Mandy M. Roth - Magic Under Fire (Over a Dozen Tales of Urban Fantasy)

by Unknown

  Werewolves chose brides based on their pack ranking. The alpha went first, then the beta, and so forth. A werewolf had the right to forfeit his choice if he found none of the brides to his liking. It was possible higher ranked werewolves would take a pass, allowing one of the lesser ranked to find a mate.

  The brides, however, didn’t get the same opportunity. We were the tributes. Though the pact ensured that we would be treated well and given all that we needed to create family and home within the pack, no one was guaranteed emotional connections.

  The Choosing was not about making love matches.

  It was about completing business transactions.

  But despite the coldness of such an exchange, more than one true mating had come from the Choosing.

  I did not, however, believe that would be my experience.

  I knew very well there was a difference between physical pleasures and soulful bonds. I couldn’t expect more from Grey than what the pact promised. Yet, I felt some regret that I would never have the opportunity to fall in love. It sounded like such a wonderful experience—certainly more pleasant than being mated and bred with a werewolf.

  “We are gathered tonight to honor the pact between the Shadow Pack and its protectorate, Bleed City.” Aunt Lila stood on a raised podium behind the werewolf grooms. Her voice projected easily throughout the theatre—yet another aspect that could be traced to Roman ingenuity. “As we have done since the time our saviors arrived and gave us shelter and sustenance, we offer our eldest daughters to the males of the Shadow Pack. We give you our greatest treasures in gratitude for your protection of our community.”

  Aunt Lila’s gaze landed on each and every one of the brides. “We thank you, daughters, for honoring the pact.” Aunt Lila lifted her arms, palms raised to the sky. “May the marital bonds created by this Choosing bring joy, understanding, and peace. May you all be blessed with children and with happy homes.”

  That was it. Ceremony over. I couldn’t quite comprehend the lack of pomp and circumstance, but it hardly mattered.

  Grey was already striding toward me. Before I had a chance to even say hello, he swept me into his arms and marched us off toward a side exit.

  I heard the raucous calls of the werewolves, the gasps and giggles of the other women, and the enthusiastic applause from the parents watching. Grey’s muscles tensed as if his wolf wanted to claw its way through his skin. Willing or not, my sweet, I will take you. The words he’d spoken hours earlier echoed in my mind. I clutched at his shoulders, unable to stop the quaking of my own body.

  I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect now, though I knew from stories that the werewolves wasted no time in fully claiming their mates. Below the stadium there were the mating dens—honeymoon suites, if you will.

  We entered a long hallway lit by torches, and at the end of it was a huge wooden door. It looked medieval—striped with iron and carved with symbols. When we arrived, the door was unlocked and opened about an inch. Grey kicked at it and it swung open fully, revealing a luxurious suite worthy of a five-star hotel.

  He deposited me onto the decadent four-poster bed, dressed in burnished golds and dark greens. A mountain of pillows piled against the headboard and the bedding was divinely soft.

  My nerves had begun to fray. I knew he could smell my fear, my anxiety. I saw nothing within his expression that would offer me comfort. Certainly not the hungry fire that burned in his gaze. Was it possible to quench that lust? To satisfy him completely?

  “Are we not supposed to talk?” I asked.

  “The words I want to say will bruise those delicate virgin ears.” He went to the door, shutting it firmly, and engaging the bolt. He returned to the bed, but did not join me. Instead, he stood there watching. Assessing. I saw his nostrils flare and knew he was drawing in my scent. He fisted his hands and his broad shoulders bunched.

  “Take off your shoes,” he said, his voice nearly a growl “And your dress.”

  I scooted to the edge of the bed and slipped off my flats. I stood up, my bare feet sinking into the thick carpet. “I need help with the zipper,” I said.

  “The only way I will remove that dress is to tear it off. I have no patience for zippers.”

  I realized then how much his control was costing him. The urge to mate in werewolves was stronger than any primal drive inherent in humans. It was a wonder more brides weren’t injured on their wedding nights if they had to contend with such beastly fierceness.

  All the same, I was here. With him. So, I could be a mewling scaredy-cat, or I could suck it up and find strength to endure. Besides, I didn’t really want the dress—it was just one more reminder about Carolyn, about her life becoming mine.

  And it was my life now. I owned it.

  “Fine,” I said. “You want to rip it off from the front or the back?”

  “What?”

  I met his shocked gaze, and even though my heart felt like it would burst and I couldn’t quite breathe, I said, “Take it.” I swallowed the knot in my throat. “Take me.”

  He grabbed the front of the dress with one hand and yanked it downward. His strength was unbelievable. The material tore like tissue paper and fell onto the floor.

  I wore a simple white lace bra and matching panties. “I’m sorry it’s not…fancy.”

  He bared his teeth. “I will buy you anything you want. I will dress you in clothes worthy of my mate. But now, I want you naked.”

  His gaze became heavy-lidded and his breathing harsh. He pointed at the bra. “Off.”

  I don’t think I’ve taken off a piece of clothing that fast before. I went ahead and shucked off the underwear, too. I mean, I knew where this was headed, and I couldn’t stop it anymore than I could stop a train barreling down the tracks.

  His big hands settled on my hips, and he dragged me against him. “Arabelle, you are the most beautiful, most desirable woman I have ever known.”

  He leaned down and kissed me in a way that shocked me to my toes. His tongue split the seam of my lips and then dared to tangle with mine in a way that mimicked the most primal of connections. He cupped my head, his fingers threading into my hair as his other arm tightened around me. Grey continued the sensual assault that electrified every one of my nerve endings.

  The hard length of his erection pressed against my stomach.

  Awash in sensations that felt like both anxiety and excitement, I went boneless. Grey scooped me up and tossed me onto the bed again. He quickly divested himself of his own clothing and came for me. Before I took my next breath, he was on top of me—his shaft nestled in the vee of my thighs. In his face, I could see the wolf. His eyes were changed and his expression animalistic.

  Rough. Greedy. Insistent.

  His words. His prophecy.

  My mind was overwhelmed by what was happening, but my body knew how to react. I felt wetness between my thighs—a secret soon discovered by Grey as he adjusted his position. His length pressed against my entrance—creating a foreign pressure, a strange ache, that made my whole body tense up.

  “You’re wet.” He gritted his teeth, sucking in gasping breaths. “I can’t…damn it. I will hurt you,” he said, his voice strained. “I don’t want to, Arabelle. But the first mating is a claiming. A domination. Do you understand?”

  I nodded.

  He closed his eyes briefly. “The next time, and every time after, you will know pleasure. I promise.”

  I could only stare at him. I didn’t know how to feel—glad he was honest? Fearful of what happened next? I understood the mechanics, of course. But with his manhood poised to penetrate me…oh, sweet merciful heavens. I started to shake.

  “Arabelle,” he whispered. “Sshh.”

  He planted his hands on either side of me and pressed close. “Hold on to me.”

  I latched onto his shoulders and shut my eyes as he drove his shaft into me, quick and hard and deep.

  I felt a burning sensation, felt something tear, give way to his penetration.

  He sh
uddered as he filled me completely.

  My eyes popped open. I gasped, my fingernails digging into his flesh.

  It hurt.

  “Wrap your legs around me.”

  I did as he demanded, clinging to him as he began to thrust.

  The sensations were uncomfortable, strange. I knew I could feel pleasure, that Grey could bring me to pleasure, because he’d done so during the scenting. But this … this was so different.

  My heart pounded and sweat beaded my skin.

  Grey buried his head into my neck, groaning as he stroked into me. His teeth nipped my collarbone and an electric shock zapped me to my core.

  Just I was getting used to the position, to the sure, deep thrusts of the alpha, he withdrew from me and sat up. As promised, he was animalistic—and a look at his face, which seemed more wolf than man was proof positive.

  He flipped me over, and my stomach spun as he grabbed my hips and positioned himself behind me. I resisted the urge to squirm away. Instead, I moved my legs further apart to accommodate him.

  “Good girl,” he said tightly. “Lift your ass.”

  I did.

  His fingers spread me open, and then his thick, hard length slid inside me once more. He stilled, sucking in harsh breaths.

  I pressed my face into the covers and grabbed onto the mangled bedspread.

  Grey gripped my hips…

  …and drove his shaft inside me over and over again.

  He growled, his fingers biting into my skin. I heard the wet slaps of his flesh against mine, and I tightened my grip on the sheets already twisted in my fists.

  All I could do was hold on…hold on…and let him take me.

  “Arabelle!” He seated himself deeply, crying out as he emptied his seed inside me.

  After a moment, he pulled out and gently rolled me over.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. I could see the sincerity in his eyes. I hadn’t expected—this tenderness, this caring, from a werewolf, from the alpha no less.

  My thighs ached and my womanhood throbbed with dull pain. I felt shaky. “Do you think we could wait a minute before we…um, continue?”

  “We’re mated. Our future couplings won’t be like that again.” His gaze traveled along my body. Even though we were both naked, and had performed the most intimate act two people could share, I felt a blush rise and heat my face.

  He smiled. “Look at me, Arabelle. Don’t be ashamed. You are mine. And I am yours.”

  Of course, I looked. I felt uncomfortable, but fascination outweighed my embarrassment. Grey was beautiful. He was so muscled, so grandly put together. His hair fell all the way to his buttocks, a glorious cape of shiny black. He took my breath away. His chest was lightly furred, and that hair arrowed down to his ridged stomach to…oh!

  “That was in me?” I asked. Honestly, I felt a little horrified.

  He laughed. “Yes, sweetheart. And it will be in you again. Often.”

  I swallowed heavily. His shaft was soft, but still huge, sprouting from a nest of black curls. I saw my virgin’s blood smeared across the darker skin of his penis.

  Grey grasped his member, lifting it, and pulled back. The skin retracted to reveal the mushroomed end of his manhood. “Werewolves do not circumcise their young—not like most American humans. We do not alter our bodies, except through exercise or training. We don’t ostracize those born different, either. You have the right to earn your ranking in the pack and you are not limited by gender, sexual orientation, or physical defects. You’re not limited by anything save your strength of mind and will.”

  “True equality.”

  “In a sense,” he said. “Ranking is important in the pack. It’s how we keep order.” He let go of his penis, and my gaze followed its descent as it settled, once again, against the tuft of silky hair. “Touch my cock.”

  Startled, I looked up at him.

  “It won’t bite.” He offered a toothsome smile. “Only I do that.”

  My hand ghosted across my collarbone where I still felt the sting of his earlier nip. Then I reached out and drew my fingertip along the soft skin of his shaft.

  His gaze went dark, hungry.

  I suddenly realized that my touch could invoke need, desire in Grey. So much of my life had not been within my control, but this, this I could claim. I slowly wrapped my fingers around his cock and lightly squeezed.

  “Arabelle.” My name was a rush of breath, of wanting. Something sparked in my belly. I knew now that Grey had spoken the truth about pleasure. He would show me. I would learn everything. I would do everything. To him. For him.

  He gently pried my fingers off his shaft. “We have all night,” he said. “We have our whole lives. Stay here.”

  He left the bed, crossing the room to a door that led into a bathroom. I heard running water, and Grey returned a moment later with a wet wash cloth. He efficiently wiped away the evidence our first mating—first on me, then on himself.

  He disposed of the cloth and came to stand next to the bed.

  “I meant what I said. You will know nothing but pleasure from our future matings.” He drew back the bedding. “Get under the covers, Arabelle.”

  Gratefully, I slid underneath the cool sheets, feeling only a little strange to be doing so while completely naked. Grey joined me and gathered me into his arms. I fit perfectly against his muscled side. It was so nice to be held…to feel almost cherished.

  “Arabelle?”

  I looked up at him, amazed once more by his harsh beauty. I’m married to this man. “Yes?”

  “I have a secret to tell you about werewolves.” He grasped my hand and held it against his rock-hard abs.

  “You can trust me,” I said.

  He smiled as he brushed a sweat-dampened lock from my forehead. “Okay. Here it is… We love to snuggle.”

  It took a second to process his words, and then I laughed. “Don’t worry,” I said as I felt him tighten our embrace, “I won’t tell a soul.”

  6

  I HAD DRIFTED INTO sleep … until the pounding on our den door startled me awake. I was still in Grey’s arms, and he was apparently awake. He kissed the top of my head.

  “I’ll be right back,” he murmured. “I just have to kill whoever that is.”

  I laughed, and then covered my mouth, startled at my carefree reaction. He grinned, seemingly pleased by my response to his gallows humor.

  He slipped out of the bed and strode to the door, completely naked. “What?” he yelled.

  “We have a problem.” The voice belonged to Neela. Why was she here? It seemed a little late to protest our marriage.

  I sat up, drawing the bedding around me to shield my nudity. Grey, however, didn’t seem to care that he was unclothed. He opened the door, and Neela marched inside, her expression grim. Her gaze found me—and she snarled. My heart leapt in my chest. Her face was transmogrifying, shifting from human to wolf in a way that was horror-movie-esque.

  “Neela!”

  The command in Grey’s voice was unmistakable. Neela whirled around. “I can smell that human bitch all over you.”

  Grey grabbed Neela by the hair and yanked her to the bed. He forced her to look at me. “Apologize to my mate.”

  For a moment, I thought Neela would refuse, that she would allow her hatred for me to override her common sense. Seeing Grey in full alpha mode was somewhat scary—and oddly thrilling.

  “My apologies,” she said in a sullen tone.

  Grey pulled her back. He twisted her hair tighter and brought her face within inches of his. “Never disrespect her again. If you do, it will be your last act as a member of the Shadow Pack.” His voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “If you’re not very, very careful, it may well be your last act on this earth.”

  Neela paled and dropped her gaze. Grey let her go, and she quickly put distance between them. Her fury had not dissipated if her tensed muscles and tightened jaw were any indication. But she kept her eyes cast down—submissive to the alpha.

  “What
do you want?”

  “One of my enforcers has been killed,” she said through clenched teeth. She withdrew an object from her front pocket and showed Grey.

  I instantly recognized my compact. I felt the blood drain out of my face. “Where did you get that?”

  “It was near the body.” She flashed her fangs at me. “It’s yours, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. I was on my way to the temple and I tripped. The compact was in my hand and I lost it.”

  “Convenient.”

  Grey blew out an impatient breath. “It’s not enough evidence, Neela.”

  “I have her blood on the cave wall. And we all know that she’s capable of killing a werewolf.” Neela turned toward me, triumph flashing in her gaze. “I’m here to impute Arabelle Burke for an unsanctioned kill.”

  Grey pinned my gaze, his eyes filled with worry—and suspicion.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “You’re being accused of murder, Arabelle. And pack law is clear about imputation.” He stepped back, hands fisted at his side, and allowed Neela to approach the bed.

  “Get up and get dressed,” she said. “You’re coming with me.”

  “What? Where?”

  “Prison.” She said the word with relish. “Where you will stay until your trial.”

  7

  “W OW, NEELA. THAT’S low. Even for you.” Colt sauntered into the den, followed by Aunt Lila. Colt’s expression was filled with disgust—the same emotion reflected in Aunt Lila’s face.

  I hadn’t yet moved from the bed, partly because there was no way I would bare my nude body to Neela and partly because I felt frozen to the spot. I was unnerved by her accusation and confused by Grey’s apparent acceptance of her imputation. This wasn’t an episode of Law & Order: Werewolf Victim Unit. I didn’t know my rights within the Shadow Pack. Although, I would’ve thought being the mate of the alpha gave me some purview.