Damaged Goods

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Damaged Goods Page 7

by Rena Marks


  Touching was unheard of from their Iota Nine culture. Even Kieran knew this fact and yet Lady Danielle willingly touched Potierre in front of their mother, who looked shocked as all get out. Earth-Ground was a bit of a bad influence for the younger Holland ladies.

  In his mind, Alannah heard that. She sent him a teasing grin.

  The mother opened her mouth to speak, but the younger daughter—Ana, moved closer to her, distracting her. The two sisters had a system worked out, Kieran realized. They buffered the mother’s moods toward each other. But who had buffered Alannah? This part he was sure to keep from the edges of her mind.

  “So tell me what it was like to work at The Bella,” Ana said as Alannah moved to the opposite sofa, Vien on one side of her. Jealously, he settled near Alannah’s legs, making sure Vien noted his closeness. Ana reached out and scratched his neck. “Was it wonderful?” Her tone was somewhat wistful.

  “There was quite a sense of accomplishment each day,” Alannah said. “Honestly, it was the best thing ever.”

  “Hmm,” Cynthia said. “And yet look at all the trouble getting a job brought you. You’re being hidden here for safety, within this city of misfits.”

  “Mother,” Ana gasped, her eyes on Vien.

  “No offense,” Cynthia said to him, her tone indicating that she didn’t care one way or the other.

  “No offense taken,” Vien said coolly. “You’re a lady from Iota Nine, bred with impeccable manners. I know you would never insult the host of the home you’re in.”

  Kieran allowed a snort to come from him because he knew he was the only one who could get away with it. Alannah’s hand came around automatically to scratch his throat.

  “Of course not.” Cynthia’s nose rose up into the air.

  “Tea’s up,” Danielle called airily as she and Potierre strode into the room.

  “Surely you’re not going to keep that beast in here while we enjoy our tea?” Her mother’s eyes narrowed on Alannah. “He’ll probably get hair in the scones.”

  “He goes where I go,” Alannah said easily. “Besides which, this is his home. We’re not on Iota Nine anymore, mother.”

  The mother’s face reddened. Before she could burst into a tirade, Danielle narrowed her eyes at Alannah. “I’d think the least you could do since disrupting our lives with a forced trip here is wear a wig. A veil. Anything to keep things a bit more civilized. If not for yourself, remember that your looks affect mother’s reputation. Her family lines are strong.”

  Kieran could barely curb his anger. She and the younger sister protected each other but threw Alannah to their mother’s mercy?

  “Civilized kept me suffering in silence for my entire life. But you wouldn’t know how painful that was, would you, dear sister? Since a lady doesn’t talk about her pain. She simply does what she must to keep embarrassment from the family.”

  “Pain? It was discomfort, sure.”

  Alannah snorted.

  “Mind your manners,” her mother snapped. “You sound like your mutt is rubbing off on you.”

  So the mother did notice his occasional snorts. Though she didn’t connect the timing to when they were uttered. Each time she said something ludicrous.

  “It was continual pain,” Alannah gritted through her teeth. “Searing, burning, debilitating pain. Constant dizziness. Headaches that I had to pretend weren’t there. Nausea that kept me fashionably thin. And you want to know how I know the difference between discomfort and pain? Because for the first time in my life I’m finally pain free.”

  “Alannah.” Ana tutted as though her sister was being melodramatic. “It wasn’t like we had you on drugs. It was just a script for B vitamins. A high dose, yes—”

  “It was massive amounts of B vitamins—and other ingredients. Who knows what that concoction equaled? Amounts that were harming my liver and kidneys. Amounts so high it wasn’t even legal for me to take them. You three had to get scripts in your name so the liquid could be super-concentrated. Except the liquid wasn’t used by an entire family. It was all ingested by me. One person. Why? To keep people from knowing about my horrendous coloring? All we had to do was get a license to change it.”

  “But people would have known,” Danielle said, though her voice was a bit weaker.

  “So what?”

  “Ex-excuse me?”

  “So what if people had known I was licensed to color my hair?”

  “That’s scandalous,” her mother snapped. “We’ll stop this discussion immediately.”

  The squabbling siblings immediately stopped speaking. It was interesting that the mother never answered as to why it was such a horror to be known as a family with a hair color-change license.

  Alannah leaned back and Kieran dropped his head into her lap, looking up at her. She smiled at him, a bit sadly, as she stroked the top of his head lovingly.

  “Our apologies for airing out our dirty laundry in your home,” Cynthia said primly to Vien and Potierre, hardly acknowledging their response as she sipped her tea like a melodramatic victim.

  That was the end of that. But the conversation made Alannah’s sisters think a bit about the situation, if the distracted uneasy silence was any indication.

  He let a small whine out of his throat, loud enough to signal Vien.

  “Yes, your…pet is right, Lady Alannah. It is time for your rest.” He turned toward Cynthia and her two daughters. “She is in an extreme state of anemia from the withdrawal of her meds. It will take a couple of months to get her energy levels up. Until then, rest is a constant need. Do please excuse us.” He extended his arm out to help Alannah up and for the first time, jealousy hit Kieran that it couldn’t be him to help her. A soft growl came from him and damn if Vien didn’t look smug.

  Bastard.

  “Mother. Sisters. May the light shine brightly upon the rest of your day.”

  “Peace be with you, Alannah,” Ana whispered. Apparently the manners were enough for only one of their family to utter the phrase.

  As Alannah rose with Vien’s help, Kieran close on her heels, he couldn’t help but notice the two sisters who watched her slow progress. And the mother who didn’t.

  Before they reached the top of the stairs, the mother called out.

  “Alannah?”

  “Mother?”

  “When I return and Wilson is cleared of wrongdoing, you’ll be required to return to him to fulfill your family obligations.”

  “I won’t be returning to Wilson,” Alannah said. “I realized finally that a life with him would be miserable. I’d rather remain single.”

  “Life for a throwback is miserable,” her mother snapped. “Just be glad he didn’t insist on children. Can you imagine how hideous your offspring will be?”

  Her spine stiff, Alannah responded, “Yes. I do.”

  Chapter Ten

  “WELL, THAT WASN’T half as bad as it could have been,” Alannah said, closing the door to their suite after Vien shuddered and said he had to return to rescue Potierre.

  Kieran huffed. It was every bit as bad as he’d imagined. He wasn’t sure how someone as wonderful as Alannah came from such a shrew of a woman.

  She took off her dress and lay across the top of the bed in her thin under-thing. “Come on,” she said, patting the bed.

  He froze. The sunlight shone in from the window and showed the transparency of her clothing. She undressed in front of him so often it was obvious she didn’t think of him as anything but a pet, despite knowing who he was. And as a pet, she loved him unconditionally…but he couldn’t be there for her like Vien and Potierre. He couldn’t help her up the stairs. He couldn’t change this form at will. How he’d managed to get this way was beyond him, but at least it saved her from looking at his ugly mug. But those smooth-mannered males, Vien and Potierre—jealousy continued to heat along his spine as he thought of how she appreciated their fun together. He could never be fun for her. Even if he could change from the wolf, he wouldn’t.

  “What are you thinking
about?” she asked softly.

  You. Half-naked. And me being here with you.

  “Is it wrong to think of us being alone in another way, Kieran? As a man and a woman?”

  Yes. I’ll scare you.

  “You won’t.”

  I can’t show you what I look like. Even if I were able—

  “Dammit, Kieran, look at me! Just look. My own mother calls me ugly. Did you think Lord Wilson Nolan was a gentle lover for someone’s first time? He wasn’t. My sisters are ashamed of me enough to go along with her wishes. My father died after changing my looks.”

  No. How could she think she was ugly? You are from a place of light and beauty. Of rules. I am from the bowels of Earth. Your ugliness doesn’t even compare to me. Lord Wilson Nolan was her ex. He had a name. Kieran refused to think of an innocent young virgin taken by anyone but him. He would have made sure she was prepared. He would have taken her in the dark so she wouldn’t have had to see his ugly face. He would have worshipped her with his tongue, his fingers. He would have given her countless orgasms and made sure her body was stretched with his fingers so a cock would only have brought pleasure.

  “I think I see.” Something had changed in her voice. “If you’re not attracted to me, just say so. If you’re in love with the idea of love, or of rescuing the poor sponsored female, just say so. Don’t pretend there’s anything else between us. I’ve been through that before.”

  Been through what? He couldn’t imagine what she meant.

  “Do you know what I went through to find a man who was interested in me?”

  What do you mean? He asked inside her mind.

  “She advertised. Put an ad out there like I was a horse. Good teeth, good breeding, good education. A strong worker. Submissive; a female who knows her place. Wilson answered the ad immediately. At first I was excited.” Her voice turned dreamy. “He was handsome. Rich. A lord. And then I met his mother. I knew I could never live up to her because I was a front. A fake. His mother assumed I was there to give them grandchildren. But Wilson didn’t want children. He just wasn’t man enough to stand up to his mother. So he answered the ad and the only one who knew the reason of why I was really there was me. But what did I have to endure? I can still feel his touch and it makes my skin crawl. The abuse of his mother, calling me hideous, even though my looks were respectably passable back then. Calling me a scarecrow because of my sickly weight, mocking my illness, even though I was strong enough to endure daily pain. In fact, the more I got to know Wilson, the more I was convinced he was excited by my pain. The first abuse from his mother made him take my virginity that very night and it was harsh.”

  What?

  “It was in her home. And the next morning? She knew. She told me how it was best to provide an heir and move into another bedroom once the test was positive because I’d never be good enough for her son. Then she even suggested it would be convenient if I didn’t survive the childbirth.”

  He stared at her in disbelief.

  “I realize now she was trying to take my strength away. My will to live. She taunted me with the fact that she would be the one to raise my child. That Wilson was her only offspring and she’d always wanted another. And of course, Wilson couldn’t resist giving her anything his dear mother wanted.”

  A pup raised away from his parent? No one could love an innocent like the one who brought it into the world. He wasn’t sure if he believed her or not. But rage filled him as her words continued.

  “She mocked me. Said that surely with Wilson’s better looks, the gene pool would favor him. I would be but a memory that would fade fast from everyone’s hearts, including that of my child. It made no difference what the sex of the baby would be. For a boy—he would be raised just like Wilson. To honor her. To love her. To put her on a pedestal before all others. And a girl? Well, girls had but one purpose. To create offspring. So in a decade and a half, she could try again anyway. She’d offer my daughter her freedom for producing an offspring and giving it to her.”

  He saw red. His breath was coming in harsh pants and something crawled along his spine. A burn. No, more than that. Hatred. Raw, unadulterated fury. If the female was anywhere near him right now, he’d tear her flesh to shreds.

  “And if my child didn’t produce a male? She’d never get her freedom. She’d be kept like a breeding mare, bred every nine months until a male was produced. If it took twenty years, so be it.”

  His amber eyes blazed gold as he locked his eyes to hers and then suddenly hunched inward with a grimace. A sharp pain wracked through his body.

  “Her eyes turned really crazy then, and I saw what was inside her. She giggled behind her fingers and said they could probably wipe out my genes—if that little girl was bred with their own line. I was too naïve to understand at first that she meant with her father.”

  A smatter of pops like snapping bones sounded and an agonized grunt that should have been an agonized shriek except he didn’t want to call attention outside this room to his change.

  His wolf was desperate and scared and clawing, fighting to remain. The beast was sure he’d never be allowed in again and he wasn’t about to leave. Hundreds of pops cracked up his spine, burning like a live wire of electricity had been laid across the bloody open wounds. His back straightened into a human line, the fur sucking inside his body and clogging him. He felt stuffed full of unbreathable cotton before it was absorbed.

  For a moment, the wolf refused to allow his arms and legs to retreat. It took sheer will and another fresh wave of pain to shatter the bones so they could lengthen and reform. And then his face broke, his snout smothering him painfully as his jaw re-cracked back into his hideous original form he’d worn since being awakened on the island of the underground labs.

  When it was done, he stayed in place and turned his head to each side to crack the bones in his neck.

  Alannah’s eyes popped wide as she raked her gaze down the cords of thick muscle in his neck, following down over the beautiful bulk of his perfectly shaped shoulders. His abs flexed sharply with every breath and his arms were rippling with sinewy ropes of muscle.

  Her heart pounded in her chest as she took a tentative step toward him. He wouldn’t hurt her. It was still Kieran—her friend. He was lowered to all fours, the side profile of his entire gorgeous naked form on display. Her eyes traced the long line of his body, the curve of his hip and bent leg that hid the front of him. The portion that she was slightly curious about and that shamelessly quickened her heartbeat.

  Don’t look at me. I’m a monster.

  “You’re not a monster to me,” she whispered. “Not at all.”

  Then his head turned and that familiar amber gaze was back on her, but this time in the face of a man. A scarred man, his features too hard to be handsome. Too sharp. His eyes too wary. But he was hers. Man or beast, he was always hers. Familiar. Connected.

  Is it okay? He used his mental link. He still didn’t want to scare her, as if his human voice might be too much, too different. But there was hope in that mental thought, hope that she wouldn’t find him too unattractive. Whatever must he think of himself?

  “I’m not scared, Kieran.”

  His eyes softened as he held still in front of her, close enough that she could reach out and touch his skin.

  Pursing her lips, she held out her hand the way she always did. And the way he always had in wolf form, he sank his face into her open palm as he leaned into her touch as if he craved it. A long shuddering sigh escaped him, as though he’d never been touched his whole life.

  Now, everything had changed between them.

  She fought the urge to grab him and pull him toward her. She didn’t want to scare him with her ferociousness. But he seemed to sense her needs. She hadn’t shut down the mental link between them in time.

  His mind touched hers; the same desperation and need tracing through her from him. He needed her to accept him. And she needed to soothe him, to accept him, too. She pulled his head into her chest. His sk
in was surprisingly warm, so heated, and the moment was surreal. Her wolf, her pet. He was a man.

  He was every inch a man, unconcerned with the long, thick erection that jabbed from between his legs.

  Holy cow. His huge, perfect, monstrous cock. It was enormous, darker than the rest of him, flushed red like it was angry. Shiny at the tip with moisture that seeped.

  Sexy, sexy man.

  He lifted his head and opened his mouth to speak. Afraid of what he might say, she crashed her mouth to his. She just wanted him to feel. Feel how perfect this moment was together. He froze for an instant before kissing her back.

  His mouth took over, swerving over hers, his tongue dipping between her lips to taste her. A growl came from deep inside him as she swiped her tongue against his, tasting him as deeply as he tasted her. There was an agonized frenzy between them, a need that wouldn’t be satiated until they came together. A fury, a desperation to complete this.

  His hands fisted in the thin fabric of her slip and yanked, shredding it with his claws.

  Claws.

  He still had claws.

  She should be scared but she wasn’t. Instead, it was a weird bit of turn-on. She knew he was just as excited to find she had no bra or panties under the slip. She was as naked as he was without the thin barrier covering her.

  He lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist, squeezing him with her thighs, rubbing her hot center against the magnificent abs she’d seen earlier. He was so very warm. His warm, wonderful skin, finally against hers.

  He tore his mouth away to mutter, “If I have you, I’ll need you more than once.”

  “I know.” She shivered, desperate for that, too.

  He laid her on the bed, triumph shining in his brilliant gold eyes. She studied his body the same way he studied hers. Goddess, she’d left a shiny spot on his abs from rubbing herself against him like a wanton hussy.

  He looked down to see what she stared at and pure male satisfaction roved across his face. His quivering hand reached for the liquid and rubbed into it.

 

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