by Tara West
She felt his frustration as he growled into her mouth. He wanted two hands to explore both breasts at once. Instead he ripped open the buttons on her shirt, exposing her breasts to the elements.
She arched her back while he rubbed one bare breast, then the other. The feel of his skin branding hers was so exquisite, so perfect, how could he think he wouldn’t be able to please her?
When he trailed kisses across her chin and down her neck, his lips finding the hard peak of one nipple, she sighed, cupping his head while he sucked her.
“That’s it, Magnus,” she begged. “Please, please don’t stop.”
He answered with a grunt, then kissed her from her breasts to her navel.
Her legs fell open when he kissed her mound, nuzzling her tight button and then kissing and nibbling the tender spot until it swelled with need.
She opened her eyes in surprise when she felt two hands spread her thighs. Magnus’s second alpha brother, Raine, flashed a wicked grin before scraping her thigh with sharp fangs. She tensed, then relaxed, when his teeth grazed her just enough to make that ache between her thighs unbearable.
Her legs spread like melted butter, her eyes rolling into the back of her head when Magnus began to suckle her sweet spot like a calf trying to draw milk, swirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh and making her cry to the heavens.
When two familiar men knelt beside her, she held out her arms to them, giggling when they nuzzled her neck and toyed with her breasts.
Magnus pulled away and sat back on his heels, frowning while his brothers lavished her with kisses.
“Magnus,” she called, waving him toward her.
He didn’t move, resting a hand on his knee and hiding the arm with the missing hand behind his back.
“Magnus,” she cajoled. “It’s okay. Please come to me.”
But he sat as still as stone, lines etched deep into his face.
She was about to call to him again, then sucked in a sharp hiss when Raine slid a thick finger into her pussy. She cried out when he tunneled into her while stroking her inner thigh with the other hand. His brothers continued to nibble on her breasts and neck. She wanted to call to Magnus to join them, but the pleasure was suddenly so intense, she could barely breathe, much less speak.
Raine’s finger hit a magic spot that awakened every nerve ending in her body, lighting her on fire from the inside out. With a low growl, his eyes shifted from chestnut to a blinding gold as he fucked her harder, faster. Her climax came without warning, the impact so cataclysmic, she was paralyzed beneath his touch, crying out Raine’s name and then shuddering when she fell over the edge, her pussy throbbing against his fingers like a heartbeat.
Raine let out a low, deep chuckle before falling on top of her, the tip of his thick erection pressing into her swollen juncture.
She blinked at him and placed a hand on his chest. “We can’t have sex.”
He arched a thick brow. “Why not? Are you the only one who gets pleasure?”
“No, but I know the rules. Head alpha goes first.” She nodded to Magnus, who simply sat there, a lone tear sliding down his cheek. “Magnus,” she said. “Do something!”
But he simply blinked at her, saying nothing.
She squirmed under Raine, trying to scoot away, swearing when his brothers pinned her down.
“Hey!” she cried. Then she yelled when his face shifted to that of his drunken father, Vidar.
She shifted, snarling at him when he refused to back down, her senses overwhelmed by the putrid stench of stale whiskey. When he lunged for her, she lashed out, grabbing Vidar’s neck and giving him a good, hard shake. Coughing and sputtering, she spit out a mouthful of feathers. When her eyes shot open, it took her a moment to realize she had a pillow in her mouth, or what was left of it. She spun on the bed when Tor burst through her door as a ten-foot beast.
“Annie, what’s wrong?”
Whimpering, she tucked her tail between her legs, looking around at the mess of feathers everywhere.
“I think she had a nightmare.” Ioana ducked under Tor’s massive arm and sat beside Annie, stroking her neck.
She cringed as the entire Coyotechaser family, kids included, gathered in her doorway and the hall. How embarrassing.
“Go, everyone!” Ioana shooed them away like they were stray dogs. “Give a girl some privacy.”
When they left her alone with Ioana, she sighed in relief and shifted back into human form, digging under the covers for her nightgown, which was in tatters.
Ioana handed her an oversized T-shirt from her suitcase. “Is everything okay?”
She slipped the shirt on over her head. “I had a bad dream.”
“What happened in it?” Ioana threw her a pair of underwear.
A shudder coursed through her as she remembered how much her mates’ touch had aroused her. “My mates were touching me.” Averting her eyes, she slipped into her undies, hoping the thin cotton would be enough to soak up the moisture between her legs.
Ioana arched a brow, a subtle smirk tugging at her lips. “And?” You go girl, Ioana’s thought projected into Annie’s head.
How fucking humiliating. Ioana knew she’d had a wet dream.
She looked around the room, anywhere but into Ioana’s assessing gaze. “Magnus pulled away when Raine tried to have sex with me.” She shivered again and rubbed warmth into her arms. “Then Raine turned into their father. He tried to rape me, and Magnus did nothing to help me.”
Resting a hand on Annie’s arm, Ioana searched her eyes. “I think he would help if it ever came to that.”
“It felt so real.” She bit her lip, repulsed by the memory of Vidar’s hands on her. Even though it had only been a dream, she still felt unclean, soiled by his touch.
“It’s natural to dream about your mates,” Ioana said. “I had several about mine before we bonded.”
“But what about the part with their father?”
Ioana grimaced. “Well, that part was unusual, though the man is frightening, so I can see why you’d have that sort of dream. Nothing to be ashamed of.” Ioana flashed a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Do you think they have dreams about me?” Annie clutched her chest, imagining what she’d be doing in their dreams.
Ioana’s grin turned positively wicked. “I know they do.”
She wondered if their erotic dreams had also ended badly. “I hope they defended me in their dreams.”
Ioana looked away. Her silence wasn’t reassuring.
TIRED OF STARING UP at the ceiling and thinking depressing thoughts, Annie finally dragged herself out of bed. The morning sun was barely peeking over the horizon when she stumbled into the kitchen.
The open room with the new white cabinets and a breakfast bar that faced the living room was devoid of people, save for Tor and Van, who were sitting at the counter, elbows resting on the gray granite, clutching steaming cups of coffee while they eyed her expectantly. Figured they’d be awake at the butt-crack of dawn. She was beginning to wonder if they ever slept, or if they simply haunted her door, making sure the boogie man didn’t run off with her. She eyed the sofas where they’d spent the night. Their blankets were neatly folded on the edge of an armrest, their backpacks tucked away in a corner of the room. They’d hardly left a trace of their existence, while Annie had shredded her host’s pillow and woken everyone up in the middle of the night.
“How did you sleep?” Tor asked.
She shrugged, knowing full well they knew she’d had an erotic dream. There was nothing those two didn’t know. “Meh.”
Tor cleared his throat. “We’ve received word from the Wolfstalkers.”
Her breath caught in her throat, and she gaped at him like a deer caught in highbeams. “And?”
“We’ve been invited to dinner,” Tor said without inflection.
Her erratic heartbeat came to a grinding halt. “When?”
Tor gave her a stony-eyed look. “Tonight.”
Annie
stiffened. “I’m not going over there.”
Van arched a brow. “You want to negotiate peace, don’t you?”
She crossed her arms, pent-up anger making her temples ache. “I want better mates.”
“You don’t even know them yet.” Tor flashed an annoyingly patronizing smile. “You may like them once you get to know them.”
She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I doubt it.”
Tor’s eyes narrowed to slits, and his voice dropped to a commanding rumble. “Dinner is at eight.”
Eight? That was late—not for her, but for a pack of drunks. If they were anything like her mother’s boyfriends, the closer to nightfall it got, the worse their demons became. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing Vidar at all, but the steely look Tor gave her made it hard for her to disobey.
“Fine.” She threw up her hands. “What do I do until then?”
“Roy will be here soon,” Van said and took a long drink from his coffee.
She glared at both of them, impatiently tapping her foot. “But I’m not allowed to leave with him, right?”
Tor shook his head. “It’s not safe.”
Not safe? Had he forgotten she’d killed a freaking werewolf? That she’d lived on her own for almost a year? Turning on her heel, she marched to her bedroom.
“Where are you going?” Tor called.
“Back to bed,” she called over her shoulder. “Wake me up after the apocalypse.” Though she’d wanted to slam the door, she feared the others in the house wouldn’t appreciate being woken up by her tantrum.
She needed alone time to regain her composure while she adjusted to the idea of dinner with her cowardly mates and their drunk, abusive father. What could possibly go wrong, other than Annie losing her cool and ripping Vidar’s throat out?
She flopped on the bed, mentally calculating the time difference between Texas and Alaska. Amara would be asleep and probably wouldn’t appreciate a phone call, though she really needed someone to talk to. At the very least, she wanted to hear her dog Mako’s sweet bark. How she missed him and wished she could’ve taken him with her to Texas. If she did end up mating with the Wolfstalkers, she’d send for him. She couldn’t live in Texas without him. But she was getting ahead of herself. No way in hell was she mating with the Wolfstalkers until they learned to stand up to their father. Until they proved themselves worthy of her. She looked at the ceiling through a misty haze. What if they didn’t stand up to him? Or worse, what if they turned out to be just like him? She couldn’t possibly mate with them if that was the case, which meant she would be destined to live as a lone wolf. How positively depressing.
ANNIE SAT ON THE PORCH swing, sipping a cold soda and watching the cows roam across the expansive field, munching grass. Beside her, Roy palmed a can of beer, looking like he had a lot on his mind. She thought about prying but knew it was wrong. She had never found the right time to tell Roy about her mind-reading capabilities, so popping into his head would be worse than spying. Roy had to get the words out on his own.
Finally he cleared his throat. “I looked her up.”
She froze. “Who?”
He grimaced. “You know who.”
Her shoulders sagged. Of course she did. She gave him an expectant look. “And?”
His voice was flat. “She married a rich old man twice her age.”
“What?” A bitter laugh escaped her. “Mom’s a gold-digger? Say it isn’t so. Did you talk to her?”
“No.” He frowned into his beer. “It’s too risky. If she asked what you or I was doing, I wouldn’t be able to explain.”
“She won’t ask.” Annie rolled her eyes. “She doesn’t care.” A knife of rejection twisted in her heart at the mere thought of the woman who’d abandoned them, forcing them into foster care.
“She had to leave.” Roy’s voice rose and his cheeks reddened. “She and Dad had a loveless marriage even before Dad’s accident.”
Swearing under her breath, Annie refused to call that man her dad. Not after he’d sat in his wheelchair and said nothing as CPS took them away. She’d been relieved when she learned her true fathers were the Ancients, the first wolves, immortals who watched over their packs from heaven and sometimes graced Earth with their presence. She squared her shoulders. “First off, he’s your dad, not mine. Second, she could’ve taken us with her.”
Roy’s face fell. “That’s cold, Annie. He thought you were his child. He loved you like you were his.”
That was a lie. He’d loved nobody. His only purpose in life was to pop pills and feel sorry for himself, even though it was his bad karma that put him in the wheelchair. After her grandparents died, he’d taken her cousin Amara’s inheritance on the grounds that he was to raise her. Instead he left her with her abusive, druggie mom and then turned his back on her when she was forced into foster care. The Ancients had punished him for his selfishness. Amara told her that the car crash that had left him paralyzed had been no accident. The Ancient alpha Amarok had caused the crash by appearing on the road before him in his apelike protector form, scaring him so badly, he’d hit a tree. After the accident, the man Annie had thought was her father withdrew from the world, preferring to stay in a perpetual state of drunkenness or drug addiction. Their mother, refusing to watch her husband deteriorate, had spent most of her time away from home with various boyfriends. Sometimes she’d even been bold enough to bring her boyfriends home, flaunting them in front of her crippled husband.
“He didn’t even fight when they took us away,” Annie whispered through a constricted throat. Every time Roy insisted on talking about their parents, she felt like an elephant was sitting on her chest.
“He’s a quadriplegic,” he snapped. “What was he supposed to do?”
Annie looked at him through narrowed eyes. “That didn’t mean he couldn’t fight for us.”
He crushed the empty beer can in his grip. “He asks about you.”
Her breath hitched. “What do you tell him?”
“That you’re living with friends in Alaska.” He flashed a boyish smile. “He wants you to call him.”
Every muscle in her body tensed. “I have nothing to say to him.”
He tossed the empty can on the floor and kicked it down the stairs. “Annie, you’re not being fair.”
“I’m not being fair?” Annie’s pitch rose along with her ire. “Look at how they treated Amara.”
He slouched, looking at that empty beer can as if it was his heart he’d kicked down the stairs. “That was wrong.”
“Ya think?” She couldn’t conceal her venom. Roy knew what his father had done to Amara and how hard her life had been because of it. He seriously couldn’t expect her to feel sorry for the man.
“Taking her inheritance was Mom’s idea,” he mumbled, “not Dad’s.”
As if that made it all right. “He could’ve stood up to her, but he didn’t, and Amara suffered because of it.”
“So you won’t call him?” His voice cracked, reminding her of his awkward puberty stage.
She groaned, her inner-wolf scratching at the surface, howling to break free and run far, far away. “Stop.” She abruptly stood, making the swing shake and squeak. She had to get the hell away from Roy. She knew from experience there was no shutting him up when he got in these dark, depressing moods.
“Okay, fine.” He heaved an overly dramatic sigh and pouted. “Where are you going?”
“Inside.” It was almost time to go see the Wolfstalkers. “I have to get ready for my dinner date from hell.”
Chapter Three
ANNIE PICKED AT HER undercooked hamburger, feeling more like she was the main course. She stole cautious glances at her mates. Tor and Van flanked her, growling at them when they stared at her for too long. She had never been more grateful for their presence than at that moment and not just because they served as good shields from her mates. They were also protecting her from the constant glares she was getting from Vidar.
The old wolf and his two brothe
rs were stupid drunk. Maybe that’s why the gamma didn’t realize the food was undercooked. She couldn’t believe the condition of their house. Her mates mentioned they’d been cleaning all day in anticipation of her arrival, which made her wonder exactly how dirty it had been before, because there was still food stuck to the walls and spider webs in every corner. Not to mention the entire place smelled like rotten cabbage. She understood her mates’ gamma father probably had a hard time keeping up with housework, with only one eye and such a pronounced limp, but the rest of the family could’ve helped out more. Who thought cheese stuck to the walls was the definition of a clean house?
No fucking way was she living here.
Annie took a bite of bland broccoli, hoping she wouldn’t get salmonella from it. She didn’t smell anything odd, which she took as a good sign. Magnus stared at his food with only one arm on the table. The other was stuffed in his pocket as if he was ashamed to reveal his missing hand.
Second alpha Raine acted like first alpha. He gave her bold looks, like he was undressing her with his eyes. It was unnerving and maybe a little exciting. He’d been the one to greet her at the door and hold out her chair before she sat down.
His brother, Jax, the beta, handed her a burger that was still half raw. Jax had a feral look about him, like all betas, but he also had a subtle, sweet smile. His dark hair was buzzed short, but from what she’d heard, he’d followed Vidar’s orders and never enlisted in the military. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d cut his hair that short to defy his father.
Frey, the youngest of the brothers, had a difficult time controlling his trembling hands. He ended up sloshing half a glass of lemonade down his arm before he set it in front of her plate. Frey had a deer-in-the-headlights look whenever she caught him staring at her. He also had the typical gamma baby face, with squeezable cheeks and an infectious smile. She’d smiled at him a few times and been rewarded with a goofy grin and flame-red cheeks.
She’d wanted to pop into her mates’ heads, but she’d been too terrified to try. What if she heard something she didn’t like? Besides, she knew it was an invasion of their privacy. She’d hear their thoughts soon enough after their mating. If that ever happened.