Monsters & Guardians

by Kay Elle Parker

  Raine was not in heat, was nowhere near ready for this.

  It was too late to stop it.

  Finn closed his eyes and prayed for forgiveness. Of all of them, Cabhan was the religious fanatic. Somewhere down this path they walked, he had discovered the Almighty and swore by all that was holy in his quest to be a better man, a worthy wolf. Personally, Finn thought their father had a lot to do with his brother’s religious mission, but who knew? Right now, Finn was more concerned with his own soul and the big black fucking mark he’d slapped on it.

  “Raine, get some rest.” He laid his hand on her forehead in reassurance before he folded the duvet over her chilled body. “I’ll try buy you some time but if I can’t, you won’t feel anything. Just close your eyes and rest, little one.”

  She blinked at him, eyes unfocused, and he knew the drugs were working. Her hand flopped weakly at him; he gathered it in his and wondered if she had the fortitude to do him physical damage while under the influence. It wouldn’t surprise him.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. A moment later, her eyes fluttered closed and her breathing evened into the slow, easy rhythm of sleep.

  Furious, Finn stomped out of the room.

  *

  Cabhan

  The door to Raine’s room slammed closed and footsteps thundered down the stairs. Oh dear, baby brother was not in a buoyant mood despite having just fucked a beautiful female in estrus. Finn was a moody and temperamental creature sometimes.

  Cabhan watched with interest as Finn stalked over to Quinn and jabbed him hard in the chest. Hard enough for Quinn’s eyes to narrow in warning. Would they add a brawl to the excitement of the day?

  “Did you fuck her dry, Quinn? Did you fuck her with only her blood for lube?”

  The room fell silent at Finn’s accusation, and Cabhan’s gleeful inner dialogue faded away. This was serious shit, the kind that not even a quick brawl could disperse. This shit was the sort of clusterfuck that disbanded a pack, turned brother against brother, and put bodies in the ground.

  Quinn looked miserable. “She wasn’t in heat. The wolf took over before I could stop it, and...I hurt her. Badly. I know I did.” He ground his teeth together. “She won’t let me near her again without damned good reason.”

  “Think that’ll go for all of us before the night’s through.” Calmer, Finn sighed heavily. “Raine is not in heat despite her scent. That much is clear. Estrus is in full swing. Her body hasn’t caught up yet.” Gray eyes shifted to meet Cabhan’s. “I gave her some pain relief, it’s pretty much knocked her out. Whatever you do to her, she won’t feel it. Believe me, that’s a blessing, Cabhan. For you and her.”

  “You want me to fuck an unconscious female?” he asked in astonishment.

  Quinn snapped, “It’s no different to fucking a conscious one who fights you every step of the way and screams as though you’ve stabbed her with a white-hot poker. Take the goddamn reprieve, Cabhan; you’re so concerned about your soul, you should be thankful she’s not staring through you with those haunted gray eyes.”

  Cabhan took in the state of Quinn’s face, the blood and bruises his big brother didn’t seem to notice, and the perfect set of teeth marks in his forearm. Then he looked to Finn, studied the gouges clawed into his face and neck.

  The little female had spirit, he mused, and a big set of brass balls to attack wolf shifters in rut—she could have made it so much worse for herself. He knew of shifters—not just wolves—who would have given her as good as she gave. A breeding female was supposed to be pliant, accepting, submissive when a male mounted her and provided what she needed to fulfil her purpose in life.

  The lingering scent of sex and estrus on his brothers’ skin did strange things to his head. His wolf was already primed to mate; being in close proximity to Raine built up the anticipation of a good fuck. To deny the wolf now would first incite a power battle between human and beast, which had the potential to spread out into the pack and cause carnage.

  The wolf wanted out, but Cabhan’s reservations held him back.

  Malachi spoke up, his voice tight. “If it’s too much to ask for you to rut her without her knowledge, I can go next, Cabhan. But one of us needs to go.”

  Cabhan glanced at Dubhlainn, who shook his head slowly.

  “I want her awake and aware when I fuck her,” he said darkly.

  “You are such a bastard,” Finn muttered. “She took you down, big deal, Dubh. She was defending herself, and in doing so, proved herself to be worthy as a mate if you ask me. How many mortal females could take a wolf to his knees—how many female wolves, for that matter? Let it go. Do you not think we’ve made her suffer enough with this clusterfuck?”

  Dubh scowled. “It’s not about that, Finn. I happen to agree with you. I like a connection when I mount a female, eye to eye so I can see her thoughts spin. Stoned out of her head? Neither me nor my wolf will get what we need from that.”

  Quinn sighed. “None of us will, Dubh. The estrus is strong, but if Raine isn’t in heat...I don’t understand the whole fucking process, but I’d guess if she isn’t in sync with the estrus and her heat, there ain’t gonna be a knot finding its way in that tight pussy this time around.”

  “What the hell’s the damn difference?” Cabhan wanted to know. “Thought they were one and the same.”

  “No, but they are close in principal.” Finn touched his fingers to his cheek and winced slightly. “From what I’ve been able to determine, estrus is the preparation of the female’s body ready for mating, conceiving and carrying offspring. Estrus occurs initially, followed by the heat when the body is primed.”

  “And the heat is what?” Malachi demanded.

  “Essentially? The mental equivalent of estrus. As far as I can figure out, from talking to several different wolves from different packs, the effect of the heat is chemical. A surge of hormones designed to make the female crave penetration, to encourage her to mate and procreate.”

  “It turns them into wanton sluts,” Dubhlainn said flatly. “I remember seeing Mother during one of her heats—I think it could be when she conceived you,” he said to Finn. “She became...insatiable. Almost feral with the need to be fucked. Rubbing against everything, any male she could find to relieve herself of the ache she kept moaning about. Rapturous moans. And when Fergus returned from wherever he’d been, he mounted her then and there in the great hall without a care for who watched. It went on for days.”

  Cabhan’s cock hardened further, the thick shaft feeling as though it could break the skin at any moment with every beat of his heart. “On that note, my cock is about to self-destruct.” He edged toward the stairs just as Malachi did the same.

  “We could share,” Mal suggested casually.

  “For God’s sake,” Dubhlainn muttered in disgust. “The lass isn’t a chew toy for you two to scrap over or pass around as the whim strikes you. We’ve fucked this up royally, and while the estrus has us bound to it, the least we can fucking do is show the lass some respect. Malachi, sit your ass down and wait. Cabhan, if you’re going upstairs, get your ass into gear.”

  “Who died and made you the goddamn Alpha?” Mal hissed, his lip curling.

  Not his brother’s usual temperament, Cabhan thought, and recognized the fierce craving in Malachi’s green eyes. His brother had the scent of Raine in his nose, and it was like nicotine—once the brain hooked onto the addiction, it was game over.

  Malachi was hooked on Raine, on the aroma of sex, estrus, and fear that combined into one heady draw of Raine-flavored nirvana. He was jonesing for it, for her, and Cabhan imagined the itch beneath Mal’s skin was akin to torture. An unreachable annoyance quickly escalating into physical discomfort, then mental anguish, before the wolf snapped and took what it wanted.

  “Malachi, go,” Cabhan ordered, meeting Dubh’s eyes straight on and pondering over the pride his brother acknowledged him with. “I can wait. Your wolf won’t let you for much longer.”

  With a sharp clap on Cabhan’s sho
ulder, Malachi almost ran toward the stairs, taking them two at a time in his haste to reach the prize at the top. The door slammed loudly and Cabhan winced, thinking if Raine had been asleep, she sure as hell wasn’t now.

  “So how do we fix this mess?” he said into the near-uncomfortable silence brewing between them all. “Raine isn’t going to forgive any of us for this. Not that we deserve forgiveness. We need her as our mate but is she any use to us if she can’t come into heat?”

  Finn growled in frustration. “There’s a difference between estrus scent and heat scent. Estrus is mellow like, I don’t know, vanilla. Heat is sweeter, has a tart edge to it like apple. Raine smells like both.”

  “She’s either in goddamn heat or she’s not!” Dubhlainn snapped impatiently.

  “Oh shut up, Dubh. Her body’s in estrus, that’s for certain. But her head either isn’t responding to the hormonal stimuli of the heat or she’s fighting it. That has to be the only explanation for it.”

  “She can’t fight nature.”

  “Why not? She’s fought us every step of the way so far, even when I was rutting her those first few thrusts.” Quinn swallowed hard, his mouth turning down at the corners. Cabhan wondered how heavy the weight on his soul felt now. “Most females would surrender. Mortal or wolf, they’d roll over and expose their bellies in submission. Raine seems intent on fighting us to the death.”

  “Maybe she’ll succeed. She’s fucking resourceful.”

  “Resourceful doesn’t mean capable of denying nature.” Shoving to his feet, unconcerned by his nakedness, Dubhlainn paced the floor. It must have been a kick in the teeth to claim something, especially as rare and precious as a virgin, Cabhan thought, and have to abdicate taking it in favor of a ‘gentler’ brother.

  Even more so when said ‘gentler’ brother fucked it up as much as he could without trying. Not that Quinn wasn’t torn up about it, far from it. His dark eyes were withdrawn, pained, and the set of his body language mirrored them.

  Finn dropped into the vacated chair still warm from Dubh and rested his head in his hands. Another perfect image of misery. “Maybe she’s not denying it. Maybe with all the pressure we’ve put on her, she’s repressing it.”

  “Repressing it? For fuck’s sake, Finn, there’s repressing shit and then there’s smothering it with chloroform, blindfolding it, gagging it, throwing a hood over its head and tossing it down a fucking well.” Quinn’s hands fisted, veins and cords in his neck beginning to pop. “I need to run. Anyone coming?”

  “Wait a few minutes.” Dubhlainn cracked his neck, gestured up the stairs. “Malachi won’t last long. You and Finn can take him with you. Get him out of my hair for a while.”

  “I don’t want to run,” Finn muttered.

  “Yeah, well, you need to. Between you and Quinn, you’re the mascots for guilt and self-loathing. Blow some steam off, clear your head, and when you get back, the wave of estrus should be over, right? The first estrus is the shortest?”

  “Not necessarily. It could be two, three days of this. We won’t know until we go back in that room a few hours after you walk out of it. For her sake, I hope so.”

  “Okay, we’ll deal with that how and when it comes. How long do we have between this estrus and the next to get things on an even keel again? Days, weeks, months?”

  Finn shrugged. “Consensus seems to be every three weeks or so. She won’t come into heat if she falls pregnant, but the odds of that are slim if we don’t tie with her.”

  “And the odds of tying with her are non-existent if she’s not in heat.”

  Round and around in circles they went. Cabhan rolled his eyes and wished they’d just take themselves off into the woods and run their emotions into the ground. His belly was tight with nerves, his body taut with the growing need to rut. Leaning quietly against the wall, waiting for his turn to climb the stairs, he listened to Finn, Dubhlainn and Quinn debate the best ways to woo Raine and get the pack into her good graces.

  In his opinion, nothing they came up with would cut through the armor she’d erected around her head, her heart. They’d breached her body but the rest of her was so far off-limits she might as well be in outer space and several galaxies away.

  After twenty minutes, footsteps came down the steps. Unsteady, staggering footfalls that stopped the conversation in its tracks.

  Malachi stumbled into the living quarters and collapsed into the nearest chair with a guttural moan. His green eyes were shuttered with agony when they pinned Cabhan. “Good call, brother. Good fucking call.”

  “What the hell happened?” Dubh demanded.

  Mal winced, cupped his hand gently over his now-flaccid cock, and gave a short, humorless laugh that ended on a squeak. “Let’s just say whatever Finn gave her wore off fast. Started coming to when the wolf tried to knot her, was begging me to stop while she was still half under.” Something dark flashed across his face before it wore the same self-deprecating expression as Quinn. “Took her a few minutes to gain her senses, then she kicked me in the damn balls as I pulled out.”

  Finn looked shocked, while Quinn shook his head and Cabhan tried desperately hard not to laugh at Mal’s expense. But the visual...the visual was too good to resist and he snorted before he could stop himself.

  Granted, Raine chose her moments with care.

  Still, he could see her waiting until Malachi withdrew then slamming her foot between his legs into his unsuspecting testicles. His own drew up viciously, realizing that—if not for Mal’s haste—it could be him sitting in that chair cradling his nuts like a wounded kitten.

  That...that was sobering.

  What was worse was knowing he now had to go upstairs and face the tiger when she was awake and her claws were fully extended. There was no getting around it—his wolf was stalking, impatient to get on with the rut and ease the painful pressure on his cock.

  “Laugh all you want, pretty boy.” Mal gave him a sickly grin. “That is one riled female. Cursed me to hell and back as I hobbled through the door. Think she’d have thrown something at my head if there’d been anything to hand.”

  “It must be her metabolism,” Finn said to himself. “Six tablets should have had her unconscious until the early hours, at the very least. Was she in pain, Mal? Had the analgesic properties worn off or just the sedative?”

  The grin faded. Malachi shut down, drew into himself for a moment as he seemed to filter through his memories. He flinched slightly, then his eyes lifted and met Finn’s. “She’s hurting. I tried to put some of that cream you’d left on the bed on her but she wasn’t having any of it.”

  “What the fuck?” Finn scowled. “Metabolism. It has to come down to metabolism. Her system burned through the drugs. Could it be burning through the heat the same way?”

  “That’s your department, brother,” Quinn grumbled. “I’m leaving now. If you and Mal are coming, let’s go. You can mull over the numerous possibilities of the anomaly upstairs while your wolf takes charge for a while.”

  Breathing deep, Cabhan pushed off the wall and stretched. Shutting out his brothers, he straightened his shoulders and told himself it was just a female. A small, defenseless female who was powerless against him. She shouldn’t be too hard to subdue, right?

  He climbed the stairs like a dead man walking, paused and took a confident breath when he reached the door. Turning the key, he opened it, shut it quietly behind him a second before the overwhelming scent of estrus enveloped him. He barely held onto the wolf as it panted and yowled in excitement.

  The little redhead swayed on unsteady feet, pale and sweaty as she tried to find her balance. Red-rimmed gray eyes found his, glared daggers at him. He felt the stab of them in his chest. The old adage of if looks could kill was incredibly appropriate at the moment.

  “Sit down before you fall down,” he growled at her. Already his voice was altering, deepening into harsh vocals he rarely had opportunity to use. “Cooperate with me and this will be over quickly, petal. Try emasculate me and we’re go
nna have issues.”

  Raine ignored him, limping toward the bathroom with tiny steps. A couple times her knees jolted, almost sending her onto the carpet but she somehow kept herself upright.

  “What do you need?” Cabhan asked, clenching his teeth as the wolf strained. It didn’t take an idiot to see how swollen she was, how red and sore she must be. His hands tightened into fists.

  “Nothing from the likes of you.” She made it to the bathroom door, just, before her legs gave out and sent her sprawling. Mewling quietly, she gripped the jamb and used it to haul herself to standing.

  “If you tell me,” he snarled at her, “I’ll get it for you.”

  “Gonna piss for me as well, wolf? Go to hell.” She slammed the door in his face without another word.

  Well, there was one thing, he thought as he stewed in his own anger, the nerves were well and truly gone.

  Chapter Seven

  Raine

  Peeing was disastrous.

  As was walking, breathing, existing.

  Perched on the seat, hissing between her breath as her sex refused to let anything leave her body for fear of the discomfort she knew was coming, Raine took stock of herself and the damage already done.

  Her rug-burned cheek and cut fingers no longer provided a useful distraction from the incessant throbbing in her womb or the fire ripping through tender flesh. Her poor vagina would never be the same. The foot she’d slammed between the green-eyed bastard’s legs ached like a bitch.

  Her thighs and pelvis were bruised from being spread by wider hips than hers and pounded mercilessly over and over.

  She was hungry, thirsty, exhausted.

  Her system still shuddered from waking to Malachi’s body hammering savagely into hers, his eyes closed and head tipped back. Sweat running in rivulets down his face, his throat, his chest as he used her without thought.

  Raine pushed the memory far away, stomped on it a few times with an imaginary boot. She’d given him a good shock of his own when she’d finally shrugged off the last vestiges of whatever Finn had shoved in her mouth, and a taste of his own medicine as he disengaged from her.