zura clapped her hand to her chest as if mortally wounded. “Cousin, I would prefer that you would just stab me. It would pain me less. I am so very hurt that I must leave immediately so I may cry in private.” She turned her back and stalked off.

  “You have never shed a tear in your life,” Treffon called after her as she hurried out of the room, dry-eyed and smiling smugly to herself.

  “I’m sorry I interrupted you,” Violet said to Treffon. “I imagine you’re very busy. I’ll just go back to my room. If someone can help me find it.”

 

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