North Wolf

by M. A. Everaux

  They watched her go in silence. Connor turned back to his plate and sighed heavily. “Try and find out as much as you can.”

  Jacques nodded and picked up his fork, finishing his steak quickly, obviously eager to be gone.

  Eben went to the side-bar and poured himself a healthy shot of brandy, downing it almost in one swallow. “I want to know how she knows his name.”

  “We did talk about him in the bar,” Christian said dully.

  “Yes, and if she’d been curious then, she would have asked. She knows something about him, somehow.” Connor tapped his chin in thought as Eben resettled himself at the table and started cutting his steak in controlled, vicious movements. “Jacques, see if you can find out if Thomas was aligning himself with anyone. Eben, we need to be sure about this if you’re to call Theron out before the next full moon.”

  “I’ll see what I can find,” Jacques said. “But Thomas was pretty solitary. It may be difficult to find anyone willing to talk about him.”

  “Do what you can.” Connor turned to Eben, his eyes dark with memories. “You know how Gina died. If this goes the way I think it will, you’ll be forced to make the same choice. Remember—it’s better to have her angry with you, even horrified and scared, rather than dead in the hands of your enemies.”

  “I won’t live with that bastard threatening my life and family every other month,” Eben snarled. “He dies.”

  She was shaking too much to sleep when she got to the room. Adrenaline was running amok in her system and made her too jumpy and hyper to even hope for sleep, so she took a bath in the wonderfully large, claw-foot tub. After filling it up nearly to the brim, she climbed in and reclined against the end, sitting as far down in the water as she could.

  It took forty minutes, but eventually her body slowed down to normal speed, and she stopped feeling like her heart was going to jump out of her chest. She was left feeling utterly exhausted. Wasted away to nothing.

  She got out when the water cooled, drying herself off with an almost detached air. It was like her body didn’t even belong to her anymore. She was apart, floating freely above everything, untouched and safe. Except it was a lie. Nothing was safe.

  She cried herself to sleep.

  “Wake up, Gwen…”

  She opened her eyes groggily and blinked into the dark.

  Eben leaned over and kissed her softly. Still sleep-muddled, she opened her mouth to him immediately, inviting the seduction of his tongue. As the kisses deepened, her hands ran over his stomach, loving the feel of his hard silkiness.

  “I want you,” he breathed against her lips, sucking lightly on her bottom lip. He laved it with his tongue, then bit down, using his teeth to wring a moan from her.

  Everything below her waist was suddenly wide awake and wanting him. She clutched at him, digging her fingers into the heavy muscles of his chest as the desire built. Under her hands, his muscles flexed and jumped.

  He stayed on all fours above her, bending down every time he sucked her skin or lapped at her nipple. He buried his hand in her hair, angling her head better, allowing his tongue deeper access. His breathing became harsh with the thrusts of his tongue in her hot mouth, growing deeper and wilder until Gwen was sure she was going to go out of her mind if she didn’t get him inside her.

  “Give me more,” he ordered harshly, his face savage in the shadows.

  Gwen blinked slowly. She trailed her fingers up, along his sides, feeling the bumps of his ribs, the hard muscles of his chest, and the slight contraction of his nipples as she attended them. She swirled her fingers around them until he hissed and groaned.

  She pushed herself up on her hands and kissed the column of his throat. When he rumbled in pleasure, she gently nipped at his skin, trailing lower to his collarbone.

  His breath whooshed out like a steamer. “Lower,” he gritted, pushing at her shoulders gently. “Please, love. Lower.”

  Gwen moved down his body, sliding her legs between his, licking and kissing his chest. She stopped at his nipples and laved the hard nubs with her tongue, over and over until his body shook with tension. His whole body was like that of a statue, hard with tension, but hot to the touch. There was nothing cold about him. Sometimes he may look it, but it was a mirage. Eben ran hot all the time.

  His teeth gritted. “Lower.”

  Taking a deep breath, her hand captured his cock, squeezing it gently before she wiped the pre-cum off the tip. “Here?” she whispered, fondling his testicles softly with her free hand.

  He lowered his head, watching her, his eyes filled with wild things she couldn’t ever hope to understand. “Do it.”

  She was a wimp, a coward. She wasn’t the kind of girl who did things like this. It was the last thought that had her beating the fear down and going for broke.

  She lay beneath him, curved up at the waist, and licked his penis, the first swipe of her tongue shy and curious. The taste of him burst in her mouth, slightly salty but spicy, just like him.

  “God, Gwen!” His breath hitched in his chest as she took him in her mouth, sucking on his length. Her hand crept up and wrapped around the base of him, moving in time with the pulsing of her mouth.

  “Deeper,” he grunted, as he thrust his hips slightly. She took it, but gasped. “Relax your throat,” he gritted out, and flexed his hips again.

  She closed her eyes and let her body feel, without the visuals, and then she found she could take him deeper. It was easier for her—her brain wasn’t able to analyze and say Run for your life! at the sight of his cock. And her reactions to him got stronger with just the feeling of him moving in and out of her mouth. It made it more sensual, special even. It made it easier to hear every gasp and groan that came from his throat, made it easier to feel every thrust of his hips, every bunch of his buttocks. She realized how much more there was to desire and sensuality than just the visual.

  She heard the sheets tear as she swirled her tongue beneath the head of his cock. He gasped, the sound so deep she wasn’t sure what it was at first. “I’m going to come. And you’re going to take it.” His hand threaded into her hair and held her head to him. Her hands clenched against his thighs, and with a shout, his seed shot from him, the spurts hitting the back of her throat.

  Gwen held onto him through his release, obediently swallowing all he gave her. When he was done, she let his cock slide from her mouth, licking the head just before he pulled away. She slid back up to the pillows, not sure if she should be shocked with her behavior and hide her head beneath a pillow, or brazen it out.

  He was on his knees before her. His head stayed bowed and his eyes closed. “Was I too rough?”

  “No,” she whispered. “It was nice.” She rolled to her side and curled in on herself, wondering where her pajamas were. Probably on the floor. She glanced behind her just to check.

  “We’re not done,” he said, his voice almost vicious.

  She shivered slightly. “I’m fine. You don’t have to—”

  “I want to fuck. Hard, long, all night.”

  She stared at him for a minute. “But, you just finished. Don’t you need to wait?”

  His hand reached down and grasped his cock, already hot and hard again. He sat back on his heels and masturbated for her, his movements slow and methodical. His head fell forward again as he watched her from under his brow. “I don’t need long. I’m good all night, and I want to fuck you now.”

  He tugged her forward, lifting her onto his lap. His mouth searched for hers, found it, and plundered, seeking her tongue. His hand manipulated her higher until her heat rubbed against his cock, over and over until she was out of her head to have him.

  “Do you want me?” he asked her harshly, pulling away.

  She couldn’t speak, every nerve in her body was too fired up for her to get a word out. In answer, she slid her hand to his nape and tugged him back down to her, needing some part of him inside her. She gasped against his mouth, demanding his attention.

  He groaned and kiss
ed her, pulling her legs around his waist as he positioned her. His jaw clenched a second before he pulled her down over him, impaling her in one fast motion.

  The scream died in her throat as Eben used his hips brutally, pulling her off before he jerked her down again. Gwen gasped and her eyes closed as she absorbed the sensations of his aggressive manipulations. Her hips rocked against him, searching for more stimulation, rubbing closer and closer against his smooth skin with every surge of his hips.

  “Do you like that?” he asked, abruptly stopping the movements. She cried out, frustrated and wanting. With a hard smile, he slid a finger over her clit, rubbing the fevered flesh delicately, once, twice, and then he stopped.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered, her whole body left wanting. She needed more. Not much, just enough that it released the tension and she went over. And she needed it now!

  He stared at her, all menace as his jaw clenched. “Who told you about Theron, Gwen?”

  She sucked in a breath and rolled her eyes to the ceiling, trying to get herself under control. “Don’t,” she groaned. “Don’t do this to us. Don’t ruin this!”

  “I want the person who told you about Theron,” he ordered, his eyes icy orbs in the darkness of the room. He pushed his hips at her slightly, enough to make her shudder, then he stopped again. “Where did you hear that name?”

  She gasped and closed her eyes, needing the peace of darkness under such a painful onslaught. “The…pub,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “Don’t lie!”

  He threw her off his lap and onto the bed. She landed with a bounce, and he came down on top of her a second later. He pulled her arms over her head and locked them there with one hand. “Now,” he said through gritted teeth. “Tell me.”

  Gwen breathed slowly, in and out, and felt the remnants of the pre-orgasm in her body, still there, but cooling with each breath. She closed her eyes against him and turned her head, taking the only escape she could. “No.”

  He settled himself between her thighs and brushed his cock against her heat. “I want to know.”

  Slowly, she shook her head against the pillow and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  “Tell me!”

  “I can’t,” she cried, tears escaping from beneath her eyelids.

  “Damn you,” he said darkly, and in one move, he slid inside her, moving quickly as he fucked her, his mouth clamped shut and fury in his eyes. A single tear escaped from the corner of his eye, only to be brushed away as he pressed his lips to hers, desperately seeking her tongue.

  Gwen’s eyes flew open the moment his cock touched her, and he began moving with harsh, jerky thrusts. She tried to pull her hands free, but he kept them prisoner.

  “Don’t stop,” she begged, pulling her mouth away and winding her legs around his hips in an effort to keep him inside. “Don’t leave me like that again.”

  “Shut up,” he hissed, and surged into her harder, enough to make her gasp. His free hand crept down and caressed her clit, then dipped slightly lower, massaging her gently.

  It was so good. So good! Stronger than anything else, sweeter, yet also more bitter. She couldn’t speak anymore, and concentrated on the feelings sparking through her body, like fireworks during a Fourth of July display. It was so hot, each buildup to her orgasms sending her higher and higher, until she couldn’t take it anymore.

  She burst suddenly, crying out with it. Eben removed his hand, and grasped her hips, pulling them higher over his arms as he continued thrusting through her orgasm. He grunted with each move, then shuddered over her and buried himself one last time, as deeply as he could, gritting his teeth as he came in long waves. He let his head fall to her shoulder, and lay still.

  The silence lay between them, uncomfortable and foreboding. He pulled away from her and settled on his side. “I want to know who told you about Theron.”

  Gwen turned away from him, a tear running down her cheek. “I heard it in the pub.”

  He turned, snarling and deadly. “Stay silent, I don’t give a fuck, but never, ever lie to me again.” He got up and jerked his jeans back on. The door slammed behind him as he left.

  The silence surrounded her as she tried to make plans. One thing was certain—mate or no, it was time to leave.

  Chapter Eleven

  Eben returned to bed at two in the morning. He didn’t touch her or say anything as he slipped under the covers and fell asleep. Gwen waited two hours before she got up. She dressed quickly and threw a few things into a plastic grocery bag. She let herself out of the house without a backward glance.

  She stole his keys off the hook by the front door and used them to unlock the garage. Once in, she flipped on the lights and surveyed the possibilities.

  She wasn’t a very good driver. Her father had taught her on a tractor once, but it was over six years ago. She just hoped she wouldn’t screw up too badly.

  There were only two cars in the garage, Eben’s SUV and a small compact. Off to the side was Christian’s motorcycle. Guilt tugged at her heart for taking one of their cars. Of course she planned on parking it somewhere for one of them to pick up once she got to a bus station, but still, it wasn’t a nice thing to do. Sighing, she took the compact, rationalizing that it was the least expensive, and in the case that something did go wrong, she wouldn’t be paying for it the rest of her life.

  Is this a good idea? she asked herself, sitting in the driver’s seat. Her immediate answer was an emphatic No! But no matter how she tried, she couldn’t see any other options. Eben wouldn’t stop pushing, prodding and manipulating her until he had the information he wanted, and then he’d go on a rampage and Theron would die, all because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. And a death on her head wasn’t something she could live with.

  Taking a breath, she started the car and backed up.

  Driving was easier than she expected, although after she thought about it a bit more, how difficult could it be with only two pedals? But the snowy roads gave her a bit of a problem, and the first time she hit one that had a large drift covering it, she ended up driving over the fluffy white snow slowly, wincing as her tires spun. But she didn’t slide, and she convinced herself it was a sign. A good one.

  She’d be okay, and it would all work out. She’d find a nice little town and get a job at a restaurant or a bookstore, maybe. She would even get her mother to send her birth certificate and Social Security stuff so she’d be legal. And then maybe, after she was settled and secure and a comfortable amount of time had passed, she’d go and see Eben again. She shivered at the thought. Maybe not.

  Theron watched as the little white car went by at a staid speed. The small form hunched behind the wheel was easily identified, and made his heart sing.

  He pulled out his cell phone, hit speed dial and waited until it was picked up. “Get your ass up. His bitch is going to be driving past your place in ten minutes.”

  There was silence on the other end, and then the voice said, “You got it.”

  He slid the phone back into his pocket and smiled, watching as the car disappeared slowly over the hill.

  The ringing was driving him crazy. Christian reached out for the phone blindly, desperate to make it stop. “Hello?” he mumbled.

  “Christian!” Jacques yelled. “Christ, man, get up and find Eben. We’ve got movement from Theron’s end. I think they’ve got his mate.”

  Christian lay still for a second, and then the sentence registered in his brain. He shot up in bed and was out of his room and down the stairs in seconds. He barged into Eben’s room, his eyes wild and searching.

  “Fuck!” She wasn’t there.

  He threw the phone at Eben, who turned and caught it in his raised hand. “Get up you son of a bitch!” Christian shoved his hand through his hair and glared. “Your girl’s flown the coop.” He whirled around and ran up the stairs to get dressed.

  Twenty seconds later, Eben’s howl shook the entire house.

  Gwen looked at her position in the
road, or more accurately, in the ditch. It wasn’t her fault the car slid into a bank. It was the squirrel’s.

  She leaned back against the seat with her eyes closed and called the squirrel every inappropriate word she could think of, ending with the mother of all words, fucker. It felt good to say out loud, so she did for about thirty seconds, ending by slamming her hands against the steering wheel. The car gave no reaction.

  “Need help?” someone shouted through her window.

  She looked over and saw a large truck stopped just ten feet behind her. A bearded man with a Grizzly Adams appearance stood beside it, his form shrouded by a heavy leather coat. He was smoking a cigar as he leaned on his truck.

  She opened the door and got out, shooting a look of disgust at the car. She was a disgrace, a failure, not even able to drive more than an hour without getting stuck. Eben would probably chain her to his bed for the rest of her natural life.

  “I’d appreciate it,” she said, looking over at him and trying to appear competent. “I was trying to avoid hitting a squirrel.”

  For some reason, he laughed at her, so hard tears streamed from his eyes. He had to wipe them away with his leather gloves, twice.

  “Well,” he wheezed, finally standing up straight, “I appreciate it. That’s the best laugh I’ve had in about three years.” He reached out a hand to her. “My name’s Matthew Granville, hon.”

  Gwen shook his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Gwen Branson.”

  His hand closed over hers for a moment, and then she was yanked forward, her arms wrenched behind her back.

  She gasped with the sudden pain of it, and then shrieked as something cold was tightened around her wrists, locking them together.

  “Sorry to do this to you, Gwennie,” he said easily. “My Alpha’s called on me, and I don’t like to disappoint him.”

  She tried to run, but he just kept a hold of her arms. “Eben told you to tie my wrists together?”