Monsters & Guardians

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Monsters & Guardians Page 18

by Kay Elle Parker


  “Make sure my father understands the son he knew is gone. The Alpha who stands in his shoes is not patient, not kind, and not afraid to send a message to an old man who’s scared of losing the green grass of home from beneath his feet.” A flick of his wrist, and Killian’s wolf screamed. His tongue danced on the ground as nerve endings reacted and began to die, awash with blood and spittle. “Fuck with me or mine and losing your tongue will be the least of your worries, Killian. I’ll take your cock, those sorry excuses for nuts, and I’ll use a hot poker to cauterize the wounds before you can bleed out. Only then will I do what I promised earlier and skin you, disembowel you and eat your fucking heart before you pass through to hell.”

  The wolf staggered, ice blue eyes glazed with pain and shock. No doubt the man inside the beast was stunned by Dubh’s actions—Dubh himself wasn’t unaffected by it. He’d never been one to sanction violence as a means to anything, but when faced with an experienced killer, drastic measures had to be taken to make sure both Fergus and Killian understood he meant what he said.

  Protecting Raine, his pack, was his only priority now. If his brothers wished to go home—he had a feeling Cabhan and Malachi would strongly consider it once he broke the news of their exclusion from tying Raine—they were most welcome to. He would not stand in their way, try to deter them from leaving. They had left Ireland as a brotherly unit, it didn’t mean they had to remain one.

  “Get out of here, Killian, before I change my mind and send my own message to Fergus.” Dubhlainn flexed his fingers, his claws clacking together menacingly, still dripping crimson life. “Your head in a box should do nicely, don’t you think?”

  Hatred poured off the wolf as equally as the waves of pain. That came from Killian, he knew, while the beast yowled and whimpered, not understanding what had happened. But Killian did, and he left a trail of blood as he trotted off into the woods, unsteady on four legs. He’d change out of Dubh’s sight, saving his pride but not his tongue. A wolf could heal from any number of grievous wounds, come back even from the brink of death with a single shift if the will was strong enough, but not even the magic in their blood could regenerate lost appendages.

  Dubhlainn waited until he no longer heard the beast stumbling through the trees before he shifted into his own wolf. Running back to the den seemed to take forever, every stride an inch long, the distance growing longer with every second that passed.

  He wanted to get his life back on track, and that meant upheaving it first. Malachi and Cabhan would have to be denied before he did anything else; they deserved that much. Once he dealt with whatever they threw at him, all five brothers needed to gather and discuss Killian and what it meant for the future. Who would stay, who would go.

  And once that was sorted, one way or another, he was going to get on his fucking knees and beg his mate, his Raine, for forgiveness. It wouldn’t be enough, could never be enough, but it was a start. He would sacrifice pride and dignity, both his and the wolf’s, for the opportunity to see her smile at him with genuine affection, laugh with delight, moan in pleasure not born of the heat or estrus or his fucking growl.

  He shifted back on the porch, stretching out a pulled muscle as he opened the door and, to his complete shock, found Malachi and Cabhan religiously unpacking their stolen haul. Quite the haul, judging by the stuff on the floor and the bulge still in the bags. “Been busy?”

  Cabh glanced up, grinned. “Hit the jackpot. Enough food to last a while if we don’t turn into gluttonous pigs. Lots of bedding, some clothes for us. Beer!”

  Oh fabulous, a mate in heat and wolves gnawing at cages weakened by alcohol. Dubhlainn stepped into the room, making sure the door was shut and locked at his back. As of now, he was tightening security around the den, and once the others had been apprised of the Killian situation, they would take turns on watch.

  Killian had been bossed, but it didn’t mean he’d stay down.

  Chances were, he’d be back with vengeance in mind and wolves in tow.

  The assassin’s pride was going to be the death of him.

  “Just stay off the booze until Raine breaks heat,” Dubh ordered gruffly but without bite. Antagonizing them before he broke the news of his decision wasn’t the smartest thing he could do. “You did well, brothers. Thank you.”

  Cabhan grunted, happily digging through his bag, but Malachi eyed him. Green eyes studied him, that dark head cocked. “You off to see if Finn’s finished breeding the female yet?”

  Dubhlainn’s hackles rose, his teeth clenched. Rolling his head so his neck cracked, he faced his brother without blinking. “I need to go check on the welfare of my mate and my brothers, Mal. Have we got a problem here?”

  Mal shrugged and reached for a beer. “No. Just want to know when it’s my turn.”

  His vision flashed red for a moment and he had to breathe deep to quell the flood of rage crashing through his blood. His turn? His turn? Who the fuck did Mal think he was, some guy stood in line with a fucking ticket in his hand? No. No, there was no going back now.

  “There will be no more turns.” Dubhlainn clenched his fists and managed not to swing for Malachi, only just. The phrase twisted his belly into furious knots. “As far as Raine is concerned, she’s now off limits.”

  Cabhan’s shoulders slumped as he turned to look at the Alpha, but Malachi’s eyes lit with fire to match the knots in Dubhlainn’s stomach. “You’re not saying until her next heat.”

  “No. I’m saying at all,” Dubh growled, establishing dominance before Malachi did something idiotic. But his brother ignored the cautionary sound and began circling the Alpha. “Neither of you have proven yourself in terms of showing Raine any respect—Cabhan sees her as nothing more than a vessel to churn out pups, and you...all you’re interested in is getting your turn. A mate should be more, should be revered as a blessing in our lives, and she isn’t that to you.”

  “So Finn, the fucking pansy, not only ranks higher than us now, but he gets the right to breed that tight cunt whenever he feels like it? Don’t see him out scavenging for the squeamish little princess,” Mal snarled, enraged, and cemented Dubh’s decision into stone. Not to mention sent his temper into a spin. “Fucking bullshit, Dubhlainn. What’s the real reason? Sick of sharing that pussy now that Quinn and Finn have stretched it out? One too many knots making that cunt too loose for you?”

  Dubh’s fist moved of its own accord. One moment it was clenched by his side, the next it smashed into his brother’s face with a crack. Malachi staggered back, disorientated, but Dubhlainn was already pursuing him, ramming his fist up into a hard belly, another shot to the face.

  Relentless, wolf and man united in defending their mate’s honor, Dubh drove Malachi back across the room with a series of punishing blows that left his younger brother spitting blood and with a rapidly swelling face. His wolf wanted the kill, to rip Mal’s throat out and howl with victory over the body of the imbecile who dared insult the precious one, but the human’s saner head prevailed and reasoned with the beast.

  Blood was still blood.

  Barely breathing hard, Dubhlainn towered over the hunched form of his kin and resisted booting him in the guts. “Killian came with an offer earlier this evening. Not so long ago in fact. Fergus wants us to go home. I refused but told him I’d give you all the choice of whether you stayed here or returned to Ireland.” He flexed his hand, relishing the nips of pain in his battered knuckles. “Go home, Malachi. I love you; you’re my brother, I will always love you, but you are not welcome in this pack anymore. Raine is off limits because I believe she cannot handle anything else, physically or mentally, and your attitude tells me I’m right in denying you. So make your choice, here and now.”

  Malachi hacked up blood, spat it on the floor. “Limited options, right?”

  “Walk out of this house and go back to Ireland with Killian, if that’s what you wish. Go forth into the big wide world, I don’t care. As long as you’re away from my mate.” Dubh bared his teeth, growled as Malac
hi straightened, wiping his bloody mouth with the back of his hand. “Or I can end this now, permanently, and disassemble you with my bare hands.”

  Seemed to be a night for ultimatums and shedding blood. A meek part of Dubh wanted to quiver and quail at being so brazen, so bold, while he effectively shredded life as he knew it and reshaped the remaining strands into a strong, impervious cocoon with Raine at the center.

  The rest of him embraced the power of the Alpha, the surge of testosterone and destiny coursing through his veins and grabbed fate by the throat with both hands. Held on tight, accepted what he was supposed to be and the responsibility that came with it.

  He was the fucking Alpha.

  “You couldn’t kill me. If you love me, you wouldn’t kill me over a bitch in heat.” Malachi shook his head and then paled when Dubh’s hands formed claws for the second time that night. “Or maybe you could. Power trip gone to your head, oh mighty Alpha?”

  Such disrespect deserves punishment, the wolf all but salivated at the insult. First, he belittles our precious, then he mocks our authority. Take the choice from his grasp and kill the traitor.

  “Do you want to die tonight, Mal? My wolf is eager to please.”

  “I’m going. Big fucking relief to get out of this shithole and from under your rule, big brother. Even that cunt upstairs isn’t a good enough reason to stifle myself locked in here with you and the sheep we call brothers.” Green eyes glazed with madness and pain pinned Cabhan, who had wisely moved out of the way of the fight. “Are you coming, Cabh? Your chance to finally get out there and escape his thumb. He’s never gonna let you near that bitch you crave so much again.”

  Crunch. Blood splattered, warm and bright, as Malachi’s nose exploded under Dubhlainn’s blow.

  “Call her a bitch again, say anything derogatory about her again, and you won’t speak for the rest of your very short lifespan, Mal. Cabhan, decide whether you’re staying or going.”

  Looking sheepish, a little nervous, Cabhan lowered his head in deference to the Alpha, lowering to one knee. “I’d like the opportunity to redeem myself, Alpha, if you’ll permit it. I know I can be crude, crass, and I’ll try to contain myself in future if you’ll allow me to remain with the pack.”

  Not bad for an apology and a grovel, he mused. Especially when it came from hardass Cabhan. “You can stay for now. If your attitude and outlook improves, we will reassess the situation when Raine is in the right mind to discuss it. Disappoint me and you won’t like the consequences.”

  “Thank you, Alpha.”

  “Thank you, Alpha,” Malachi mocked in disgust.

  Dubhlainn reached out and grabbed his brother by the hair, dragging him to the door, unlocking it and throwing him onto the porch. “Go your own way, Malachi. If you want Killian, you’ll be able to track his blood if you go half a mile south. Come back here, cause me or the pack trouble of any kind and, blood or not, I will grind your bones into dust.” He closed the door on Malachi’s stunned expression, flicked the lock.

  “Just like that?” Cabhan murmured.

  “Just like that. Redeem yourself in her eyes and mine, Cabhan, or it’ll be just like that for you.” Dubhlainn cracked out his sore knuckles, saw his brother flinch. “Your efforts today are greatly appreciated, Cabh. I’m sorry it had to come to this; I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t think Raine can take anymore. Ultimately, it comes down to me to keep her safe.”

  “You think I’d harm her?”

  “We’ve all harmed her, Cabh.” Dubh ran a hand over his face wearily. “We’ve all reduced her to nothing but an orifice. It stops today. I know it might cause a rift and I’m sorry for that.”

  Cabhan shrugged his shoulders. “If I prove myself worthy of her? Will you let me...I know I’ve been a prick, Dubh. I understand why you’ve done this, but I need to know. If I change myself for her, for you, will you let me tie with her and become part of the pack again?”

  “You’re still pack, Cabhan. You’re still blood.”

  “A pack where three-quarters are mated to the same woman with me as odd-man out. Blood doesn’t give me the tie, the bond.”

  It was a valid point. Dubhlainn mulled it over as he studied the look in his brother’s amber eyes, so like their sire’s. But there was repentance there, none of the fiery rebellion Malachi had displayed, no urge to challenge the Alpha. Just patient waiting, regret, hope. If Cabhan proved himself worthy of Raine, Dubh would do his best to persuade her to welcome his brother as a mate. And he told him just that.

  Determination filled Cabhan’s face, a new mission to better himself, and it made Dubh proud. Perhaps if Mal had displayed the same willingness, he wouldn’t be out in the cold. “I will, Alpha. I’ll reform myself. I’ll be what you need me to be.”

  “Be what you need yourself to be, brother. Now, I need to go check on Raine. Can I leave you in charge of this?” Dubhlainn gestured to the bags and the fresh supplies. “I have no doubt Finn or Quinn will be down shortly to give you a hand.”

  “I’ll be fine. Thank you, Dubh, for not dismissing me off the bat.”

  “You’re brother, Cabh. You’re family.” And family was important.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Raine

  Floating, bobbing along on a current of receding orgasm, Raine’s conscious thoughts rose above the chaos of the heat and back into reality. Several things registered at once, shedding the last hum of release from her blood and putting her on full alert.

  Her face was tucked into Quinn’s shoulder, cheeks still damp from the tears he and Finn had urged her to free when the latter’s knot hooked behind her pubic bone and imprisoned her against the youngest wolf. While Finn plunged and pounded into her, Quinn’s eyes—chocolate verging on the edge of black—held her in their thrall, a powerful and intimate connection. To gaze into the eyes of one man, comforted and growled at by him, while another bred her...

  It confused her.

  Even now, Quinn’s hands stroked her damp hair, her face as that rumbling growl brought her serenity. His body was hard beneath hers, a slab of muscle damp with sweat. His erection throbbed against her mound, but he made no move to sate himself.

  Covering her, Finn’s body pumped heat and seed into her in equal measure. He was trembling as much as she, random words and endearments tumbling from disorientated lips. Lips that caressed and kissed her neck and shoulders in what felt like gratitude. His cock twitched and jerked weakly, a sign she was coming to recognize as the end of the tie.

  She was so tired. Down to the bone, down to the soul exhausted.

  Maybe she’d go to sleep and not wake up. Somehow, that didn’t hold the same appeal as it had just the day before. Shouldn’t it? The prospect of sliding away without pain or awareness of the fact her life was drawing to a close should have beckoned to her like a crooked finger, but...

  But, Raine thought, she didn’t want to die.

  Her arms jerked slightly, body stirring with the need to escape the stifling embrace of two strong men. Immediately, Finn’s mouth was at her ear while Quinn captured her hands in his. “Shush, little one. Almost over, promise.” His voice was tight, soft. “Fuck, I want to live inside you.”

  “Finn,” Quinn chastised gently. “Tone it down, brother.”

  “Sorry, sorry.” He moaned, so did she, when her body seemed to light up with energy, sending her pussy into excited spasms. “I think she’s strangling my cock. What the hell’s gotten you all worked up, Raine?”

  Quinn chuckled knowledgably. He whispered in her ear, “I know what’s worked you up, sweetheart. He’s coming, isn’t he? Dubhlainn’s here and you know it.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “There’s no shame in wanting him, Raine. He’s yours. We all are.”

  Her heart, so strongly guarded, faltered. Why did that sound so appealing? She hated it when they stated she was theirs, property to be claimed, territory to be pissed on and marked. In the last few days, they’d reduced to her to nothing. A pussy to be fucked, a womb to be fertil
ized.

  This? That Quinn could refer to them as hers, that they belonged to her, snuck beneath the walls of her fortress and wormed into her heart. She wasn’t being split between five men, made to feel like a shadow of herself as they each snatched a part of her and changed it to suit themselves.

  With only a few words, Quinn set her world spinning on its axis.

  “Do you want us to give you some time alone with him?” Quinn asked quietly as she heard the door squeak open and footsteps pad into the room. “You were calling for him earlier, when you took the knot.”

  Her head jerked up in surprise, staring at Quinn through a tangled curtain of red locks. She saw him smile kindly, his eyebrow lifting as he used a finger to clear her sight of unruly bed hair.

  She’d called for Dubhlainn?

  The heat had consumed her, but she could remember crying out over and over when Finn pushed deep and formed the unbreakable tie. She just couldn’t recall what she’d actually said, or apparently, who she’d called for.

  “He’s the Alpha, sweetheart, and he was the first to seal the bond between you. He’s the wolf you respond most to, the man you crave even though you’re scared and hurting.” Quinn tilted her head so her gaze flicked to the monster standing beside the bed, traveled up to gorgeous blue eyes currently reflecting her body’s electrified state back at her. As though he’d heard her, Quinn murmured, “Monsters we may be, Raine, but just remember not all monsters are inherently evil. Some of us aspire to be more for the love of a woman. Our woman. We dream of better things, a better life, of striving to be more guardian than beast.”

  “Sweettalking my precious, Quinn?” Dubhlainn asked with a touch of humor.

  “Absolutely. When she’s been such a brave girl, she deserves some sweetness, don’t you, baby?” He nuzzled at her hair and something thrilled inside her at the jealousy that snapped in the air. “You get your head sorted out, Dubh?”

 

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