by Shea Malloy
He’d accepted his fate to no longer be free to bed the many willing females of Freize. He’d gritted his teeth and said goodbye to his days of freedom. Now, responsibility shackled him with a wife, and later on, when his dying father finally made his last howl, he would become Sor of Freize.
And then all that changed in a blink of a moment.
The moment when his fated mate fell from the heavens and landed at his feet as though the gods sent her, assuming the traditional pose of submission to her new husband.
Kozan bent and pulled the female into his arms, the pleasant warmth and sense of rightness enveloping him. Yes, she was his.
Unlike the pale skin of his people, hers was a smooth, dusky colour, her hair long, curly, and black like the darkest nights of Freize when even the Great Mother complained of the chill.
A black, slightly coarse material covered her upper half, its edges tucked into black leg coverings that looked similar to what the Ekalon warriors wore. Her strange clothing fitted her form, advertising her round, full breasts, plump stomach, and wide hips.
Her eyes remained closed. Before she’d fallen unconscious, Kozan had gotten a look at the rich light brown colour of her eyes. Overcome with the urge to smell her, he pressed his face against her neck and inhaled her. Though a stronger, bitter flavour masked it somewhat, her unique scent filled him with an indescribable bliss and a wave of possessiveness that made him growl.
“What is that?” asked Ryon, Seyeha’s uncle. He took a step back, his lined features twisted in disgust as he eyed the female in Kozan’s arms. Like Kozan’s father, his once pale skin had darkened to slate, his white hair sparse yet wild around his shoulders.
“My mate,” Kozan said in quiet awe as he stood with the female clutched tight in his grasp. The softness of her body pressed against him made him harden.
“Don’t be ridiculous, boy. Seyeha is your mate!” spat Ryon, jabbing a finger at Seyeha herself, who stood in her bridal furs just at the edge of the altar. She watched with curiosity and confusion on her face, as did the many Freizean attendants to the wedding ceremony. “Cast that filthy thing from your arms this instant!”
The wolf within him growled, demanding blood for Ryon’s blatant disrespect. Kozan gripped the female tighter in his arms. He advanced threateningly toward Ryon, who had the good sense to shuffle backward hastily.
“Mind your tongue, Ryon,” snapped Sor Vikon, his voice hoarse. His grip tightened on the wooden staff he used to keep his balance as he fixed Kozan with a steely-eyed look. “What’s the meaning of this, son Is this some trick—”
“No, Father, this is no trick,” Kozan said. He looked down at the female, then pinned his father with a determined stare. “I feel it for her as you did for Mother the first time you met. She is mine and I am hers.”
The other Freize attendants chattered with excitement. Finding one’s fated mate wasn’t uncommon, but it happened so infrequently that every instance was celebrated. Ryon, however, did not share this sentiment. He let out a sound of disdain.
“But she is not of Freize! And what of your promise to my niece?” He clamped a hand on Seyeha’s arm and yanked her forward forcefully. Seyeha grimaced, fury and hate flashing in her brilliant blue eyes before she masked it with a submissive bow of her head. Kozan settled his glare briefly on Ryon before directing his attention to his father once more.
“Father, this is no lie,” Kozan said. “This strange female is my fated.” He glanced at Seyeha, who, to Kozan’s surprise, gave him an encouraging smile. “And to marry another would do us all a disservice.” Then he knelt on one knee before his father, holding the sleeping female close to his chest. “But you are the Sor and if it is your will I uphold the marriage agreement to Seyeha of Pack Ryon, then so be it.”
Silence reigned, during which time Kozan came to the cold acceptance that his father would deny his wish to be with his fated mate and insist he marry Seyeha. The man was forever steeped in tradition and a Freizean—especially one next in line to be the Sor—mating with an outsider was a significant defiance of the Freizean way.
Finally, Sor Vikon’s raspy voice broke the silence.
“Rise, my son. It will not do to have the future Sor of Freize on bended knee to anyone.” Kozan got to his feet as Sor Vikon regarded the female in Kozan’s arms with a frown. Then he fixed Kozan with a hard stare. “When the female awakens, you will take her to the Great Mother, who will tell us if the female is capable of bearing your pups. If so, you are free to claim her as your mate.”
Kozan nodded, swallowing his surprise for his father’s uncharacteristic decision.
“Thank you, Father.”
“This is an injustice and an insult!” spat Ryon, his weathered, grey face a mask of indignation. Sor Vikon clamped a silencing hand on the man’s shoulder.
“Let us discuss this matter privately,” said Sor Vikon. He inclined his head at Seyeha. “Come, Seyeha. We will escort you to your home.”
“Yes, my Sor,” said Seyeha in respectful tones. She met Kozan’s gaze briefly and he murmured an apology to her.
“Do not apologize, my var Sor,” she said with a smile. “Finding one’s fated mate is a blessing from the gods one should never deny. I wish you nothing but happiness with your mate.”
With those parting words, she hurried away with his father and her uncle. Ignoring the inquisitive stares of the other Freizean attendants, Kozan made his way to his den with the sleeping female from another land still in his arms.
He found his servants had already prepared his den for his new wife. His old bedding furs had been switched out to something larger and softer, and a soft perfumed scent emanated from his steamed pool. He preferred plain water to bathe in, but he supposed today was a momentous occasion and required something different.
He lay the female down on his furs and eyed her sleeping form with curiosity and uncertainty. Even though she was fast asleep, gentle bumps spread out over her skin and she seemed to shiver. Perhaps she was cold. Freize was a land of perpetual ice and snow. Not many survived the temperatures save for his kind and the terrible ice water snakes that lived in the frozen Alahaz Lake.
This female would be no exception. She was remarkably tiny compared to him. Briefly, he wondered if she would even be able to take him when it was time for them to consummate their union. Though his wolf stirred with arousal at the thought of claiming her body, he focused on the most important matter at hand. He had to warm her up before she froze to death.
There was a row of diminutive, circular stones marching down the front of her garment. Though Kozan realized they were the key to undressing her properly, he was a male of little patience and large hands. Instead, he ripped the shirt from her body, uncaring of the stones flying every which way in his den. Some strange contraption covered her breasts, and he ripped that from her body too, freeing her glorious, full mounds to his hungry gaze. He fought the urge to touch them as he rid her of her leg and foot coverings, then another flimsy piece of cloth that covered her sex.
Kozan huffed out a breath of irritation that his female had been garbed in so many coverings. His kind often wore nothing save for the skin they were born with. It made shifting into their wolf forms more convenient. Clothing was only reserved for the colder days and special occasions. And even then, the most they consisted of were furs that were easy to remove.
She remained unconscious, only making soft little sounds in her sleep but not waking at all. Now that she was unveiled to him completely, Kozan stared at her naked, curvy form with open lust. Her full breasts were tipped dark brown and more than inviting, her stomach soft and slightly rounded, her hips wide and perfect for his hands to hold onto when it was time for them to mate. There was a light dusting of hair between her legs, and his wolf roared that he press his face there to smell her. That he wake her and claim her. It took a formidable amount of strength to ignore the demands of his inner animal. Instead, he lifted his mate into his arms and took her to the pool. He was a male w
ho took what he wanted whenever he wanted, but when it came to women, he preferred them awake and willing.
When it was time to claim his mate, she would be awake and wanting him just as much as he wanted her.
CHAPTER THREE
Ana
Hands slid down her arms. Wet. Warm. Comforting despite the intimacy. Her flesh tingled and grew hot from the touch and Ana let out a soft sigh of contentment. It had been so long since she’d been touched with such care. She hadn’t been with anyone in nearly a year since her last disaster of a relationship had exploded in her face.
Wet heat surrounded her body and a strong solid presence pressed close against her back. A pleasant warmth and sense that this was where she was meant to be all along filled her.
“Asa foriya?” The foreign words were spoken against her ear in a low, smooth voice that sounded like sex and chocolate rolled into one.
“Qué?” she said, softly. “What?”
She opened her eyes for the first time since she’d awoken. She was in a pool of some sort that was dug into the ground. Like a small lake. Confusion beset her at her unfamiliar surroundings. Judging from the gloominess and the earthen walls and ceiling, she was in some sort of… cave? Before she had a chance to look around further, those same hands slid down her waist, then up under her arms to cup her breasts.
Ana let out a sound of startled surprise as awareness finally caught up with her and some realizations were made clear:
1. She was naked.
2. She was not alone.
3. Whoever she was with was copping a feel of her tits.
Ana let out a scream and jerked away. She spun around to face a pale-skinned being with striking silver eyes and snow white hair.
He was male, yes, that much was obvious from his strong features, broad shoulders, and wide chest. But Ana wasn’t sure he was a human. There was definitely something otherworldly about him, and not just because of the blue markings all over his flesh.
“Who are you?” fired out of her mouth as she covered her breasts and scuttled back from him. “Where am I?”
The pool was not that large, and she found her back against the opposite side in a few backward steps.
He peered at her curiously then slid forward in the water effortlessly toward her. Dios mio, he was huge, every bit of him toned to perfection as though a sculptor had lovingly formed him over a time period spanning hundreds of years. No ounce of fat existed on him. He was all hard, delicious muscle, and Ana fought the sudden ridiculous urge to reach forward and touch one of his firm-looking pecs.
“Seya kassat,” he said. At least that was what she thought he said. He spoke in some language she’d never heard of and therefore couldn’t understand.
But that was the least of her worries. The man had... fangs. Pointy and sharp.
Definitely not human. So where the heck was she? She remembered being in the bathroom, then that Hausten guy giving her a gift-wrapped box that contained a watch. A magical watch that had clearly teleported her somewhere. Here. Then seeing this man—or maybe male, since he wasn’t human—before she’d passed out.
Ana pressed her fingers to her forehead and shook her head. How was any of this possible? Teleportation did not exist. This was the real world. Not some fantasy land filled with dragons.
But then again, here was this pale-skinned male being with fangs moving ever closer toward her.
“Seya kassat,” he said again, then he clamped a hand on her arm and dragged her to him.
Startled by the sudden heat and arousal that flowed through her body at his touch, Ana cried out again and wrenched away from him. She flung herself from the pool and was about to run when strong hands cinched around her waist and hauled her backward against a hard body.
“Let me go!” she wailed, beating her fists and kicking her legs as she was hauled up off her feet. Rational thought evaded her. All her mind told her was that she was in a strange place around a strange man, and God knew what his intention was with her. After all, she was naked, and by the firm thing that prodded her backside, clearly he was naked too.
The pale-skinned man spoke harshly in his strange language, then pushed her toward a nearby wall. He carried her like she weighed as much as a feather, and when he pushed her body against a wall, he trapped both of her wrists in one of his large hands and pinned them to the rough, earthen wall above her head.
Ana spat various swearwords at him as she squirmed and fought against his vice-like grip. She glared up into his startling silver eyes and was about to scream more epithets when the man growled, swooped down, and bit her neck.
The bite wasn’t hard or painful, but the prick of his fangs against her flesh subdued her immediately. A kind of trance befell her, and instead of fighting, an involuntary moan escaped her mouth as new heat flared to life in her body. Her nipples came to a point and wetness formed between her legs. Intense arousal swept through her body unlike anything she’d ever felt for another man.
“What did you just do to me?” Ana asked, her voice thick. He lifted his head to stare at her with a satisfied smirk on his lips. He spoke, then moved his lips to her neck again, licking the spot where he’d bit and nuzzling her. Her pussy squeezed with need and when the pale-skinned man’s hands reached up to cup one of her breasts, another soft whimper released from her lips.
“I don’t want this,” she said, more to herself than to him. But it was a lie. She wanted him fiercely. His cock was rubbing against her belly and she wanted nothing more than to have it deep inside her.
No, she said to herself. Then she said it out loud as she shook her head, fighting for control over her thoughts and her body. The man raised his head again to give her a questioning look, and Ana glared at him.
“Let me go.”
He frowned at her, then spoke some word to her. Nevertheless, he let her go and Ana immediately took off. She raced toward the bright light of the cave’s entrance, her heart beating fast with hope she’d escape and terror she wouldn’t. At least the man wasn’t chasing after her.
Wait, why wasn’t he chasing after her?
And then her answer slapped her in the face when she finally hit the exit and a blast of freezing cold air stung her skin. Ana cried out in horror as ice numbed her toes immediately. She retreated to the cave from which she’d just run, wrapping her hands around her breasts as she shivered.
He spoke, and though she couldn’t understand the words, she didn’t miss the universal note of ‘I told you so’ in his tone. Maybe that was what he was trying to tell her before he released her. He was warning her she shouldn’t try to escape because she couldn’t.
Ana spun around, tears forming in her eyes.
“I want to go home,” she said, crying.
The pale-skinned male gave her a look of confusion mixed with irritated concern as he handed her what looked like a robe made of patched furs. It smelled musty, but it protected her from the cold attacking her skin. Ana sniffled as she took it.
What a hopeless situation. She was trapped in some strange place with a strange being, and neither of them could understand each other. What was she to do?
“No, put me down!” she said, when he picked her up into his arms.
Of course, he didn’t do as she asked and she didn’t bother fighting him. She felt too tired to fight. At least he didn’t seem intent on hurting her. So when he laid her down on a thick cluster of soft furs, Ana stayed put. She rolled onto her side, hugging the musty robe tight around her body as she kept her back to him. He spoke again, yet Ana ignored him. A few moments after, when silence persisted, she turned and saw he was gone.
Ana contemplated trying to make a run for her escape again, but abandoned the idea as soon as it arrived. She had a sense the pale-skinned male was the only one who could help her find her home again. She resolved that when he returned, she’d find a way to acquire his help.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ana
Communicating what she wanted, Ana learned, turned out to
be far more difficult than she believed. When the pale-skinned male returned, despite her best efforts, the most they learned from each other was their names. After pressing her hand to her chest and saying her name, he’d mimicked her and said the word ‘Kozan.’
Kozan couldn’t speak English nor Spanish, and she couldn’t understand anything he said, either. She had a suspicion he knew what she wanted, because after her frustrated gesturing signifying she wanted to leave the cave they were in, he scowled at her, shook his head, and said that same phrase he’d spoken to her the first time. ‘Seya kassat’ or something like that. What did that even mean? ‘You’re stuck here forever?’ or ‘You’re my sex slave?’
She hoped it wasn’t the former, but a part of her was ashamed that the latter didn’t sound unappealing.
Her gaze skipped over his naked body, lingering a little too long on the monster between his legs. Her face heated and she diverted her stare. Kozan, despite his somewhat feral demeanour, was incredibly attractive. He was built like a god and unashamed to flaunt this fact. Whenever she looked at him, instead of being terrified out of her wits’ end, she had this inexplicable sense that being in the cave with him was where she was meant to be all along.
Which was ridiculous as all hell. He was a complete stranger, definitely not human, and kinda sorta not really her captor. Well, he didn’t stop her from leaving, but probably because he knew the bitter cold outside deterred her. She had no doubts that if the weather was far more favourable and she made a run for it, he’d chase her down and drag her back to this cave.
Besides, she’d known him for all of… she didn’t even know how long it was because she didn’t have any time-telling devices handy. And after what she’d went through with the last watch she’d had, she wasn’t keen on watches anymore.