by Christa Wick
It took twenty minutes to reach the clubhouse, most of them going down the mountain with me fighting the urge to scream while I gripped him tighter and tighter.
The clubhouse was a big single story building made out of sandstone blocks. Dozens of other bikes were parked in the lot. I recognized Braeden's, in part because it was standing alongside Clover's Jeep.
"Do I really have to go in?" I asked after Taron had parked and climbed off.
"You're not afraid of them," he told me.
I closed my eyes and shrugged.
He pinched my chin gently and kept holding it even after I opened my eyes and looked at him.
"They won't hurt you," he promised.
Maybe, maybe not. First they would hate me -- some already did. Then the hurtful words would come. After that, the sly physical abuse just like with members of my father's pack -- of my own family.
I had fled Illinois before I would have to find out what the final stage would be.
"Look, Clover is here. She'll keep you company and bury anyone who bugs you with about a billion words."
I smiled. I was pretty sure she would at least try.
"Church was already scheduled for today," he went on. "There's lots of non-you club and pack business to discuss and I'll bulldoze through it as fast as I can."
I slid off the bike. I had been holding him so tight, my legs clamped to the sides of the big, roaring machine, that the bottom half of my body had gone to sleep.
Knees folding like an accordion, I was going down.
Taron caught me, one arm against the small of my back, the hand of the other molded around my ass cheek.
"You should try to ride a hell of a lot looser next time," he suggested.
He had no idea what torture riding down that mountain holding onto him the entire time had been. The engine thrumming between my legs would distract me until he took a wide sweeping turn as the one lane dirt road circumnavigated a boulder or some other obstacle. That would leave me clawing at his stomach and ready to throw up from the combination of motion sickness and a sudden spike in adrenaline.
Then we'd hit a section where the seasonal rains had turned the road into a washboard, the bike bouncing mercilessly, my nipples rubbing up and down his leather jacket, the material too thick for him to feel the hard tips they had become while I was left with an agonizing ache that echoed deep between my legs.
"I'll keep Church as short as possible," he promised again. "Then we can get you back up to the cabin. Okay?"
I nodded, grateful he wasn't huffing or growling at me while being so nice.
Leading me inside, he found Clover and deposited me on a bar stool next to her. His hand rested for a second against my back, and then he left without a word and disappeared behind closed doors. A few minutes later Mallory stalked by, his narrow chest rumbling with displeasure before he vanished behind the same doors.
"That's the last of the officers," Clover said as she pushed a bottled water at me. "Are you sure you don't want a beer? You'll need one or maybe something stronger before you meet Landa."
I shook my head. "Is she not here yet?"
"Oh, she's here all right," Clover groused and pointed her beer bottle at the same doors Taron and Mallory were hiding behind.
Almost on cue, the doors opened and a compact blonde with giant breasts backed out cooing into the room, her chest dipping to display her cleavage. "I'll be right back with that drink, Prez."
"I have a shovel," Clover quipped. "And I know a nice spot in the forest, easy to get to, but not a lot of foot traffic."
Smiling, I popped the seal on my water and took a sip. She was probably right about needing something much harder to make it through my initial visit to the clubhouse, but I didn't want the first time I got drunk to be in front of a bunch of shifters judging every move I made.
Landa slithered by behind the bar, side eyeing me as she opened up a bottle of hard lemonade. Her nostrils flared in a blatant show of taking in my scent and then her lips curled. Without saying anything, she returned to the double doors, stopped and gave me a pointed smile before she went into the private meeting room.
"So what exactly is a sweet butt?" I asked, my voice as low as I could make it go and still be talking.
"Club whore," Clover replied without making any attempt to whisper. "We don't have enough females around here. Used to be even less and that kept erupting in fights."
"We have an abundance," I said. "Probably five females for every four males."
"Crap, and here I was hoping you had some really hot brother you wanted to introduce me to."
A hollow laugh shook my chest as I shattered her fantasy. "You really, really, really wouldn't like my brother. He's not at all like Braeden."
"None are," she agreed with a smile. "Anyway, to cut down on the violence, females need a male family member or a mate to stay in the pack. If she doesn't have one or doesn't want to pick a mate -- one who'll have her, of course -- she can stay if she services any unmated, adult male in the pack who wants a fuck as long as he doesn't, and has never, hurt her."
"That's..."
"That's Landa," Clover said when I couldn't finish the thought. "She's had plenty of offers to pair bond, but she's got her eyes set on just one male."
Seeing the pointed look in her green gaze, I slowly exhaled. "Taron?"
"Got it in one -- we should play Team Jeopardy together. We would totally annihilate our opponents."
"It's still barbaric," I protested, almost feeling sorry for the woman but for the fact that she clearly had a bitchy streak going and had an immediate grudge against me because of Taron's claim that morning.
"There's a six-month grace period," Clover explained with one of her half-shrugs. "Not that it excuses the practice."
Ten long minutes later, Landa came out of the meeting room, legs unsteady as she pulled down her skirt.
"How many men are in there?" I whispered.
Clover did a quick count in her head. "Eight tonight, usually only five. Sometimes all the adult males, but that's rare."
"Fuck, they're horny tonight," Landa said, her eyes half lidded as she scooped a bunch of ice into a bucket and then loaded the bucket with bottles of beer. She stretched her jaw side to side like it had grown stiff then shrugged and faked a bright smile. "Mama's gonna have a full belly tonight, that's for sure."
Placing a palm atop my forearm, Clover held it there until Landa was back behind the closed doors.
"She's just hamming it up to piss you off. Taron wants nothing to do with her. He's made it perfectly clear time and again."
"It doesn't make you feel weird knowing your brother's in there?"
She frowned like she hadn't really considered the possibility that her beloved big brother was in there fucking the club's sweet butt or getting a blowjob in between handling Woodsmen business.
"He's got someone else he likes," she whispered, something I didn't think she did very often. "He just won't admit it because she's human and doesn't know about us."
"Us-us," I asked, "or the Woodsmen?"
"Shifters," she laughed softly. "I think the whole biker thing kind of puts her off, too, but only kind of because he's definitely got that bad boy vibe going when he's on his chopper and his jacket's off. I know she thinks he's hot."
Landa came out more quickly than the last time. She didn't have to adjust her skirt, and she wasn't smiling. Instead she stalked straight in my direction looking every bit like the moray eel slash vampire bat slash rattlesnake that Clover had suggested.
Whatever had just happened in that room, whatever had been said. She looked at me like she wanted to kick my ass -- or worse.
Back home, I had tried putting on a tough face and talking even tougher when one of my peers thought it would be funny to challenge me. I'd soon learned that people thought I was a lot scarier when I kept my mouth shut and just stared at them. I could hide my fear, give them a blank mask and let their imagination run wild, but I was total shit at trash
talking and usually wound up on the bottom of the fight.
"You're really fucking up Night Falls, aren't you, bitch?" Landa hissed.
"What's the matter?" Clover asked, all sugary sweet. "Wouldn't Braeden let you suck his dick?"
"Watch it, wolf," Landa snarled, claws erupting. "Or maybe I will go after your big brother just for the fun of rubbing your smug face in it."
Her bright blue eyes slashed in my direction. "Are you fucking mute as well as stupid?"
I continued staring at her, my gaze occasionally shifting as if I were sizing her up for combat. Never mind that she had claws and razor sharp teeth and that crazy kind of manic strength only cats seemed to possess, making them far more formidable than their size would suggest. Worst case scenario would be if she could hold the alpha state. Then, if she was as crazy as her contorting face suggested, my ass was toast.
She extended her claws all the way out. They were impressive, but it didn't mean she was alpha. Pretty much all adult shifters could maintain the claws and fangs. It was the hulking beast that walked on two legs and could bench press a tank that worried me.
Landa took a swipe at my face. I pulled back at the last second, my heart rate accelerating.
"Hey!" Clover yelled and tried to shove the blonde away before she could attack again.
Landa took a swipe at Clover, her catlike speed helping her nick the young woman in the throat. The males had remained quiet spectators as she had tried to nail me, but now they were restless in their chairs as she drew blood from the vice-president's baby sister.
One of them stood up and started toward us, warning Landa to back down.
She was too far into a hissing rage to listen. She feinted another slash at Clover before changing directions at the last minute and aiming for my eyes.
I dodged it, grabbed her arm with one hand, ducked as she tried to get me with her free arm. Twisting to her side, I took hold of her arm again with both hands and started to turn in a hard, fast circle, the velocity of my swing lifting her off her feet.
Letting her go as I had her airborne, I watched her slam into one of the solid concrete pillars that supported the building's roof.
Landa hit the floor, her body motionless and twisted in ways that were unnatural -- even for a cat shifter. Trying to move, she groaned, then screamed as she forced her spine straight with gut wrenching cracks.
I had thought my pulse was running out of control when she started the fight, but seeing the puma looking broken on the ground, my heart beat so fast I thought it would burn out or explode any second.
Had I crippled her?
I looked at the column and saw the force of impact had cracked it vertically. Not all the way through, only a spidery line that ran around eight inches, but cracked nonetheless.
How had I done that? How had I matched her speed and thrown her with such force?
While I stared at the shifter on the floor, Clover clutching my arm and whispering "oh shit" over and over, one of the men ran into the meeting room. Taron came out first, followed by Braeden and half a dozen Woodsmen.
Taron looked from me to the woman on the floor, his gaze darkening.
"She totally attacked us," Clover blurted, tilting her head to show him the fast healing wound and bloody smears on her neck. "Onyx didn't say a single word to that bitch, she just came out all fucking pissed from the meeting room and started talking smack then attacked us!"
"Is this true?" Taron asked me.
I nodded as Clover started to have her own meltdown.
"Do I ever fucking lie?"
"No, little wolf," Taron relented. "Lying requires you to think before you speak and that's not your style."
He looked down at Braeden who had rolled Landa onto her side and had his hand pressed solidly against the center of her back as she moaned and writhed.
"Are you healing that bitch after she attacked me?" Clover asked.
Green eyes that matched her own glared up and stopped the flow of her indignant protests.
"Let Mallory finish her," Taron said, grabbing me by the elbow. "Take your sister home."
He nodded at the other males who had been in the meeting room with him.
"Church is over."
********************
Hands wrapped tightly around Taron's waist, I waited for him to shut the bike off and lower the kick stand before I slid off the back. The drive down the mountain in daylight had been sufficiently terrifying. The trip up in the dark -- my nerves frayed by the fight at the club meeting -- was merciless.
"We'll go to the city tomorrow, get you a riding jacket," he said as I hugged my arms against the cold that gripped me. "And whatever else you need."
"I need my car," I sniped then clamped my mouth shut before exposing my reason.
The longer I stayed, the more I would ruin his life. That whole scene at the clubhouse wouldn't have happened if I wasn't there.
He was too proud and protective to back down from the unconventional claim he had made. It might already be too late to save his position as pack leader, but if I stayed much longer, he might find himself outcast, as well.
I mean, she was a fucking shifter and I had hurt her so bad with so little effort that she couldn't recover quickly and had to have an alpha help her.
"None of that nonsense about needing your car so you can leave," he growled. "At least not tonight. I've had enough people arguing with me for the day."
Mute, I followed after him and stood to the side as he slatted the door once we were in the cabin. Seeing me stand there like an idiot, he nodded at the kitchen.
"You didn't have time to eat at the meeting. You should fix yourself something."
I shrugged. At that moment, I didn't feel like I would ever eat again. He had healed the pain in my stomach, but my gut was still twisted in knots with everything that I faced. I was packless -- couldn't go back to mine, couldn't stick around Night Falls and make Taron an outcast with me.
Shoulders sagging, he shook his head. "Suit yourself. I'm taking a shower."
I wanted to reach out, to touch him as some tender of an apology I couldn't force into words. But I couldn't risk contact, not as fragile as I felt. It had been far too long since I'd had a comforting hug and I would surely break if he gave me one.
"I'll start a fire," I offered in reconciliation. He'd already showered that morning, was only doing so again because he was pissed and didn't want to be around me even though I had only been defending myself and Clover.
"Suit yourself," he answered curtly.
I watched him disappear into the bathroom then sat on the rocker, my face buried in my hands. The shower started up, the faucets turned on one by one. As preoccupied as I was by what had transpired with Landa, I still groaned as a picture formed in my mind of his naked body beneath all that water pounding at his flesh.
There had been good looking males in my father's pack, an even better looking human male on the street where we lived, but none of them compared to Taron. There wasn't an unkind angle to view him from. He was gorgeous and sexy under any light.
His energy was amazing, too.
I had felt it on the ride there and back, my arms around him for safety. I had been in the presence of other alphas, including other pack leaders and the leaders of both of Champaign's prides, but they possessed nothing like the glow of power and warmth he exuded.
The Woodsmen would be worse off if they ejected him as president, no matter who replaced him.
That was another reason I had to go. There would be those -- people like Braeden and Clover -- who would support Taron as pack leader. I had to think about what would happen to them within the pack if Taron was voted out.
I had to go, with or without my car.
The water cut off suddenly. I jumped up from the chair and hurried toward the fireplace as I tried to measure how much time I'd just lost agonizing about my situation. I could have sworn it was just a few minutes, less than a handful.
The bathroom door banged open
, Taron emerging wet and clothed only with a towel around his thick waist. He was marching straight at me, eyes blazing just as Landa's had done.
I scrabbled backward, tripped over the corner of the fireplace and tumbled toward the floor. He caught me, scooped me up and walked me over to his bed, where he dumped me before returning to the fireplace with a harsh growl.
He threw a log in, struck angrily at a match then glared at me over his shoulder.
"I thought you would take longer...that I'd have more time to start it."
Turning away, he finished building the fire. His shoulders shook as he worked and the reason for all the hate his eyes were throwing at me finally slammed into my chest.
He had realized his mistake in claiming me, maybe even in protecting me in the first place. Now he was furious.
Sitting up, I wrapped my arms around my legs and buried my face against my knees.
"Stop it," he rasped, sneaking up on me and tugging at my arms until I let my hands fall limp against the mattress.
When I continued to hide my gaze from him, he jerked my legs straight, tipped me onto my back and draped his big body over mine.
"Give me your hand," he ordered.
I did, surprise filling me when he interlaced his fingers through mine.
Damn, why did it have to feel so good being touched by him, even when it was just my hand in his?
"You keep wanting to run," he accused. "There's barely been a minute today I couldn't smell it on you. Even when I'm surrounded by water your desire to escape sneaks into the room and fills my snout."
He shifted his weight, forcing my legs to part so his could fill the space between them. His grip on my hand tightened for a second then relaxed. "You're not going anywhere without me until you can transform. You showed an alpha's strength tossing her like a rag doll without shifting. When you can actually shift, you won't need my protection."
A harsh laugh escaped me. "If you're going to wait until I can shift to cut me loose, I'm pretty sure that means you're stuck with me forever. You might want to reconsider your terms for my departure."