Claimed by the Mate, Volume 3

by Kate Douglas

  Those thoughts reminded her that she needed a shower. She looked over her shoulder to see the bathroom door about nine feet away from where she was standing. Marena didn’t move but stood there looking from the bathroom through the open archway in the other direction to where Phelan had disappeared a few minutes ago. It was a good distance and she wondered if it might be too far.

  “Screw it,” she mumbled, and then turned to walk toward the bathroom.

  With each step—while in her mind she waited for the pain to stop her in her tracks—Marena was determined to keep going. When her shoes touched on the tiled floor, a contrast from the wood floors in the bedroom, she looked back once more as if she thought the pain might be lurking just behind her, waiting to finally strike. But it didn’t.

  Just as it hadn’t this morning when she’d stood right outside Phelan’s room.

  Marena sighed and cleared the doorway, closing the bathroom door behind her. Switching on the light, she looked around, noting that the slate gray tile on the floor and the smaller tile pieces around the interior of the shower were the only modern touches in the room. The sink was a large slab of what looked to be a chunk out of the side of a huge tree, smoothed and glossed to perfection, a pewter faucet atop the ceramic sink. The mirror behind the sink was even surrounded by pieces of rock that were strategically placed, adding an artistic edge to what she was already considering a rustic bathroom. When she turned from the sink it was to the shock of seeing what could only be classified as a mound of rocks, which actually served as the base of the deep soaker tub. Marena almost sighed at how comfortable—if different from anything she’d ever seen—the tub looked.

  Of course the tub was different. It wasn’t her bathroom after all. And she wasn’t staying in this lodge as part of some sort of long-awaited vacation. There were serious issues at play here, ones that she needed to get on top of before they totally ruined all that she’d worked for. On that note, Marena undressed quickly and opened the glass shower stall door to step inside.

  The shower was hot and invigorating, even with the memories of someone else washing her the night before still fresh in her memory. When she stepped out of the shower and dried off, she decided she didn’t want to put on the clothes she’d just taken off. With a frown, because her clean clothes were in another room on the other side of the house, Marena looked around until she saw a robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Taking it down and slipping her arms into the long, wide sleeves, she wrapped the terry-cloth material around her body and belted it at the waist before leaving the bathroom.

  Marena walked through the bedroom and sitting area as if she’d been there many times before, making a right turn around another wall. There was a step down and her bare feet, still slightly damp, slapped down onto the hardwood floor. This area was smaller than the other two, only big enough, it seemed, to accommodate the huge oak desk Phelan sat behind and the even larger high-backed leather executive chair. There were two tall lamps in opposite corners and another smaller table, which matched the wood of the desk, that held a printer and boxes of paper.

  Phelan looked up at her and, like a moth to a flame, her gaze found his and held.

  She wanted to walk to him, to move until she was standing on the other side of that desk, just inches away from him. While she’d been in the bathroom she’d felt perfectly fine, no pain at all. And now she felt something totally different. There was a tugging in the center of her stomach as if something very strong was pulling her—against her will, or perhaps not—toward him. The sensation was so powerful that it took every ounce of strength Marena possessed to keep her standing still in that spot.

  “How was your shower?” he asked, his voice as smooth and deep as the strokes he’d made in and out of her pussy.

  She inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly.

  “It was fine,” she replied curtly. “What are you doing?”

  When he didn’t immediately respond she stepped around the desk to see what he was doing on the computer. Not because she felt like she would somehow be able to breathe much better if she was closer to him. She stopped the moment she saw Davis’s face on the computer screen.

  “You’re researching Davis? Why?”

  “Because I like to know everything about my enemy before I take his ass down,” was his immediate and unapologetic reply.

  “Davis isn’t your enemy,” Marena replied just as seriously. “He’s mine. And I need to find him so that I can take him back to San Francisco and show the partners that this was all a mistake.”

  “You’re not that naïve,” Phelan said without even bothering to look up at her. He simply clicked to the next screen, his gaze now trained on the computer.

  “This is my fight,” she stated sternly. “Davis is mine.”

  “He’s a Hunter lycan that needs to be stopped. That makes him mine,” Phelan countered.

  “And what am I? A casualty in this war you keep talking about?”

  If he gave another smart and curt answer, Marena thought she might smack him across the back of his head. Still raw from the rebuff after their tryst, she wasn’t about to let him simply dismiss her from the search for Davis as well.

  He seemed to pause as if he was actually thinking about his response. Marena felt a wave of triumph at that thought. It quickly dissipated.

  “You’re about to become a lycan, which may or may not turn out to be the biggest curse of your life. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone and I’d feel sorry for you if I thought that was what you wanted,” he said simply.

  Yes, simply, as if he’d just recited the items on tonight’s menu. Not like he’d just told her she was nothing and she needed to step aside and let him do what was her right to handle. If she were ten years old Marena was sure this would be the point where she balled her fists at her sides and stomped her feet until her brothers or sister really listened to her. But she was an adult and she was more serious than she’d ever been before. This was her life—as a human or a lycan—and she’d be damned if she was going to sit back and let Phelan ride in like a knight in shining armor and save the day. She was no damsel in distress, so that theory had never appealed to her.

  “He has a big case coming up in two weeks,” she started. “He’s not going to just blow that off.”

  Phelan’s fingers stilled on the keyboard. “You think he’s worried about some court case? He’s a Hunter, Marena. All he’s worried about is ruling. Channing’s trying to find out if he’s part of a pack or acting solo. Once we get an origin on him we’ll be ready to go out.”

  “Go out?” she asked, taking another step closer to him. She leaned in, extending her arm until it blocked the computer screen in an attempt to force him to look up at her.

  He did.

  And her breath caught.

  His eyes were fierce and glittering with flecks of hazel inside the deep green, his dark brows raised, lips parted so that she glimpsed just the white of his teeth. She swallowed deeply against the burning that began immediately in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t a sick feeling, but one of instant arousal. All he was doing was looking at her, but she was leaning over his shoulder, her breasts touching him, nipples hardening in response.

  “You mean you’re going to go after him?” she asked, licking her now-dry lips immediately.

  “I am.”

  “And you’re going to . . . What are you going to do when you find him?”

  She could hear the words and knew the answer before he responded.

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s dangerous.”

  “Only to me.”

  He shook his head. “To you and whoever else he decides to bite or, worse, kill.”

  “He wasn’t going to kill me,” she said quietly, swallowing again. “He could have, but he didn’t.”

  “And he won’t get another chance,” Phelan replied vehemently. “I won’t let him near you again, I don’t care if he did bite you. I won’t let him claim you.”

  “What does that
mean?” she asked, her gaze slipping from his eyes down to his mouth. It was a nice mouth and it instantly sparked the memory of his scorching-hot kisses.

  He frowned then but did not move. To be exact, his body had gone as still as stone from the moment she’d leaned into him.

  “It means—” he began, then clamped his lips shut tightly.

  “Tell me, Phelan,” she persisted.

  He moved quickly, as always, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her down on his lap.

  “His bite automatically made you his beta,” he told her, a hand reaching up to cup her chin. “He created you. But you’re not his mate, not until he claims you. He can’t do that until the night of the full moon. But I plan to kill him long before that.”

  Marena listened to him speak. She inhaled the insanely erotic scent of him, snuggling her ass into the already-rigid length of his cock. No man had ever held her like this before and a few days ago she would have sworn it wasn’t something she’d missed. But now, especially with his hand tightly holding her head still, her gaze intent on his, she felt really good sitting here. Really good and damned aroused.

  “I’m not anybody’s mate,” she said, because it just wasn’t in her nature to be owned or “claimed” by anyone. She didn’t give a damn about their lycan laws; that just wasn’t happening.

  He surprised her immensely by saying, “Neither am I,” before taking her mouth in another one of those heated and hungry kisses that had her struggling to breathe.

  “Take this off,” he growled between placing nipping bites along the line of her jaw where his hand had just been.

  Marena didn’t have a chance to consider if she was going to acquiesce or argue; his hands had already pushed the material from her shoulders. The movement was so rough the loose knot at her waist slipped free and before she knew it she was bare from the waist down.

  His mouth was instantly on a nipple, his large hand lifting her breast to accommodate the action. Her hands went to his broad shoulders where she could do nothing but hold on as his tongue circled around her nipple until she was bucking beneath him, her back arching as she moaned. When Marena thought she would surely come from the sinful acts of his tongue alone, Phelan switched to the other breast, paying the same homage until she screamed his name.

  That seemed to flip another switch in him, because in the next seconds he had his hands on her waist as he lifted her onto the desk. The keyboard and the monitor moved farther behind her, until Marena was afraid they might be knocked totally from the desk. But Phelan reached around, moving them off to the side, then giving her an ominous look that warned her to “hold on.”

  Going on instinct alone, she let her palms fall flat to the desk, only seconds before Phelan grabbed the backs of her legs, lifting them until they were spread into a wide V. He dipped his head next and licked her from the tight bud of her anus to the hardened hood of her clit.

  The silent warning hadn’t been enough, and by the time Phelan was finished licking and sucking her Marena had felt her nails scraping along the top of the desk. His name fell from her lips like a CD stuck on a loop and when she came the volume went so high she thought it was quite possible that everyone in that house had heard her.

  Chapter 7

  “You’re fucking her and she hasn’t even had her first shift yet,” Malec said. His words were tight and accusatory as they stood in the living room, near the fireplace that Channing had lit before dinner.

  “None. Of. Your. Business,” Phelan stated tightly, stepping closer so that he and Malec were now toe-to-toe. Their voices were lowered because Marena, Kira, and Caroline weren’t that far away.

  They’d all moved into the living room after dinner, glasses of wine or coffee or nothing in hand. The women—Caroline, Kira, and Marena—were standing close to the window because that’s where Marena had walked to. She’d been looking out to the dark stretch of land that surrounded the back of the house. The forest wasn’t visible on nights when there were no stars or moonlight in sight.

  “Channing couldn’t trace that Hunter back to any pack,” Malec replied, not backing down.

  Phelan gritted his teeth. “So we have another Solo.” He didn’t like the thought of there being another lycan with no ties to anyone as their next target.

  Malec shook his head. “You know a Solo has a different scent than pack lycans. But you were adamant that this Davis character was a Hunter. How did you come to that conclusion?”

  His frown deepened as Phelan looked over Malec’s shoulder to Marena. Caroline had brought Marena’s bag and purse from the room she’d been assigned to last night down to Malec’s rooms about an hour before dinner. Phelan had dismissed the blatant act, deciding not to give it a second thought. It was only moments after he’d brought Marena to yet another climax. His dick had remained rock hard as he’d stood behind the door, reaching his hand out to accept the bags from Caroline. There was no doubt the lycan had known what he and Marena were doing and had apparently wasted no time running back to tell Malec. These mated unions in this house were frustrating Phelan more and more.

  Marena wore a gray dress tonight, belted at the waist and just a few inches above her knees. Her long straight hair was pulled over one shoulder, and while the look on her face was that of someone just a little bit stressed, the confidence in her stance and tone was in direct contrast. Of course, all of that was the physical. It was what any other lycan in this room would have seen when they looked at her.

  Marena’s unique scent, however, was all his.

  Even now in this room full of other lycans he could pick her out with his eyes closed. He could inhale deeply and let the soft, erotic aroma that reminded him of honey and pine trees filter through his mind, his body, and . . .

  That was the scent he’d picked up that night on the highway. The deep earthy smell that reminded him of the wild, the uninhibited, the Hunters. Only it hadn’t been that scent alone.

  “I was wrong,” Phelan said through clenched teeth. “Dammit, I was all wrong.”

  Malec nodded slightly. “She’s more than just someone that got bitten by a lycan, isn’t she?”

  “No,” Phelan replied immediately. “No. She has nothing to do with us, or them. Davis bit her; he pulled her in. She’s—”

  She doesn’t belong here. She doesn’t belong with you, Eureka’s voice interrupted. I told you it would always be me.

  “She’s what?” Malec asked, continuing to stare at Phelan with his silent accusations.

  Phelan shook his head. He closed his eyes in an attempt to get his thoughts, words, and feelings straight.

  She has to go. Now! Or there’ll be trouble, Eureka declared. Trouble unlike anything you’ve ever imagined.

  “Phelan?” Malec asked, cupping a hand on his shoulder. “You all right?”

  Phelan lowered his head, flexing his fingers at his sides as his claws extended, a growl rumbling low in his chest.

  “Phelan?” Malec called to him again.

  You know what you must do, Phelan, Eureka taunted. She. Must. Go!

  “Phelan?” Channing was there now, calling his name as well.

  Phelan felt himself swaying. He felt the room around him shifting. No, not the room, the world. And when he opened his eyes finally, his gaze went directly to her.

  “Marena,” he whispered.

  His mate.

  * * *

  Phelan was staring at her. Marena could feel the intensity of his gaze bearing down like a heat lamp on the back of her neck, but she refused to turn around or acknowledge him. This was also how she’d decided to dismiss the fact that weird things had already begun to happen to her. She figured it was a result of that bite on her shoulder that didn’t look like it was healing at all.

  That was the reason she was so drawn to Phelan. It was why all he had to do was look at her with those sexy as hell eyes, or kiss her with those dangerous and desirable lips, or touch her with skillful hands and she was like putty in his hands. She was ready and ea
ger to do any-and everything she could to receive the pleasure from being with him. Whether it was simply his oral pleasure or the feel of his thick length buried to the hilt inside of her, she craved it and found herself wondering when her next opportunity to experience it would come.

  It was ridiculous and demeaning and so she’d purposely spent the entire dinner looking in the opposite direction of him to where Channing and Caroline were sitting. She chatted with the two of them almost exclusively. That wasn’t because she didn’t care for Blaez or Kira, but they were sitting in Phelan’s direction and she was trying to ignore him. Or rather, she was trying to ignore the crazy and intense desire she’d so quickly developed for him.

  “So you didn’t leave a boyfriend back in San Francisco, did you, Marena?” Kira asked as the three of them stood together.

  The alpha female hadn’t even tried to be subtle. Marena didn’t think it was possible for her anyway, which she kind of respected. The last thing she wanted was to have to deal with catty women in the midst of everything else that was going on. Then again, she thought with an inner chuckle, how could they be catty if they were actually wolves?

  “No boyfriend,” Marena replied, taking a sip from her wineglass.

  It was an excellent cabernet sauvignon, full bodied and flavorful. She took another sip.

  “No time for one, since I’m a workaholic,” she admitted. “Which is why I need Davis to show his conniving face so I can get back to work.”

  Caroline nodded. “I’m a veterinarian,” she said. “I used to work at the clinic in town before things got a little . . . weird. I miss working with the animals and the variety of the day. So I can understand you wanting to get back to your job.”

  “When you say ‘weird,’ is that because you’re publicly involved in a ménage relationship?” Kira wasn’t the only one who could be candid.

  The alpha female arched a brow at Marena’s question and then smiled in Caroline’s direction.