by J. A. Saare
“It’s your Lycae—” Trevor started to explain when he was shoved away and replaced by another body.
Arden lifted her chin and gazed up, homing in on the gargantuan Lycae bending over her. She’d met Adam Trevlian one time, when he’d come to Greyson’s after a tussle with a Chimera, and that had been enough. He was only slightly shorter than Wolfe, with the same dark black hair and hunter green eyes. His black t-shirt was wrinkled, as were his pants, and a dark shadow was spaced across his jaw.
“The Warlock tells me you’ve mated my cousin. I’d be inclined to dispute that truth, considering what you are. Then my brother got a call from a vampyren king that says otherwise.” Adam’s nostrils flared and he narrowed his eyes. “You don’t carry Wolfe’s scent. Why?”
She backed away, wobbling slightly on uneven elbows. “What is going on?”
Adam’s furious snarl and display of fang silenced her. “Answer the question.”
“I’ve only known Wolfe for twenty-four hours. You do the math,” she snapped and felt her cheeks heat. Her sex life was not open for discussion—to anyone. “Where is Wolfe?”
Adam ignored her question. “He would have claimed you. Even in that short span of time.” His eyes narrowed into slits. “We don’t leave our mates unmarred by our scent.”
“Like you claimed Kassia Lambert?” Trevor said smugly. “Word is you waited three years tae stake your claim on her, Alpha.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Warlock.” Adam rose from her side and faced off against Trevor. While tall, her friend was inches shorter than the massive Lycae. Still, he stood his ground.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Trevor smiled as if completely unfazed. “I’m just pointing out the facts tae assist a friend.”
Arden thrust aside the blankets and tried to stand, grimacing when her body protested the movement as if she’d been sleeping for days. “Would someone please tell me what in the hell is going on? Where is Wolfe?”
“He went to meet with Taylor Martinson three nights ago and never returned,” Adam answered, moving aside and allowing her room.
“Three nights ago,” she shrieked and staggered from the bed, stumbling over unsteady feet while grasping at the hem of the long, black T-shirt barely covering her body. “How long have I been out?”
Trevor stepped forward and grasped her forearms, holding her steady. “The Lycae went tae meet the vampyren slave the same night he brought you tae me, Cricket.”
Her stomach wrenched painfully, and for the first time in decades, it wasn’t due to bloodlust. She recognized the fear permeating her system. She’d had the same reaction when she’d learned Portia was being sent directly to her death. Her fingernails curved into Trevor’s skin, causing him to tense as she broke the surface. She let him go and stepped past, grateful her reflexes and mind were primed.
“Where is he?” she asked in a deceptively soft voice laced with menace.
“With Lucius Mercoix.” Adam moved closer, folding massive arms over his chest. “The bastard king thinks he can use our current dilemma to his advantage. He contacted Luke this morning, informing him Wolfe would be killed within the next twenty-four hours unless we deferred to his wishes.”
“And what wishes might those be?” Arden snapped, impatient and agitated.
“He wants to arrange a swap.”
“A swap.” She laughed bitterly, all but numb. She faced Adam, noting his grim expression and beautiful features. She stopped sneering, knowing the answer before she asked the question. “What kind of swap, Alpha?”
“My cousin in exchange for you, Daywalker.”
Her face was a blank slate, ensuring Trevor and Adam remained oblivious to the war raging inside. Handing herself over to the vampyren king meant eternal servitude or death—with death being preferable. There was no middle ground. If she entered the domain of Lucius Mercoix, she would seal her fate. Killing off his kin would ensure she wouldn’t be spared. Not by him. Not by his brethren. He would enjoy wringing every scream he could from her body.
It would be the most brutal kind of torture imaginable.
But if she didn’t go . . .
An image of Wolfe’s face flashed in her mind, his devastating hunter green eyes haunting.
“I’ll do it.”
Trevor snagged her arm again, his husky and accented voice difficult to understand. “Heed me, Cricket. The vampyren king will kill you. He will no’ wait and see if he can bring you tae your knees before the fact. Revenge comes second only tae self-preservation. He’ll see the matter done, and that will be that. You’re going tae have tae let this go.”
“Lucius will kill Wolfe.” She snatched her arm free. “I won’t stay here and let that happen.”
“Doona go soft on me now! You’ve no’ mated the Lycae. You will survive his loss with nary a tear.”
“No.” She shook her head, disturbed at just how wrong Trevor was. “I won’t.”
“It’s no’ possible. You canna love him. You’ve only just met!”
She didn’t argue, wrapping her arms around herself. How could she explain what she didn’t understand? A heavy weight crushed her chest when she conceived of tomorrow without Wolfe, as if a portion of her soul shriveled up and ceased to breathe.
“It’s very possible, Sheriff,” Adam offered amiably in her stead. “Wolfe saw something in her, and she saw something in him. It’s the way of mates.”
Trevor nailed her in place with tumultuous indigo eyes. “Damn it! I willna let you do this, Cricket. Do you hear? I willna allow it!”
“It’s not your choice to make! I won’t leave him to die. I can’t.”
Trevor’s usually calm façade dissipated, sending waves of magic off his body and coursing through the air. Objects began to levitate and the hair on her arms stood on end. His beautiful blue eyes flashed white, and she felt the power wafting through his skin. Several decorative artifacts crashed to the floor and the walls began to vibrate.
“Calm down, Sheriff,” Adam ordered.
“I doona go by that title anymore!” Trevor thundered and turned on the Alpha. He lifted his arm and the casting wand nestled in the corner flew into his outstretched fingers. He pointed the blinding white orb at Adam and roared, “I allowed you into my home as a courtesy, Lycae. But I have no obligation tae you or yours. That girl is the closest thing I have tae family, and I will no’ allow her tae leave. If you try tae take her, I will kill you.”
“Don’t make me rip your spine out, Warlock.” Adam’s voice changed as his body began to shift, the muscles in his shoulders and arms contorting and broadening.
“I’d bloody love tae see you try, pup!”
“Stop it!” Arden quickly moved between them. She faced her friend, softening her voice and imploring him to listen. “This is my decision, Trevor. Not yours.”
The couch and dining table came several inches from the ground, the chairs quickly following suit. Lights flickered on and off, and cabinets opened and closed in violent slams and thwacks. The energy surrounding them was incredible. Loss of control was something Trevor rarely displayed, something Arden had only witnessed when he faced the Lich that had almost killed them.
“Trevor, please,” she whispered, moving closer. “Stop.”
“Cool off, Warlock.” Adam’s voice was smooth as butter. When Arden spun around to face him, he was utterly cool and composed. “Did you honestly believe I would sacrifice the only mate Wolfe will ever have to a fucking leech? Be sensible and stop the light display. Save that shit for Christmas or Mardi Gras.”
Trevor’s voice echoed from behind her. “Start talking.”
“It’s time my cousin ponied up and grew a pair. I’ve waited for him to do what’s right, hoping he would come to terms with who and what he is without interference. He’s just lacked the proper motivation to guide the way. If this won’t make that happen, nothing will.” Adam’s mouth lifted at the corners, his eyes shifting color. “We’ll force Wolfe to ascend and take his rightful place in the pack.
The vampyren have been taking advantage of what I did to Demetrius Espada for far too long. It’s time they remember why it is they don’t fuck with the Lycae.”
“His rightful place,” Arden echoed in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“As Alpha.” Adam smirked, the lines in his forehead and lips creasing in a manner that reminded her entirely of Wolfe. “He’s next in line to inherit the pack.”
Flashes of what had transpired in her apartment came rushing back, including his seemingly timeless shift. Only the most powerful Lycae could change form that quickly. Man one second, beast the next.
“An Alpha?” she whispered dumbly.
Adam nodded. “And a damned powerful one.”
She shook her head in denial. “If he’s an Alpha, Lucius could never have touched him.”
“He’s an Alpha without a pack,” Adam stated, correcting her softly. “Without wolves beneath him to draw power from, he’s vulnerable.”
The furniture returned to the floor with a loud crash, the loud hum of magic dissipating. Trevor appeared beside her, casting wand lowered.
“It willna matter what you try tae do. No’ now. Wolfe said he would no’ involve the pack in this.”
“He will if she’s at stake.” Adam hiked his chin in her direction. “Wolfe will do whatever it takes to protect his mate. It’s ingrained in him as a male. And my sources tell me you have amassed quite a few enemies, Dhampir. Mating the Alpha of a powerful pack will ensure they leave well enough alone.”
“What do you plan tae do?” Trevor went quiet as he internalized, his dark brows creasing.
Adam’s face went from menacing to positively charming. He smiled, displaying perfectly straight and white teeth. “I thought you’d never ask, Sheriff.”
Trevor scowled and grumbled, “I told you. I doona go by that title anymore.”
“You do now.” Adam’s smile remained perfectly intact, bordering on conceited. “We need the strength of a Judge on our side if we expect to pull this off.”
“Goddamn it,” Trevor spat and glared at her. “You owe me, Cricket. I swore I’d never take up with souls again, not after Sarah.” She tried to speak, but he lifted a hand, silencing her. “Don’t bother saying it. I know you’re sorry. I can see it in those pitiful doelike eyes of yours.”
Shaking his head, Trevor turned to Adam. “What do you want me tae do?”
The Alpha’s grin extended, becoming truly wolflike as he drawled, “How long has it been since you’ve cloaked an army, Sheriff McAvoy?”
Chapter Twelve
Everything was covered in a thick red haze of rage, preventing Wolfe from thinking clearly. The taunts of impending death and torture no longer mattered.
He was beyond communication.
The shift had come hours ago, when the moon parted the clouds and touched his skin. With the heat of that glorious soft, white glow came something else, something primordial.
He heard the call of the moon, the need to go to and claim his mate. It consumed him entirely, blocking out everything else around him. When the opportunity was presented, and he was freed of confines of the silver cage, he would rip out the throats of his captors and leave them to rot.
Then, he would go to his female.
Arden.
He rotated in the confined space and tried to calm himself by resting on the cool bedding of the truck. The heat of the moon was heavy now, and relief would only come when he buried himself fully inside Arden’s tight, wet sex, plunging into her pale body again and again until this need was spent, his temper cooled, and his mind cleared.
Instinctual urges crafted erotic images that tormented and teased him. He wanted to tongue her until she came, just as he had on the counter they’d nearly destroyed. Then, he’d see her on her knees once more, sucking his cock while he told her all the wonderful and delicious ways he was going to make her scream his name. He wanted to hear her beg for more, wanted her to whimper and writhe beneath him as her sex clenched and milked his entire length over and over again.
His entire body shuddered violently and he struggled for control.
He wanted to introduce her to the Lycae way of mating differently, taking his time as not to frighten her. He would hurt her if he took her like this. Nipping and scratching at her porcelain skin, bending her over whatever object gave him the best leverage to take her from behind, pounding into her silken heat until they were locked together irrevocably.
As soon as I’m free . . .
Shame swamped him, along with a profound regret. He should have heeded the Warlock’s warning and gone to Luke. With the power of the pack, Lucius never would have caught him off guard with the goddamned silver net. He would have demolished the entire vampyren easily for attempting such a thing.
But now . . .
Now he would have to claim Arden for the first time under the heat of a full moon. And because of that, his mate would suffer his decision upon their union as a consequence.
Will force myself to go slow, have to be gentle.
His mind returned to the present when a vampyren appeared, running from the line of buildings along the waterfront. Wolfe lurched onto his feet, listening intently. He heard the whispers, knew of their plan. But the Sheriff’s vow to protect Arden gave him hope. She wouldn’t come here, not if he could prevent it. Luke would arrive at any time to inform the vampyren that there would be no exchange, and if he were lucky, the pack would stick around to see him free.
“The Dhampir and the Warlock approach, sire,” he announced when he neared.
Wolfe growled low and bowed his head, studying the vampyren, unwilling to believe.
“You’re certain?” Taylor demanded. “You’re certain it’s her?”
The vampyren nodded. “It’s her.”
“Are they alone, as promised?”
“We’ve placed eyes all around the perimeter. There is no one else for two miles in either direction.”
Lucius spun around and glided toward the cage. Laughing arrogantly, he stopped at a safe distance from the bars. “I told you she would come, Lycae.”
Wolfe lunged for the bars and snarled, displaying fangs that wanted to rend the flesh from the vampyren’s bones. Lucian moved closer, and Wolfe snapped his jaws, snagging empty air. The vampyren’s caustic grin infuriated him, sending him into a teeth-flashing frenzy.
Then, the most delicious scent of honeysuckle and linen caressed the lining of his nose.
Chapter Thirteen
As Arden approached the dock, she found the circumstances cheesy, yet poetic. Her vow would end in the same place it had begun, in the harbor mortals now referred to as Dead Man’s Dock.
Her eyes flittered over the buildings, lingering on missing bricks here and there in the foundation. The place was much the same, only this time, there were no bodies littering the concrete with fresh blood and death.
“What are you thinking about?” Trevor whispered.
She smiled, turning to her friend as they walked to the meeting place that may or may not be the end of the line for both of them. A beard had begun to form, pervading the places left bare by his goatee.
“A vow long past,” she answered reflectively.
He returned her smile, but there was sadness and fear in his suddenly dark eyes. He averted his gaze and started to say something when she placed a hand on his shoulder. She knew what he wanted to say because she felt the same. They were two people forced to form a dysfunctional family on the foundation of grief and loss. Where one went, the other would surely follow.
“You don’t have to say it. I can see it in those big blue eyes of yours.” She mimicked his angry words from hours before and leaned over to kiss his darkly shadowed cheek. “Me too.”
Trevor stepped in beside her, mirroring her long strides. “So it’s come tae this. I thought that Lich would be the end of us, no’ a horde of vampyren.” He glanced at her. “Do you think we’ll make it?”
She shrugged and answered softly, “Maybe.�
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They walked for several more paces until the smell of salt water hung thick in the air, the crash of the waves smashing against the rocky surf and wooden beams loud and crisp.
“Do you think they’ll make it?” Trevor asked quietly, face forward and eyes focused.
Arden peered over her shoulder and gazed down the empty alley shadowed by darkness but revealed by light from the full moon.
She met Trevor’s curious eyes and answered, “Maybe.”
Violent snarls echoed from the dock, overriding the crash of the surf on the night tide, each vicious one snaking into her heart and crushing it painfully. She tried not to wince, knowing the time and place to console and pacify her captured beast would come if she kept her eye on the prize and her mind on the plan.