by Tara West
He arched away from her. “Would you want me there?”
She shrugged, picking grime out of her fingernails and acting as if his heart wasn’t on the chopping block. “That depends.”
“On what?” He suspected he didn’t want to know the answer.
She gave him a pointed look. “On if you’re willing to stop feeling sorry for yourself and stand up to Vidar.”
He shrank back, indignation flushing his face. “I don’t feel sorry for myself.”
“No?” She chuckled.
Her laughter was like nails on a chalkboard. She had no respect for him.
“There’s a difference between self-pity and self-loathing,” he said.
“From where I’m standing, it’s all the same.”
“Look at me, Annie.” He held up his prosthetic hand, dismayed to see one of his fingers had broken off. “I’m half a man, a worthless protector.”
She snorted. “You’re annoying is what you are.”
When another roar shook the air, she got up, turned on her heel, and marched back toward the barn.
He jumped up, blinking back a wave of dizziness. “Where are you going?”
“To stop the fight.”
“Like hell you are!” He lunged forward and spun her around, dragging her back into the stables. “You’re staying with me.”
“Why are we out here, Magnus?” She threw up her hands. “Is it to keep me safe, or are you hiding from Vidar?”
He couldn’t stand the accusation in her eyes, the loathing in her tone. The damn of anger burst, spilling through him. “Damn you! You’re as bad as he is with the taunts.”
“The difference is he’s trying to pull you down, and I’m trying to lift you up.”
His breath hitched as he gaped at her. She was trying to lift him up? Did that mean she cared about him? That she wanted to be his mate? The thought both excited and depressed him. What if he wasn’t a good mate to her? What if he failed to protect her, like he’d done with his mother?
“I don’t want you to go back inside.” The pain in his chest was so severe, it felt as if he’d run a marathon. “I don’t want you getting hurt.” Voice cracking with emotion, he hung his head.
“Magnus, I’ve battled werewolves.” She gently cupped his cheek. “I can handle one douchebag father-in-law.”
He was overwhelmed by her sincerity while reveling in her touch. He wished they could stay like this forever. “Your courage humbles me.” He placed a hand on his heart, bowing to her. This woman was more than just his future mate, she was the daughter of the gods, a goddess in her own right, and he intended to treat her like one.
Her eyes softened. “I’m not trying to humble you. I’m trying to free you. Your soul has been chained long enough.”
The last threads of his sanity snapped when he saw the pity in her eyes. He was a fucking alpha protector, capable of ripping full-grown trees from the ground. He wasn’t supposed to be pitied. He was supposed to be revered and feared. He clenched his hair by the roots and let out a primal roar, screaming until he was out of breath. Falling to his knees, he looked up at the warped wooden ceiling. He was damned sick of people pitying him and of being ashamed of something that had happened to him as a boy. Most of all, he was fucking sick and tired of the way Father treated everyone around him. Enough was enough. He was ready to make a change, and not just for himself. She deserved no less.
“Magnus.” She knelt beside him, clutching his arm. “Are you okay?”
Though he refused to let any tears fall, he looked at her through a watery film. Cupping her chin in his one good hand, he said, “What did I do to deserve a mate like you?”
She grabbed his forearm and squeezed, her strength flooding into him like a raging river. “The real question is what will you do to deserve a mate like me?”
“Anything,” He said without hesitation.
She moved closer to him, so close he could smell her minty breath. Her eyes shut and her lips parted. Though he was terrified, his heart pounding a thousand beats a minute, he had to take the chance and kiss her. When he moved his lips across hers, she cupped the back of his neck, moving into him like they were two interlocking puzzle pieces. He hugged her tightly, pleased when she sighed into his mouth, deepening the kiss. His cock was harder than steel, throbbing with painful need, straining toward her touch. He wanted to strip off her clothes and make love to her. Fuck the mating ritual. Fuck his brothers. He’d never wanted anything so badly in his life than to claim her. The only thing stopping him was his respect for Annie. He would not turn into a monster like his father and force himself on her.
When they finally came up for air, the violent sounds inside the barn had died down.
She pulled away. “We should see if they’re okay.”
He felt as if the sun had disappeared, casting a gloom over his heart. “No,” he said. “I need to make sure it’s safe first.” Though he didn’t want to leave her alone, he wouldn’t risk bringing her into the barn if Vidar was still unhinged. “Do not leave this spot, okay?”
“Okay, but don’t take too long.”
“Believe me, I won’t.” Kissing her forehead, he gave her one last forlorn look before hurrying to the barn. Ancients save Vidar if he hadn’t been subdued. It was well past time he stood up to Father and became the protector Annie needed him to be.
ANNIE SAT DOWN ON THE bale of hay, wrapping her arms around herself and praying to the ancients her mates were okay. Vidar was a major asshole, but he wouldn’t kill his sons, would he? She turned at the sound of footsteps behind her, startled to see Roy.
She ran to him and threw her arms around him.
He hugged her back. “Annie. You don’t know how happy I am to see you.” He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering a little longer than she was used to, his hands sliding down to her ass.
She jerked away, shocked and disturbed. Was he drunk? Her nostrils flared. He smelled like that redheaded demon’s awful lavender perfume, but she was dead. “Where have you been?” she asked suspiciously. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”
“Long story. I was captured and escaped.” He nodded at the barn. “What’s going on?”
“Vidar.” She grimaced. “That’s what’s going on.” Why did he put his hands on her ass? He’d never done that before. “Why do you smell like her?”
“Like who?”
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. “The redheaded demon.”
His eyes bulged. “You know she’s a demon?”
She took a step back. “What were you doing with them?” Her heart rate quickened, drowning out all other thoughts when she thought she saw red embers flash in his eyes. She quickly scanned his mind.
I need to act now. She’s onto me.
He splayed his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I already told you I was captured.”
“You’re not my brother,” she said, the wolf inside clawing at her skin. But how had the demon turned into Roy? Had it shifted into his image or somehow managed to steal his skin? If so, was he lost to her forever?
“What are you talking about, Annie?” He cocked his head, bewildered.
She hesitated, not knowing how to act. What if Roy’s soul was trapped inside his body? If she killed the imposter, would she kill him, too?
She advanced on him, rage threatening to split her skull in two while her inner-wolf howled. “What did you do with my brother?”
“I-I can explain,” he stammered, then glanced at something over her shoulder. She turned and winced when a sharp pain pierced her neck.
She yanked a dart out of her skin, then fell to her knees when her legs gave way. Her veins turned to sludge and she fell on her back, blinking up at the demon in Roy’s skin.
He flashed an evil smile and laughed. “Goodnight, little wolf. When you wake, your shifter skin will have a new owner.”
A scream died on Annie’s lips as she succumbed to darkness.
MAGNUS BURST INTO THE barn in protector for
m. He wasn’t taking any chances with Vidar. So what, that he was missing a hand? He could still take on an old, stumbling drunk. He pushed his way through a circle of protectors, all beating their chests and hurling insults at Vidar, who’d been pinned to the ground by Raine and Tor Thunderfoot.
Raine looked up at him, his nose bleeding and swollen to twice its size. “Where’s Annie?”
“She’s safe,” he said, feeling bad that Raine had taken the brunt of their father’s abuse. Magnus puffed up his chest, resolved that this would be the last time.
Vidar gaped at Magnus and let out a primal roar. “Tell them to release me!”
Raine dug his furry knee into Vidar’s throat. “Not until you promise you’ll calm down.”
Vidar roared again. “Let me go, you son of a bitch!”
Raine threw back his head with a deep bellow. “You do realize you’re calling my mother a bitch, don’t you?”
Vidar thrashed beneath him. “You damn worthless piece of coyote dung.”
“Tell us how you really feel, Father.” Raine chuckled.
Tor grunted, nearly falling over when Vidar managed a good kick between his legs. Cesar helped Tor up, and Magnus took his place, sitting on Vidar’s heavy legs and wedging an elbow above his groin.
Magnus pressed his elbow deeper until his father grunted in pain. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said in a surprisingly steady voice. “You will promise to behave yourself and then Raine will let you go. Then your brothers will take you home, where you will sober up.”
Vidar lifted his head and spit at Magnus. “Fuck you.”
“Wrong answer.” Magnus was sorely tempted to slam his elbow down hard enough to make Vidar’s nutsack black and blue for a month, but he refused to stoop to his father’s level. Instead he stood, holding his one hand down to him. “Let him go,” he said to Raine.
“You sure?”
Magnus solemnly nodded. Raine jumped back as if Vidar had the plague.
Their father stumbled to his feet and roared at Raine.
Magnus pounded his broad chest. “Over here, Father. One on one.”
Turning back toward Magnus, Vidar let out a demonic chuckle. “You?” He sneered at Magnus’s prosthetic. “I’m not fighting a cripple.”
Of all the insults Vidar hurled at him, Magnus hated “cripple” the most, and Vidar damn well knew it. Flexing his arms, Magnus locked gazes with him, knowing exactly what to say to get him riled up. “Tell the truth, Father. You’re not afraid of hurting a cripple. You’re afraid of losing to one.”
Father charged like an angry bull, falling into Raine with the grace of an armored vehicle plowing through a wall before pushing him aside and rushing Magnus.
He sidestepped his father, knocking him to the ground with his crippled arm, not even caring when the prosthetic flew from his wrist and shattered against the wall.
Father hit the ground so hard, he shattered the wood under him and landed in the crawlspace below in a plume of dust. Growling and cursing, he climbed back out, slapping his hands together before charging again.
This time Magnus stuck out a leg, tripping his drunken father, who barreled into a mound of hay.
Father kept on coming, spitting hay and dirt. He charged again and again, until he finally fell to his knees, gasping for breath.
Embarrassed for him, Magnus shook his head.
He addressed his two other fathers, who stood in the shadows like frightened mice. “Take him home and sober him up, then pack his bags. He’s moving out.”
“Y-you can’t do that,” Sami said, voice trembling. “He’s your father.”
“I can and I will, and if you have a problem with it, you can go with him.”
Sami’s eyes watered, then he ran from the barn.
Every protector in the room backed up several steps, eyes locked on Vidar.
Father got to his feet once more with a growl. “That’s my damn house.”
“No,” Magnus said, bracing himself for another attack. “That house belongs to all the Wolfstakers, and we don’t want you there anymore. Majority rules. We will not subject our new mate to your drunken tantrums.”
Voicing their agreement, Magnus’s brothers stood beside him in a show of solidarity.
Vidar threw back his head with a howl. “You ungrateful, worthless, piece of crap.” He charged Magnus one last time, fell over his own feet, and landed smack into Magnus’s fist. He crumbled to the floor with a heavy thud, blood pouring from his nose. He let loose a loud snort and passed out.
“Get him out of here,” Magnus said to Tyr, his last remaining father, and usually the least drunk of the three.
Tor and Cesar helped, dragging Father to the other end of the barn.
Cesar returned, wiping dirt off his big paws. “We can’t take him outside like this. He’ll have to sleep it off in the barn.”
Magnus shrugged. “Fine by me.”
Clapping him on the back, Cesar flashed a fanged grin. “I’m glad to see you finally stand up to him, son.”
“Me, too.” He grimaced. “Sorry it took me so long.”
“No need to be sorry. I know you had your own demons to face before dealing with him.”
Magnus gazed at the trail of destruction left by their father’s tantrum. Hay bales had been ripped apart, beams pulled from the rafters, and a gigantic smoker with a full hog had been overturned. The blackened animal lay in the dirt. “I’m afraid my feud with him has just begun.”
“If there’s anything I can do....” Cesar said.
“Keep Annie safe until our home is ready for her.”
“Of course,” he answered.
Magnus shook Cesar’s outstretched hand. “I appreciate it.”
Cesar stepped aside and Raine was there, holding out a hand to Magnus.
When Magnus took his hand, Raine pulled him into a fierce hug.
“You okay?” Raine asked.
“Never been better.” Magnus had a much longer answer, as well as an apology to his brothers for his brooding behavior, but it would have to wait. “Come on. I don’t like leaving Annie alone.”
As Magnus strode toward the door, a lead weight settled in his gut as the scents of stale blood and lavender hit him. Something was wrong. “Annie!” He took off at a run, his brothers howling behind him.
FOLLOWING THE STRANGE scents, the trail went cold fast in one direction, so they followed it back to the stables, where Magnus had left her, but Annie wasn’t there either.
Clenching his hair by the roots, Raine roared at the rafters. “Where is she?”
“It’s all my fault.” Magnus hung his head, weeping into the dirt. “I shouldn’t have left her.”
Raine was in no mood to offer him comfort. What he’d said was true, but what was done was done. All that mattered was getting her back.
Raine sniffed. “Smell that?” He turned to the tracker. “Ben? What do you think?”
Ben Coyotechaser stalked to the spot where she’d been left. Falling to all fours next to a hay bale, he sniffed the ground, then looked up. “I smell Agent Roy Miller and something else.” He sniffed again. “I recognize that smell.”
Raine’s nostrils flared as he belatedly recognized the agent’s familiar scent. “So do I. I also smell lavender.”
“The dead demon’s perfume,” Ben said.
Had a woman abducted Annie? If so, why hadn’t Annie fought back? Did the woman have Roy with her, maybe as a hostage? He scratched his head, trying to make sense of the situation.
They did a quick but thorough perimeter search but found nothing. Annie was gone.
Raine and his brothers howled in grief and anger. No force in heaven or hell could save that demon if it hurt Annie, and Ancients save Magnus for letting her get captured. Raine had forgiven him for losing their mother, but he would not forgive him this time.
Chapter Ten
BALBAN DROPPED THE limp she-wolf into the cab of Aosoth’s borrowed truck. “Drive!” she commanded.
Aos
oth gaped at the girl.
“Did you not hear me?” Balban snapped. “Drive!”
He put the truck in gear and tore off down the road. “I don’t like this.”
She folded her arms across her ugly, flat chest. “I don’t give a damn what you like.” She smugly smiled to herself, looking down at the pretty sleeping girl sandwiched between them. Over a hundred years she’d waited to seek vengeance on these wolves, and she was about to achieve the impossible. Sitri would’ve been so proud. If only he were here to see what she’d done to avenge his cruel murder, bringing her more satisfaction than the time she’d ambushed that pack of shifters twelve years ago, killing the female and her alpha mate.
“But if we bring attention to ourselves, they might figure out we’re demons,” Aosoth whined.
An odd feeling came over Balban as she looked at the demon who’d been her mate for over a decade. She realized she didn’t like him. Though he’d been on this plane for less than a century, he was always second-guessing her decisions and complaining. She was growing tired of him.
Another thought occurred to her. Once she took this female shifter’s body, she would have four mates, for she recalled from Agent Roy Miller’s thoughts that the shifter named Annie would soon give her virginity to four brothers, as was the way with the shifter race. She knew Aosoth would try to claim her virginity and keep the pretty shifter to himself. Was that what she wanted? To run off with this whining demon and let him claim her first blood? Or did she want to give herself to four strong, young shifters? Hopefully, horny men who’d want to fuck all night? She’d never had four brothers at once before. The thought made her dangly parts harden. The choice was clear. She would have to get rid of Aosoth, but would he let her?
“They know we’re demons,” she said, eyeing him sideways to gauge his reaction.
“What?” He slammed on the brakes, nearly running into the ditch.
“Keep your eyes on the road!” she snapped. She looked behind them, pleased when she saw they weren’t being followed, but their luck would soon run out. She had to get the she-wolf to a secure location, so she could switch bodies.