Captiva Craving

by Talyn Scott

  “Oh, God, he couldn’t live without her, even though he left kids?”

  “Our males are the best fathers running. Still, they can go insane without their females. Back to missing pieces, we haven’t connected them between then” - he gestured with his chin at the photo- “and when your human parents adopted you…or found you…or took you.”

  “They were killed in a car accident on the Sanibel Causeway.”

  “I know, sweetheart,” he soothed, his arms tightening around her. “You’re a true Ruyter, though, no matter whom your father or your grandfather is, you have plenty of family, biological and Pack wise.”

  “I saw them risk their lives for me, your Pack.” Her head filled with cotton, growing drowsy. The needle no longer hurt. “I feel guilty…for those who were injured.”

  “What you saw out there was overwhelming. Let it go, sweetheart. Beasts love a challenging fight, it breaks ennui.” In the next beat he asked, “Do you have any memories of Anthony in your childhood?”

  “Not many before my parents died…they’re scattered like…”

  “Like they were with the Dynasty Vampyr?”

  She snuffed ineloquently, pulling back to study him. “Yeah…they are.”

  “Curious.”

  “Past curious. Sixten said Anthony was involved with the shifters. Gianni said he sold me to him as a Donor.” A line of concern marred her forehead. “Who does that? Who sells someone?”

  “Vile filth,” was his response. “I’m sorry to say those transactions happen mostly in the human world, and sadly enough, often with children.”

  “Who do these people think they are?”

  “That’s just it, Blythe, evil doesn’t think.” He wiped her tears with his thumb. “It consumes.”

  “Then, if these tattoos don’t work, what choice do I have? Besides becoming wholly immortal, I need to change my blood’s calling card.”

  “There is another choice. That’s the thing about a real family, Blythe. Maybe I’m sticking my nose in with the Undead thing, pushing you around a tad to try out our Druid…arts. But before you make your mind up, doing what you think you need to do. I’d like you to meet the North American Alpha. He and Sixten have hit some rough patches. Regardless, I summoned him as a personal favor.”

  “And I’m sick of waiting, man.” A gorgeous blonde misted in. A highlander slash movie star slash all-star quarterback with eyes an amazing shade of blue. She’d never seen anything quite like it, like him. Where Bane was imposing, the Alpha was dangerous. Something different shifted behind this man’s eyes. And whatever it was, it was looking back at her. A man within a man…or maybe, she’d just met the werewolf of all werewolves. “Time is better spent with action, I always say.” He reached out, palm up. Without a word leaving her lips, he placed her hand in his. “Hello, Blythe Ruyter.”

  “H-hello.” She flushed, embarrassed at her gaping. So many immortals had come and gone, one more frightening than the next. And yet…

  “It’s good,” he said with a wolfy smile, all teeth. “I’d like to say I always have that effect on women, but I’ve been known to send some packing in a cloud of dust. I guess we’ll chalk this up to your inner Were recognizing her Alpha, sound good?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He hadn’t released her hand, tilting his head curiously. “I don’t think you want to become a vampire, even though you love one.”

  “You’re not trying to coerce me, are you?” He tightened on her fingers when she tried to take her hand away.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think I don’t want to be an, um, Undead.” No, he wasn’t coercing her, but her lips were spilling truth and she couldn’t stop them. “I can’t lie to you?”

  “I’m not allowing it.” A flicker moved behind his eyes, pacing back and forth. A rush went through her body, a welcoming power, a calming presence. “I heard you were doing really well since your captivity.” His teeth clamped together a minute before he continued. “But you were in the preverbial gilded cage, weren’t you?”

  She nodded, willing herself not to cry.

  “Cages have a way of hanging around in your mind, creating fear where there is no longer a threat. I can easily take those horrible memories away from you, but that’s not what you need, Blythe. Not all things can be good and some harsh experiences have a way of carving us into better beings. And then we move on to help others with what we know. I can see by that look on your face, you’ll have to take my word for it, for now. “By the Alpha’s gift,” he said with a trace of a growl, “I offer you strength.”

  Something in her body changed, though she had no idea what it was. However, Blythe understood one thing without Jayce confirming it: She just bonded to his Pack, and, simultaneously, a lead weight marked by Gianni left her shoulders.

  “Some time ago, we thought you were a werewolf mixed blood,” Jayce said with a mega-watt smile. “As it stands, we’re talking what, Bane? A Species or even Dynasty was thrown in her mix?”

  “More than likely, a Dynasty Vampyr.”

  She bit her tongue. And since he asked Bane that pointed question about her bio dad and not her, it didn’t wag. But she did say, “Why work my way through a vampire monarchy for unnecessary information when they treated my grandmother like a whore and allowed the same with me? I’d rather cut down that family tree. As far as I’m concerned, they can all go fuck themselves.” Too many shooters, did she really say that to an Alpha?

  Jayce sniggered, gently releasing her hand. “Yeah, you’ve got the Beta’s blood, alright.”

  “Can you read my mind like Oycher?” She glanced at Oycher nervously. He’d stayed stoic after warning off Ryan, though he heard all her mental meanderings.

  “I can, but I wasn’t. I scented your will to challenge - to fight. The Alpha appreciates it.” He flared a Beast and her eyes widened. In the next blink, he went back to normal, if there was such a thing around here. “Remember the times I offered my Sanibel manse to you?”

  “Yes, Bane wanted me to stay with him.” She nodded, her mind still rolling around somewhere. “When I refused, he offered your home instead.”

  “Well, you really should have taken one of us up on that offer.”

  She would have been there instead of the Sanctuary on that harrowing night. But still… “The Lovec would have found me.”

  “Those Stavz don’t work the same way on a werewolf.” When she opened her mouth, the Alpha shook his head and she closed it. “Answer this: Do you truly love Sixten Kovac?”

  “Yes.”

  Jayce inhaled deeply, holding his breath before releasing it on a slow exhale. “As usual, you nailed it, my Beta.”

  “He nailed what?”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Okay,” she mumbled.

  “Just okay? Alright then, instead of stopping your heart, having a Patriarch, your Undead creator, own you, would you consider our rights to mate ceremony?”

  “You mean; Sixten comes to your Pack with me?”

  “It’s a ceremony matching werewolf males to their celestially appointed female. Even mixed bloods, some who only have a trace of Were blood, become immortals after they mate under a full moon. And get this. You’re heart still beats, and although you are immortal, you stay flesh and blood. Younglings are still an option, uh, kids.”

  She only heard part of that. “Males?” Plural? Oh, that was what Bane went through with her new doctor. Dru and his werewolf co-mates lived on Captiva. “But, like I said, I love Sixten.”

  “I heard you the first time.” His teeth snapped when he added, “There would be a…Sixten clause. A contract between vamps and Weres I’ve approved on occasion. Your vampire comes with the package, an undisputable condition of mating.” By the look on Jayce’s face, those terms would be difficult for any werewolf to accept. “He would be an equal partner.”

  Sixten was her only partner. “It’s not in me.”

  “So many mixed bloods think it’s not, and then…we
ll.” He flashed the devil’s smile. “I won’t go into all that here, but if you want to talk to my mate about it, let me know. Tatum’s helped quite a few females adjust in our Pack, a little niche she carved for herself.” His pride in his wife showed all over his face, his smile widening. “Mind you, she’s pregnant and grouchy but I’ll ply her with food before you arrive. And you’ll have to visit her without Sixten. My Alpha will not tolerate him around my queen while she carries our youngling.”

  Wow. Threats galore. “I’d love to meet her someday, but not to discuss mating.”

  He glanced at Bane, his softness, if you could call it that, leaving. “I have to meet with Prince Volos. He’s lingering. Word is: he’s not pulling out of Florida for a while.”

  “You?” Bane snorted. “Why you? I’ll take care of it. The shifters made the kills, remember?”

  “No offense, man. But you haven’t the diplomacy to deal with a vampire that proud, and he’s livid over these kills. The guards, a hunter, and, of course, his late cousin the Marchii bit the dust in one grand swoop. He wants his answers and I’m hitting him back with a formal grievance.” Jayce didn’t appear worried. “His kind shouldn’t have taken what was ours.”

  Jayce flicked a glance at Blythe when she shuddered, patting her on the knee in encouragement. They were covering for Sixten’s participation. Bane could have killed Gianni, but he had given Sixten the honor. What kind of world was this where killing was an honor? Though a world without Gianni, she reminded herself, isn’t that bad. “Thank you,” she said quietly, a major understatement. “I don’t have anything else to offer you, but my appreciation.”

  “We don’t require payment from you or Sixten.” Jayce explained, “Doesn’t work that way with us, Blythe. No matter what you think, or anybody says, I’ll treat you as one of mine. But I would ask for your word on something.”

  “Of course,” she said, flinching under Ryan’s needle. He’d hint a tender spot. By the looks of it, she figured it to be a bone of some sort. Ew! He was closer now, working on her inner wrist in vampiric speed after leaving her ankle. The smell of blood hit her palate, though Ryan and Oycher weren’t bothered by it.

  “Like my Beta, I’m pushy.” Jayce’s head canted, blue flares seeking. “You don’t become Alpha by filling out a job application, you know? If all this doesn’t work out,” he explained, looking between her and Ryan, “talk to me. Consider all your options. Before stopping your loving heart, come to me first. ”

  She could easily give him that. “I will. And…though I’m saying no to this ‘rights to mate’, you’ll still help me and Sixten with Prince Volos?”

  “Helping a vampire is always against my better judgment,” he said honestly, “but yeah.”

  He asked Bane, “How’s Dru?”

  “He’s right as rain.”

  Without another word, he winked at Blythe and misted away.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A Little Time Under The Stars

  Oycher walked Blythe to Six Feet Under. She wanted to visit with her friends while waiting for Sixten, but, as usual, things were hopping and no one had the time to stop. The oversized Vojak was his grouchy self, staring at her throat with longing… hungry longing. “Are you going to bite me?”

  He sucked his lower lip between his teeth, a habit of his. “Sweet Blythe, I think you want me to bite you. And those new tattoos of yours,” he groaned like a man lost. “Let’s just say, I’m picturing you hanging from there.” He motioned to the human cages suspended from Six Feet Under’s ceiling. The club lights flickered in his beaded hair. “Or…umm, that would be perfect if you were naked.”

  She knew Oycher wasn’t into her, but enjoyed pushing her buttons as much as Sixten’s. She shaded her eyes from the flickering lights, following his interest on the upper dance floor. ‘Wet leather’ covered Sophie’s body, well, in certain places, as she twirled around on what Ryan referred to as ‘the trapeze noir’. She wasn’t wearing a safety harness, probably looking for bigger tips. But when Ryan caught her, look out Sophie. “Ryan would never let me do it, no matter how much I begged. And I really needed the extra money, too. Pays more than the cages,” she added, remembering how the dancers earned more than her meager wages as a bookkeeper. A few of the cages were empty, and she found that curious. The more dancers, the more money Ryan pocketed. “Wonder what Six would do if I did a little dance for him up there. Wanna give me a boost, mind stalker?”

  Before Oycher could respond, familiar hands wrapped themselves around her waist, pulling her back onto firm planes and drugging scent. “What would I do? I would pull down your panties and spank you in front of everyone here.”

  “I’m not wearing any.”

  A slow hiss and then, “Panties or not, my wife will not be jiggling the goods for anyone other than myself. Clear?”

  “The trapeze then?”

  “I’ll order one for the house,” he whispered in her ear, discreetly rubbing his semi against her ass, and she wanted him to take her there. Oh, shit, Oycher don’t you dare tell him that.

  “It’s time for a perimeter check,” Oycher said with a flash of teeth. “Kash is heading back from Marco Island, said he would get with you later tonight.”

  “I’m only getting with Blythe later tonight,” he whispered, his tongue flicking against her lobe. He caressed his fingertips down the sides of her body, her nipples pebbling impossibly. “You’re more relaxed.”

  “I am.”

  Oycher took off. Blythe watched his powerful body, somewhat larger than Sixten’s, move through the crowd. Horny women grabbed at him, but he was on duty, so he ignored them easily.

  “Hungry?”

  For something salty, yes. “No food. You.”

  “I want to kiss your plump lips.” One hand came up, gliding over her mouth. “Not these.”

  Now, she wished she’d worn panties. Moisture leaked, slicking her inner thighs. And if she sat down in this dress, a twist-waist jersey mini Sixten paid too much money for, she would spot the back.

  Blythe spun around, staring up at him. “Dance?”

  A thumb brushed over her pleading nipple in vampiric speed no human could track. “Yes.”

  As they moved forward, the dance floor booming under their feet, she suddenly didn’t like what she saw. Per usual, random women were eye-fucking her man. She arched a dangerous brow at the more obvious ones. Not gonna happen, bitches.

  Sixten cupped her cheeks, bringing her face back to his. He was tense, his mouth suddenly forming a straight line. “I want to kill every man in here. I can’t stay. It’s too soon and I’m having…territorial issues.” He shook his head, blades of hair falling over his sharp cheeks, lights turning them green before flashing to gold. “Maybe we should dance somewhere more private. Or do something other than dance. We need time that is more private. We have plenty of opportunity for this stuff…” He looked around the club and then zeroed in on her hardened nipples. “God, I don’t know when I’ll be less possessive. Probably never. Let’s just go.”

  They moved to the back, exiting through a side door after she waved at Ryan. She hadn’t had the chance to really talk to him, and he’d kept his conversation to a minimum around Bane. With a whisper in her ear, he made her promise to catch up with him when Sixten settled down. When was Sixten going to settle down?

  The stench of the alleyway bothered her. “Your sense of smell is better than mine. How do you walk past a dumpster without an epic hurl showdown?”

  He lifted her, cradling her body against his chest, making her feel feminine and protected. He frowned and then pulled her dress tightly against her ass right after a warm breeze brushed the most private part of her body. “Unless you’re at home, or I deem another location acceptable, this missing panties thing won’t happen again.” He bit her hard, piercing her throat unexpectedly.

  And they were off, their bodily cells joining high above Fort Myers, heading for the island. She loved it when Sixten kept her conscious. Giggling as though
she were a small child, she watched the water ripple across the river as it flowed into the ocean, the starlight dancing overhead as the buildings receded beneath them. He drew her closer, whipping her glittering form over the Sanibel Causeway. Spinning and spiraling, his way of dancing with her before they headed home. She glanced down, the water nearing her feet. All the pelicans were sleeping on various perches, ignoring them. The cars drove back and forth, rather lazily. No one seemed to be in a hurry tonight, and for once, they weren’t, either.

  Sixten solidified when they reached their Captiva manse. Theirs. After releasing his bite, she formed next to him on the side deck overlooking the beach. Her mind wiggled a second or two before resettling.

  “And to answer your question, I’m used to smells from dumpsters and such. What I’m not used to is my mate smelling of werewolves. Hate it, Blythe.” He extended his claws, shredding her crazy-priced dress into a thousand ribbons. They whirled around before they landed at her heels. “I truly do. And what’s more? You wore that tiny dress while Ryan marked your gorgeous skin. What was I thinking letting you out of the house that way?” He brushed the back of a claw across one nipple and then the next, staring as they stood out for him. With a menacing hiss, he gripped her elbows, flicking the hair from his eyes and pulling back to take a good look at her new Druid-inspired tattoos. “Are you trying to get your friend killed?” Leaning in, inhaling at her throat, a warning mixed with a heady welcoming whisper, “I think you are.”

  She batted her lashes. “What was the question?” He was gorgeous, and he’d put her in the deer-in-the-headlights trance without even trying. Tonight, no leather, just slim fit jeans he barely fit into wrapped his long, thick legs. He’d contrasted it with a Dolce and Gabanna linen and silk blazer the color of the night. A tight, long-sleeved cotton jersey hugged his chest, warmed and dampened with his scent. The clean white bringing out the platinum streaks in his flaxen hair, he looked like heaven and hell rolled into one.

  “Ah, your love is as fierce as mine.” He smiled knowingly. “It amazes me every time I see it reflected in your eyes. Don’t you know I can’t breathe without you?”