Claimed

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Emma took a step away from him. What in the hell had she been thinking?

  He took a step forward, reaching to release his cuff links, a dark flush across his cheeks, his eyes heated silver and trained on her. His cuff links slid out and he unfastened each button with sure hands, striding forward until he stood but a breath away. The shirt cascaded to pool on the plush carpet, revealing that wicked sharp tattoo and hard tanned muscle.

  The scent of sandalwood and male whispered over her skin until her nerves tingled with need.

  His heated hands encircled her biceps, and he gently turned her to face the shaded window. She shivered. The release of the corset’s hidden zipper pierced the silence. The breath caught in her throat when he slid the material off her, his immortal body so big and strong behind her.

  Gentle hands released the pins from her hair. Curls tumbled down to cover her shoulders.

  Dage stepped in, winding one arm around her bare waist, pressing his heated chest to her bare back. Her body melted right into his, as if issuing one big sigh. His other hand swept her hair to the side, and his mouth descended to run along her shoulder. The moist warmth sent shivers through her body and she tilted her head to grant him greater access. His teeth scraped her jugular as he traveled so slowly up her neck to her jaw.

  He flattened a hand against her bare midriff, just under the nipples all but crying for his attention. What was he doing to her? She couldn’t move if someone firebombed the hotel.

  The room spun when he turned her, his mouth dropping to hers, his tongue sliding in to explore. To taste. Tempt. Take.

  Fire rushed through her. She stepped further into him, both hands tracing his abs up to his chest, appreciating the raw strength the king covered by diplomacy and design. She’d waited so long for him, to feel him. Just this once.

  He clutched her hair, tilting her head so he could go deeper, a growl emitting from his throat that somehow caused liquid need to coat her thighs. Prickles of erotic pain cascaded across her scalp. She fumbled with his belt buckle, releasing a sigh of relief when it unclasped. Sliding the zipper down, she took him in her hand. Part of him, anyway. Hot. Hard. Male.

  He released her mouth to concentrate on her skirt, releasing the side zipper until the material dropped to the floor. His eyes flared at her silk thong just before he snapped it in two. The tiny scrap of material joined the skirt.

  Kicking off his pants, he lifted her in a move of such casual strength she had to fight a purr. He paused next to the bed. “Are you certain about the marking, love?” Desire and need swirled deep sky through those incredible eyes.

  Temptation. To belong with him for all time. But the visions told the truth—the king might be destroyed by her if she didn’t beat fate. “I’m sure.” Her voice waivered. She didn’t sound sure. She needed to retain at least part of her sanity. It’d be too easy to get lost in the king’s plans.

  Regret filled his eyes for a moment before he lay her down, following her to take one nipple into his mouth. He rumbled a sound of pure contentment, then his clever fingers found her.

  She almost shot off the bed. He inserted one finger, then two in her—criss-crossing until she clutched her hands in his thick hair, moving against him. “Dage, now.”

  He chuckled against her skin, his mouth tracing a liquid path around each breast to kiss her nipples, her navel, and finally down to her core. His broad hands slid up her thighs to tug them apart and his mouth went to work.

  She arched off the bed as he favored her with slow licks, humming in pure appreciation, the vibrations nearly sending her over the edge. Nothing could’ve kept her from glancing toward his dark head as he feasted. Deep silver eyes met her gaze, and with a lopsided grin, he closed his entire mouth over her clit. And sucked.

  The world exploded. She cried out, pressing into his mouth, stars exploding behind her eyes. Her entire body short-circuited. The only thought in her head was his name. She rode out the waves and slowly lowered back to the bed. Her heart thundered so loud it echoed through her ears.

  Dage maneuvered up until he hovered, poised at her entrance, his inhuman gaze piercing hers. Her thighs grasped his hips, pressing inward. More. She needed more.

  His hand clasped her hip. “You’re mine, Emma. The sooner you accept that the better.” Heat engulfed her mouth as his lips devoured her, and he drove inside her with a force that shook the bed. Maybe the room.

  She locked her ankles around his truly suburb ass, one hand fisting in his hair, the other digging into his hip as he started to move, his mouth busy on hers.

  Sensations ripped through her—the fire at her mouth, the heat at her core. She met him thrust for thrust, so many feelings crashing into her that her mind shut down. Raw hunger had her returning his kiss, sweeping inside his mouth to duel with his tongue. She took.

  Spikes of fire whipped inside her, bearing down an orgasm that rippled through her entire body until her ears rang. She rode it out, clutching to Dage, all sanity gone. He caught her cry in his mouth, his fingers bruising her flesh as he growled his release against her skin.

  Her thighs released his damp hips as the ripples slowly subsided. Dage shortened his thrusts until he remained motionless inside her. For one brief moment, his heartbeat echoed throughout her body, so full of emotion she had to blink away tears.

  He rolled to the side, spooning her into his large body and grabbing the bedspread to cover them. “Are you all right, love?”

  She stretched like a satisfied cat, forcing all emotion into a box. “Fantastic.” A tingling set up through her veins as if carbonation mixed with her blood. Nerves flared to life in her extremities.

  No. Anger and dread pooled near her solar plexus. “Did you mark me?”

  He stiffened behind her. “Of course not. I said I wouldn’t.” Thick arms tightened their hold around her waist and his breath stirred her hair. “Tonight, anyway.”

  She ignored the not-so-veiled threat as well as the renewed desire beginning to hum throughout her pores. “I feel different. Powerful.” What the hell had he done to her?

  He shrugged. “You’re my mate, love. Your body knows that, even if you don’t. The marking is only one part of the process.”

  The mattress dipped and she found herself on her back, her gaze held captive by his. “I told you I won’t be forced into this by fate.”

  He nodded and his lips whispered against her. “Yes, you did. But I’m not fate.” Slowly sliding inside her, he nipped her lip. “I’ll give you time, Emma. But if you think I’m letting you go, you’ve misread me.” His polite, matter of fact tone did nothing to hide the determination in each word.

  A chill wound down her spine even as a warm hum set up in her core. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he started to thrust. Gently at first, then with a strength that had her nails digging into his skin.

  She’d argue the point with him later.

  Chapter 5

  Controlling his irritation with the two feuding leaders, Dage finished his third meeting of the day. How in the hell had these assholes become leaders? He rested his elbows on the small conference table and nodded to Felix, the head witch of the New Jersey coven who sat to his right. “You’ll agree to the new boundaries?”

  The young witch flashed black painted nails and bit his lip, his bloodshot gaze sliding to where Conn leaned against the door of the makeshift office, a muscle ticking in his large jaw. Dage fought a grin. Conn hated diplomatic shit and would probably solve the problem by shooting both jackasses.

  Dage stamped down on his own basic need to do just that, forcing diplomacy to the surface once again. He took a drink of his grape energy drink, rolled his shoulders against the feeling of being trapped in a cage, and pierced the witch with a hard gaze.

  “Um, yes.” Felix shifted back to face Dage. “We’ll agree to the new boundaries.”

  Ignoring the hotel’s lemon cleanser scent, Dage turned toward Niles, the shit-kicking cowboy vampire who’d been trying to retake land lost by his uncle
centuries ago. “Niles?” The dumbass had sat with his back to Conn and the door. Not smart.

  Niles perched his battered Stetson farther back on his head, his dilated eyes narrowing. “Ah, I guess.”

  What a couple of morons. Dage stood. “The papers will be ready for signature after the tea today. Gentlemen”—he allowed his canines to drop—“if either of you break this contract, I’ll come after you myself.”

  Both men made a hasty exit and Conn slammed the door shut. “I hate this shit.”

  Dage ignored the shredding pain in his hand from the unused marking. “I know. But Talen’s with Cara who isn’t feeling well, Jase disappeared with some redhead, and Kane is on a jet heading this way.”

  Conn’s eyes narrowed. “Cara’s still sick?”

  Dage shrugged. “I guess she had morning sickness with Janie, so she isn’t concerned. Though Talen ...”

  Conn grimaced. “I’ll keep my distance.”

  “Good plan.” Dage stood and straightened his dark suit coat before striding toward the door. “We need to get to the tea. You’re sitting with the prophets.”

  Conn hissed out a breath. “Seriously? Damn it. Milner’s on me to retrieve Moira and procreate. I can’t stand that guy.”

  Dage paused. “I have a feeling you’re preparing to do just that.”

  Conn nodded. “I am. I’ve waited long enough. She’s a full witch now and it’s time—after we get things settled here.” He yanked open the door. “But why do I have to sit with him?”

  Dage stalked into the hallway. “It’s either the prophets or the Bane’s Council. Considering we’re keeping something from them, I thought I’d face that challenge.”

  “Maggie,” Conn breathed.

  Yeah, Maggie. A young wolf shifter who’d been infected with the virus, and was hiding in Dage’s Colorado headquarters. Hiding from the Bane’s Council, whose job it was to hunt down and kill werewolves. “During the full moon, Maggie managed to turn into a wolf and not the werewolf trying to get out of her. Hopefully the virus will run its course and fail.”

  Conn nodded. “The virus will fail. If the Kurjans were able to turn immortal creatures into werewolf slaves, well ...”

  It would be a disaster. Dage paused in the middle of the hallway. “Do you think the law requires us to inform the Bane’s Council about Maggie?”

  Conn shook his head. “No. I think you were right. The law requires notification if we suspect a werewolf so the council can investigate and destroy. Maggie isn’t a werewolf. She’s a wolf shifter.”

  Who might become a werewolf. Dage started walking again. “Besides, Jordan has put her under the protection of his pride. All I need is his going to war with the council.”

  “We stick with Jordan.” Conn threw open the double doors to the ballroom, nicely set with floral tea cups. “Whose fucking idea was it to throw a tea every ten years at the symposium?”

  Dage shrugged, waving a hand to Terent Vilks, the head of the Bane’s Council. Time to dance.

  Exchanging pleasantries as he maneuvered between tables, Dage’s gaze kept returning to the dark haired beauty chatting with Jordan at the head table. His mate—whether she liked it or not. A polite smile slid across Dage’s face as he gave a nod to Jordan. “Where’s Katie?” While the young lioness and Jordan weren’t a couple, she usually accompanied him on business issues.

  Jordan cleared his throat. “She’s not feeling well, and Terent dropped by to bring her some special tea.”

  Terent rolled his eyes. “It’s lavender tea—guaranteed to cure the common cold. I was not hitting on your woman, cat.”

  Jordan’s eyebrow rose. “We’re just friends. You know that.”

  Terent quirked his lip but remained silent. Dage bit back his own smile, taking his seat next to Emma, brushing a kiss to her cheek as he did so. She might as well get used to belonging to him. “Kate did say she was fighting a cold last night.”

  Terent flashed strong canines in a bronze face. “Well ... cats.” The wolf shifter gave a mock sympathetic shudder of his shoulders.

  Jordan grinned. “Listen, pup. I believe the last time we played one on one, I schooled you.”

  Reaching for a roll, Terent shrugged massive shoulders under a gray jacket that brought out matching streaks in his deep eyes. “You cheated.” He spread butter across the pastry. “You had Katie trip me, and it was either fall on and flatten the poor girl or release the ball.” He pushed the roll basket toward Emma. “I’m sorry Katie’s not feeling well.”

  Dage cleared his throat. “Where’s the rest of the council?”

  “The other two members are hunting down rogue werewolves,” Terent said.

  Dage made a pretense of sipping his water, wondering again if he should notify his friend about Maggie. If the council had any idea Maggie might possibly be a werewolf, all hell would break loose. Emma’s hand on his knee jerked his attention to her.

  “How were your morning meetings?” she asked with a lift of one finely arched eyebrow.

  “Productive.” He flattened his hand over hers, more than liking the feeling of having her near. “Sorry to leave so early.”

  A pretty flush colored her high cheekbones. She nodded her thanks to a waiter who placed a scone on her plate while another began pouring tea. “I stopped by to see Cara on the way to this tea.” A frown marred Emma’s face. “Talen’s going to drive her up the wall.”

  Dage grinned. “We take centuries to find our mates, love. He can be excused for being a bit overprotective.”

  Terent grabbed his cup and pushed back from the table. “Why do I always have to give the council update during the friggin’ tea?” he muttered for his table alone to hear.

  Jordan chuckled. “That’s my favorite part of this whole damn week.”

  During the tea, anger began to roll in Dage’s gut while Terent gave the statistics for how many werewolves had been created the last ten years. Most had been captured and destroyed by the council.

  Terent returned to his seat with the applause still dying down. “I’m good for ten years, my friends.”

  Emma cleared her throat. “You didn’t let any of the werewolves live?” She pursed her pink lips as if calculating scientific formulas in her intelligent head.

  Terent frowned. “Of course not. When humans are bitten by a werewolf, they turn into one—pure animal wanting to eat and kill. They don’t live for long, even if they’re bound by a master with a spell.”

  Dage patted her hand, knowing she’d keep quiet about Maggie. He had seen the spell performed once in his youth. The werewolf stood shackled in silver while an incantation was read by the new master. Dage leaned toward Terent. “Your numbers were extremely high this time.”

  Terent’s gaze narrowed. “Yes. Someone is purposefully trying to create slaves. Short term, anyway. We’re on it.” He raised an eyebrow at Dage. “We need your data on the virus and the goal to impact shifters, though frankly I don’t see it happening.”

  “Kane will be here tomorrow and has cleared his schedule to work with you,” Dage said. His brother would share most of the data, anyway. Everything but the fact that one little wolf shifter had already been infected. Damn but he hated lying to his friend. The fact that Dage made a good king, could lie easily for the sake of diplomacy and the common good truly served to show what a bastard he’d become.

  Emma placed a hand over his and he stilled, swiveling his gaze to her soft eyes—understanding eyes complimenting a small smile. She gave him a reassuring pat.

  Damn. How had she read him so easily? His shoulders relaxed from her comforting gesture even as his mind spun. His mate.

  The tea over, Emma placed her napkin on her empty plate and stood. “I think I’ll go check on Cara.”

  The rest of the table stood, and Dage grasped her arm, taken aback for a moment by the fragility of the bones beneath his hands. Fate had created her for him, and he’d be damned if his world would cause her harm. “I’ll accompany you.” He smiled at his friends. �
��See you at the general meeting in a few hours.”

  They had almost made it to the door when Prophet Milner sidled up. “Well now, isn’t this a grand sight?” His beady dark eyes sparked with approval, then his hooked nose sniffed the air. “Wait a minute. You haven’t marked her yet?” Bony hands went to bony hips.

  Dage forced a half smile. “My private life is private, Prophet.” The ability to couch a warning as polite conversation had been taught in his infancy.

  “You have a destiny to fulfill.” Parchment thin skin stretched over sharp bones, giving Milner the look of a buzzard. The man wouldn’t know a warning if it bit him on his nonexistent ass.

  Emma shifted. “I will not be marked, Prophet. Get that through your head, now.”

  Milner chuckled, his pale hands clasping together. “Of course you will, my dear. Our people need a queen.”

  “No. I will not be your queen.” Emma’s lips firmed and sparks of fire lit her pretty blue eyes. “I’m heading home as soon as my sister is settled in.”

  Rage shot through the king like he’d never known. She’d denied their future to another person. It was one thing to need a little persuading, quite another to publicly reject him. The woman had another think coming if she thought to pat his hand, offering the supporting comfort of a mate and then take it away. He tightened his grip on her arm and nodded to Milner. “See you at the meeting.”

  It took every ounce of Dage’s formidable control to continue escorting his brat of a mate out of the room without tossing her stubborn ass over his shoulder. Anger and need flared through him in equal measure. Damn but she made his blood boil.

  She jerked her arm back. Unwise move. His hand tightened even further. “I strongly suggest you refrain from speaking until we reach privacy, love.”

  “Let me go, damn it,” she hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

  Now she kept things between them.

  He didn’t answer her, just yanked her into the hall and to the family quarters where he nodded at the two guards. “If anyone tries to get past you, shoot them. We will not be disturbed.” Ignoring her protests, he tugged Emma down the passageway to the gathering room. It was time to get some fucking things straight.