What A Wolf Dares (Lux Catena Series Book 2)

by Amy Pennza

  Sophie swung back to her mother. “Oh, Mom.” A wail burst from her lips. She held her hands above her mother’s body. They trembled, as if she didn’t quite know what to do with them.

  Remy hurried over and knelt on the other side of Constance.

  “Sophie,” he said, getting her attention. “Talk to her.”

  Constance’s eyes were closed, but she smiled.

  “Okay,” Sophie said. “Okay, okay.” She dashed the tears from her eyes. “Mom?”

  Constance’s lips moved.

  “I-I can’t hear.” Sophie leaned down.

  Constance’s eyelids fluttered. She opened her eyes and looked at Sophie. “I love you, honey. Be happy.”

  Sophie’s face crumpled. “How can I be happy when you’re gone? Why did you do this?”

  “Your father and I had a good, long life together. It’s time for you now.”

  “No.” Sophie shook her head, but her mother was staring at something on the ceiling. Her brow furrowed.

  Remy looked up. There was nothing but stone arches and dust from the gunshot.

  Constance gasped. A beautiful smile transformed her face. “Sam?”

  Sophie followed her gaze. “What is she…”

  “Sam,” Constance said, her voice like a girl’s. “Sam.” She closed her eyes. Her chest went still.

  Sophie sat motionless. Tears streamed down her face and fell onto her mother’s body.

  Remy waited. He’d wait forever if he had to. As soon as she needed him, he was going to be there.

  After a few minutes, she lifted her gaze. “I thought I’d have more time. If one died… I thought I’d have more time.”

  “It happens that way sometimes,” he said, his heart breaking into a thousand pieces. “If mates have been together for many years.”

  “Yes,” she said, looking over at her father’s body. The Pennsylvania wolves stood around their fallen Alpha, their heads bowed. “They were together a long time.”

  Remy wanted to gather her into his arms. “She did it because she loved you. She knew your father better than anyone. He was never going to stop, chère.”

  “I know,” Sophie said. Her lower lip trembled. “I just wish there had been another way.”

  “Do you remember the first thing I ever said to you?”

  She nodded. “Of course I do. It’s what kept me going every time Asher—” She took a deep breath. “It’s what kept me going.”

  He rose and went to stand behind her. Gently, he pulled her to her feet and turned her into his chest.

  “Then let me say it again,” he murmured into her hair. “You’ll be all right. Everything will be all right.” He rubbed her soft curls. “No matter what, chère, everything will be all right.”

  21

  “Okay,” Remy said. “Blink once if you love me. Blink twice if you love me.”

  Sophie laughed. Since she was splayed across his body, the vibration shook his chest, too.

  He pretended to be annoyed. “I can’t tell what your answer is when you laugh like that.”

  “I don’t think it matters.” She toyed with a curl that had fallen over his ear. “You need a haircut.”

  “Oh yeah?” He sighed. “I’d get one, but there’s this woman who insists on keeping me prisoner.”

  Sophie raised her eyebrows.

  “In her bed,” he added.

  “You poor thing.”

  He dropped his voice to a scandalized whisper. “Like a sex slave.”

  “Seriously?” She snaked a hand under the sheets and found his cock. “You must be sore.”

  He put his arms behind his head. “I probably need a salve or…” She stroked him, and he groaned. “…Something.”

  “Well,” she said, sliding her wicked fingers up and down his shaft. “I don’t have any salve.” She squeezed the base, then slid her fist back up to the head. “But I do have…something.”

  He bit his lip. “In that case, Mrs. Arsenault, I’ll take a thousand of your somethings.”

  Blue rolled over her brown eyes. Her nipples tightened against his chest. “Are you sure a thousand will be enough?” She made another long, leisurely stroke.

  He groaned. “I’ll put it on auto-renewal. Like Amazon.”

  She slid down his chest, taking the sheet with her.

  He lifted his head up, unable to resist watching her settle her succulent body between his thighs. She sat on her heels, her full breasts and neat thatch of curls on display.

  “Change that order to five thousand somethings,” he said.

  She gathered her hair to one side, then bent and took him into her mouth.

  Heat enveloped his cock. He let his eyelids slide shut. “I guess I’ll just lie back and think of England,” he said weakly.

  She made an amused sound around his shaft. Then she sucked at the head, and he forgot his own name for a minute.

  When he could once again form a coherent thought, he reached down and tangled his fingers in her hair. He was the luckiest son of a bitch who ever lived. Of that, he was certain. It had been two months since that day in the Pit, and he’d spent every minute of it enjoying Sophie.

  After the challenge, Hamish collected Asher and took him back to Vermont. Rumor had it Asher had recovered, but it didn’t really matter. No pack would accept an Alpha who lost a challenge. Even if Asher managed to talk without drooling on himself, he would never lead his father’s pack.

  He’d never bother Sophie again, either.

  Watching her blossom under her newfound freedom had been one of the two most rewarding experiences of Remy’s life.

  The other? Well, that had to be the night he made her his forever.

  They cemented their bond in the cabin, where it had all begun. He cooked her dinner. Then they undressed each other in front of the fire, exploring each other’s bodies like it was the very first time. When he couldn’t wait any longer, he cupped her face in his hands.

  “I’m worried about biting you,” he confessed.

  Her eyes widened. “Why?”

  He hated to say it, but he had to. “Asher.”

  She rose on her tiptoes and kissed him. “He’s nothing but a memory, Remy. You made sure of that.”

  His chest swelled like he just emerged victorious from battle. “Mental toughness.”

  “It counts for something,” she said, a smile in her voice.

  When she was ready, he bit her on her wrist. She might claim the past didn’t bother her, but he wasn’t about to mark her where Asher had inflicted his abuse.

  As it turned out, he needn’t have worried. As soon as his fangs pierced her skin, she dropped her head back and moaned. Her pink nipples jutted out from her breasts, begging for attention.

  A woman who found his bite erotic? Yeah, he was a lucky bastard.

  They spoke their vows on the rug in front of the fire, sweat cooling on their skin as they came down from an earth-shattering orgasm. Still lodged inside her, he gazed into her eyes.

  “My life for yours,” he said.

  She brushed her palm along his jaw. “My life for yours.”

  A thousand whispers rose around them—the rush of voices so soft and indistinct, not even a Seeker had the skill to discern the words. They built, spiraling higher and higher, filling the room. The fire burst upward, the flames shooting high and burning red-hot.

  The cabin’s front door flew open, the blinds clinking against the windows as a warm breeze swept the room. It tugged at Sophie’s hair, sighing through the golden strands as if it liked her. The whispering voices caught the wind, spinning in a tight funnel before sucking up the chimney with a whooshing sound.

  The fire blew out. The room went still.

  Remy looked down at Sophie. “I guess we’re mated.”

  Her eyes twinkled. “I guess we are.”

  Sophie cupped his balls, hurtling him back to the present in the sweetest way possible. He combed his fingers through her hair, spreading the waves across his belly. Her head bobbed up
and down his shaft, each pass tightening the coil of desire.

  Heat built between his legs. His hips jerked, bumping her chin. God, he was like a randy teenager with her.

  She squeezed his balls gently, massaging the sensitive skin.

  “Ungh.” Sweat broke out on his forehead…his chest. He abandoned her hair so he could grip the sheets on either side of him.

  All the while, she kept up her steady pace, her curls flying as she sucked him off, her luscious tits jiggling. He followed them like one of those bouncing balls that led people through the lyrics of a song. Up and down. Up and down. Between her legs, he got elusive glimpses of her clit, the pink nub shining with her juices.

  She got to the top of his shaft and stopped. Then she teased her tongue into the slit there, drawing pre-cum from the tip.

  Holy shit. He squeezed his ass cheeks together so he didn’t lose it.

  With her other hand, she fondled his balls.

  Well, so much for that strategy. “Sophie,” he gasped. He bucked helplessly. “Can’t…hold…out.”

  She murmured around his head. Then she swirled her tongue around the tip once more and resumed pumping his shaft in and out of her mouth.

  He threw his head back and gave in to the current threatening to sweep him away. Pressure built in his balls. His heartbeat thundered in his cock. The warm mouth on his dick sucked greedily, tossing him higher and higher into the abyss.

  Oh, but it was a beautiful abyss. He shouted and jumped into it.

  The coil in his belly flew apart. He spurted into her mouth, grunting as he thrust his hips up again and again.

  She took every drop, swallowing each jet as he pumped furiously. She stroked his balls, cradling them while he gave her everything he had.

  At last, he was spent. His heart tried to gallop out of his chest.

  Sophie sat up. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips red from her efforts. She wiped a drop of semen from her chin and sucked her finger into her mouth.

  French—or, hell, maybe it was some made-up language—spilled from his lips.

  She put her head to one side. “I didn’t understand any of that.”

  “Neither did I.” He heaved himself up, grabbed her, and pulled her down next to him. She cuddled against his chest, her long body a perfect match for his.

  “That reminds me of something,” she said suddenly.

  Huh? He blinked, his eyes bleary. It was going to be a full six hours before he was good for anything besides basic caveman grunts.

  She rose up on one elbow. “Down in the Pit, before you fought Asher, Max called me something.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Someone give him a prize because he just strung two whole words together.

  “He called me…” She blushed, shy with the unfamiliar pronunciation.

  He gave her nose a playful tap. “Go on.” Christ, how dumb was he? He could have used Telepathy from the beginning.

  “He called me ‘une femme courageuse.’”

  A smile spread through him. He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. “Ah, you are indeed, Sophie Arsenault. You are indeed a courageous woman.”

  Her brown eyes sparkled. “Yeah. I kind of am, aren’t I?”

  She sure was. Somehow, she’d thrived in spite of her father’s neglect—like a flower blooming in the desert. Word of her bravery in standing up to Samuel Gregory had spread. A few times, wolves from her father’s pack had called the cabin, asking for her advice. Gunnar, who had been named Alpha, had taken to checking in with her before he made big decisions.

  His trust in her had given her a new sense of confidence—and it was sexy as hell.

  Remy captured her hand and brought it to his mouth. “Courageous,” he said, kissing it. “Beautiful.” He gave her knuckles another kiss, and she laughed. “Smart.” He kissed the inside of her wrist. “Funny.” He flipped her under him in one smooth motion.

  She looked impressed. “That was fast. Maybe you’re really a Finder in disguise.”

  “Well, I am pretty special.”

  She caressed his jaw. “And you’re mine.”

  “Oh yes,” he said in her mind. “I’m yours.”

  * * *

  An Excerpt from What a Wolf Desires

  Want to read more about Maxime and Lizette? Check out this sneak peek of What a Wolf Desires, the first book in the Lux Catena Series.

  She smelled them before she hit the first stair leading up to her third-floor apartment.

  She gripped the railing and tilted her head, testing their scents—sifting through the subtle differences that made each one unique. Five males—two of them familiar. The mix of peppermint and lemon-lime energy drink belonged to her cousin, Remy Arsenault. The more understated pine-and-leather combo could only be Dominic Prado, Remy’s best friend. The other three were strangers.

  She eased down into a slight crouch and calculated the distance from the building to her car.

  Even if she made it, Lizette Butler knew today was going to be a very bad day. She took a deep breath, tensed, and prepared to run.

  “Don’t,” a deep, rich voice said from behind her apartment door. The low, almost hypnotic tone could only belong to Dom. “You won’t get far,” he added.

  Anger boiled up. She surged to her feet. The metal railing under her hand made a pained squealing noise as it bent. She lifted her hand away and carefully patted the abused metal. “Sorry,” she whispered to it. She’d have to slip a note and some money under Tommy’s door later. He was a decent landlord, and he didn’t deserve to pay for her lack of control, even if she had a good excuse.

  “Any day now,” Remy said. Even with distance and the door between them, she could hear the undercurrent of laughter.

  Make that a very good excuse.

  She trudged up the stairs and down the short hall, not bothering to muffle her footsteps. The men in her apartment could have heard a mouse running along the floor. She stopped before the door and stared at the shiny brass 309 tacked on the muddy brown steel.

  From inside, Dom said, “It does no good to avoid what you fear, Lizette.”

  She opened the door and tossed her keys on the table in the tiny foyer. “Who says I’m afraid of you?”

  Dom leaned against the white mantle above the fireplace, the can lights in the ceiling making his black hair glint blue in places. Her cousin Remy lounged in the oversized stuffed chair she’d artfully draped with an ocean blue throw—at least she hoped it was artful. Magazines always made the casual throw blanket thing look so easy. Most of the time, hers looked like someone used it and forgot to put it away.

  The other three males were the muscle, she supposed—grunts sent to deliver the message or order of the day. They weren’t even trying to look friendly or unassuming. Two stood in identical poses in front of the glass sliders, arms folded, legs braced slightly apart. One brushed past her and stopped by the door.

  Blocking the exit.

  She swept a hand toward him and the two by the sliders. “Triplets?” she asked, her voice dripping sweetness.

  Dom cleared his throat. “Your heart sped up when you scented us,” he said, responding to her first question. “That makes you prey. You’ve forgotten all your lessons.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Yeah, well, I generally don’t come home to such an impressive show of force. What’s with the welcome wagon? You boys looking to escape the great white north? Sorry, but I’m pretty sure all the apartments here are taken, although it’s charming to think of the five of you as roommates.” She snapped her fingers. “Hey, you could pitch an idea for a sitcom!”

  Remy grinned and got to his feet, his green eyes twinkling. He stretched his big arms over his head, the movement making his dark gray T-shirt ride up to reveal the bottom of an impressive six-pack, and his fingers nearly grazed the nine-foot ceiling. He crossed the small room and enveloped her in a big bear hug that lifted her feet off the floor.

  “Hey!” She thumped his shoulder, which was about as effective as kicking a mountain
. Usually people were too intimidated by his size to notice his supermodel good looks. His dirty blond hair flowed back from his forehead in a tumble of curls women would kill for, and it was disheveled most of the time—a combination of infrequent haircuts and his habit of running his fingers through it when he was thinking.

  “Sorry.” He lowered her to the ground and then patted her head. “I’ve missed you. You’re the only one with the balls to tease Dominic.”

  “Thanks…I think.” She rubbed her crown. She and Remy needed to have a talk about “nice petting” versus “accidentally killing your pet.”

  One of the males by the sliders spoke. “We’ll have time for reunions later. We should leave now.” He looked her up and down, his dark eyes disapproving. “As soon as she changes into something appropriate.”

  She glanced down at her skinny jeans and cream-colored sweater. What was he complaining about? Sure, the sweater was form-fitting, but it didn’t show any skin. If anything, her outfit was modest compared to what most people wore on campus. Her job as a teaching assistant didn’t have a dress code, but the students seemed to respect her more when she looked like a professor instead of a TA in ripped jeans and sweatshirts. She met the male’s eye and crossed her arms, mirroring his pose. “You’re right, you should leave. Now.”

  Remy opened his mouth, but Dom cut him off before he could speak. “Aiden.” His voice was quiet, but it carried unmistakable authority. The man who’d slut-shamed her bowed his head.

  It was an impressive display of power, and if Remy had done it, she would have whistled and slow-clapped. But things were different with Dom. She held her breath when he turned his gaze to hers. He wasn’t here for a social call or a family reunion. There was only one reason why five males from her pack were in her apartment, and it wasn’t a good one.

  At least not for her.

  Dom pushed away from the mantel and stood with his hands at his sides, ready for a chase. Or a fight. “We will leave, but you’re leaving with us.”