by Lacey Savage
Her breath caught as a flash of memory danced across her senses. She vividly recalled the feel of Donovan’s cock moving inside her, his howl of pleasure as he came, the way his orgasm set off hers. She remembered, too, the exact moment his teeth sank into her flesh. There’d been something so primal and animalistic about that bite. Yes, there’d been violence in the act, but she didn’t feel attacked. She felt…protected. Cherished. Wanted.
Roxi shook her head and slammed the locker door closed. “Roxana, you are being an idiot.” She knew it, too. Her mother would have a fit if she knew Roxi had barely escaped her most recent romantic encounter and now sported something akin to an animal bite.
She frowned as she walked out of the changing room. Was that what Donovan was? Some sort of animal? She’d seen him transform from a wolf into a man, but she couldn’t trust her senses to relay what really happened. Maybe she’d been in shock after he bit her, and her addled mind had conjured something for her to focus on. Or maybe—
“There you are!” Brad clapped his hands together. He stood on the other side of the harness and beckoned to her. “Come on up. We don’t have much time before the doors open.”
Roxi scanned the room, but she and Brad were alone. Her pulse picked up speed. “Where is Donovan?”
Brad pushed his glasses up his nose and sighed. “I don’t know. He didn’t show up for his shift and he’s not answering his phone.”
Disappointment settled like a ball of lead in her stomach. Her hands went to the belt of her robe but her gaze dropped to the floor. Donovan had never missed a day of work. Was he avoiding her? Would he come back? Would she ever get an explanation for what happened that afternoon?
Leann had been furious that Roxi had chosen to cover for Donovan with the cops. After the officers left, Leann had let Roxi know exactly what she thought about her decision, and her tirade wasn’t gentle in the least.
Roxi sank her teeth into her bruised lower lip. Had she done the right thing? It seemed she never knew where Donovan was concerned. She could only follow her gut and hope it didn’t lead her astray.
“Up you go, Roxi.” Brad beamed a smile at her.
He was cute, in a misunderstood-artist kind of way. Tonight he wore a black turtleneck over plaid pants. His fashion sense left a lot to be desired, but she trusted him. The first few weeks she’d been at Moderne, he’d checked in on her hourly just to make sure she was comfortable. If she wasn’t, he’d adjust the straps, loosen the restraints—whatever it took for her to remain up there for the rest of her shift.
If Donovan wasn’t here to protect her from overzealous groping hands, Brad would make a suitable replacement. She didn’t know him well, but she knew he cared about her. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her while he was here.
“All right,” she agreed, climbing into the harness. “Let us do this thing.”
Brad’s hands didn’t linger on her skin. He was quick and proficient in his movements. She appreciated his speed and professionalism, but she missed Donovan’s tender touch, his smooth caresses and the heat in his gaze as he looked at her.
Brad was just about to cover her eyes with the blindfold when voices carried from the next room, drifting through the open archway to reach her.
“What the hell?” Brad frowned and moved toward the doorway. “We’re not open yet.”
“You are now. Both open and closed for the evening.”
The familiar voice sent a chill down Roxi’s spine.
She lifted her head and groaned when she caught sight of Kastor standing in the archway. He had his hands on his hips, his leather jacket parted to reveal the gun holster at his waist. Behind Kastor stood two men, mirror images of one another. Both were bald and both sported tattoos of skulls on their clean-shaven heads. Their eyes were cold and empty, just like Kastor’s, except his held the unmistakable glint of cruel intelligence when he looked at her.
“What are you doing here?” Roxi’s voice came out thin and frightened, and she hated herself for that show of weakness.
“So this is where you work. It is shameful. Your mother would be humiliated if she knew of your filthy acts.”
Roxi narrowed her eyes. “You leave my mother out of this.”
“As you wish.” He dipped his head in mock acknowledgement of her words. “It is you I want.”
Her blood turned to ice. “I thought I made it perfectly clear the other night. I am not interested.”
“Yet here you are, naked for all the world to see.” Kastor sneered. “They can have you, but not me?”
Fear traveled through Roxi, cleaving a wide path in its wake. Her belly clenched and the bite mark on her shoulder throbbed and heated. “You misunderstand what I do.”
“You are a whore.”
“Gentlemen…” Brad held up his hands. “The gallery isn’t open yet. If you’ll take a brochure from the front hall, you’ll see that Roxi is here to be appreciated and respected. I’ll not have you talk to her like that in my place of business.”
“Did no one ever tell this man it is impolite to interrupt when others are speaking?”
The sign Kastor gave one of the goons behind him was so subtle, Roxi nearly missed it. But the man didn’t. He pulled his gun out of its holster and before Brad could take a single step back, the goon pistol-whipped him across the face.
Brad grunted and collapsed in a heap on the floor.
* * * * *
Donovan had been wandering the cold streets for hours, still reeling from the afternoon’s events. He clenched his fists at his sides and kept his gaze down as he walked, nearly bowling over anyone unlucky enough to get in his way.
His wolf had gotten away from him today. For all his control, he hadn’t been able to restrain the beast. It had leapt through his skin and into the world, as hungry for Roxi as Donovan had been. He couldn’t blame the wolf—not entirely—but the creature’s actions had repercussions for them both.
Donovan had been cultivating the willpower to shift on demand since he’d turned fourteen and had first become aware of the beast lying dormant inside him. Until then, it had been quiet, content to wait for Donovan to approach manhood. The transformation from man to wolf had been painful and confusing, like human puberty, only a hundred times worse. It had taken Donovan years to feel confident he wouldn’t suddenly sprout fur in weird places just from talking to a pretty girl.
Not that it mattered much as long as he was among his pack, where those types of reactions were expected from teenage boys. And in the small village of Thompson Falls, Alberta, everyone was pack. The clan had deep roots in the area, having been around for hundreds of years. They guarded their privacy fiercely, and came together to ensure outsiders—human and shifter alike—never settled among them.
He’d have been happy to live out the rest of his life right there in Thompson Falls, the way his father and brothers still did. But Samantha had felt trapped in their small village, stifled by ancient customs and traditions she abhorred. So when she ran away, taking his pride with her, Donovan had no choice but to follow. He’d thought he could bring her home. He’d been so damn naïve. It never occurred to him that she wouldn’t want to return. Not that day. Not ever.
She never even considered how her actions would affect him. A wolf shifter without a mate was incomplete. And one who’d lost his female because he wasn’t strong enough to keep her by his side, well…he became the laughingstock of the pack.
Scowling, Donovan climbed the stairs from the Central Park North subway station two at a time and emerged onto 110th Street. Weaving his way through a couple of tourists snapping pictures of each other among drifting snowflakes, he entered the park and found himself in a place that was as close as he could get to home.
The northern-central part of the park wasn’t popular with tourists, who gravitated toward the west side or the various attractions like Belvedere Fountain or the John Lennon Memorial. Out here he most often ran into locals, and on days like these, even folks who normally made thi
s route a part of their jogging or biking circuit stayed indoors.
He needed to be close to nature in a way New York’s concrete buildings didn’t often allow. Out here, he could at least imagine running free. He wouldn’t, of course. He wasn’t foolish enough to give his beast free rein. He’d scare tourists and locals alike, and the last thing he wanted was animal control on his ass.
The wolf had quieted since tasting Roxi. When Donovan turned his attention inward to check on the beast, he found him curled up and content, finally at peace with the world in a way he hadn’t been since Samantha left.
Donovan frowned. No, that wasn’t true. He’d never known his wolf to be happy. Resigned, sure. Often moody and restless. But content? Never.
“Fuck,” he murmured under his breath. Even now, the bond the wolf had created between Donovan and Roxi was growing stronger. His bite would leave a scar on her skin, but wouldn’t change her in any other way. She could have a normal life without him, never knowing he’d claimed her at all.
Things would never be that simple for him. He could still taste her blood on his tongue, and the heady flavor made it hard to think about anything but being with her again. Remembering the way she’d writhed, her seductive body undulating with her movements, caused need to ricochet through him.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t all he remembered. He could still see her eyes, wide with fear and shock, as she stared at him while he shifted from wolf to human. And the horror written all over her face when she realized he’d bitten her. He had so much to explain and no idea where to start.
He slowed as he neared a bench, his mind still whirling. A thin layer of snow had accumulated on the wooden surface. He brushed it off with his palm then sat on a corner and pulled out his cell phone. This was one phone call he’d never planned to make. But he’d initiated the mating ritual with a human female, and she wasn’t the only one to whom he needed to come clean.
“Hello?”
The sound of his father’s voice, gruff like his own but crackled with age, made his chest tighten. “Dad.”
A sharp, indrawn breath reached his ears. “Donovan.”
Homesickness turned the ache in Donovan’s chest to lava. He’d stayed away too long, but the last time he’d been home the pack had treated him like an outsider. They’d made it clear he wasn’t welcome among them until he returned with a suitable mate who could take Samantha’s place. The pack had lost a female. They blamed Donovan. He owed them, as much to rebuild their numbers as to redeem himself.
“You’ve found a mate, eh? It’s about bloody time, son.”
Donovan’s mouth twisted in a grimace. “There’s something you should know. My mate… She’s not… Well, she’s…” He took a deep breath, realizing he had no idea how to break the news to his father. As the Alpha of the Thompson Falls pack, Doug Armstrong’s word was law. Rigid pack rules and traditions had been drilled into Donovan’s head since he was a small pup, and he knew better than anyone what Doug expected of him. Of them all.
“She’s what?” The impatience in his father’s tone was unmistakable. “Spit it out already.”
Donovan sighed. He’d always envisioned strolling into Thompson Falls with a beautiful shifter at his side, a female his pack would accept unconditionally. In his fantasies, she was a remarkable specimen of a wolf shifter. Now he pictured Roxi, stunningly beautiful, sure, but vulnerable and delicate.
The wolves would descend on her like starving jackals on a wounded deer. They’d mock, taunt and test her until they stripped her of every shred of confidence she possessed. She’d never be one of them, no matter how hard she tried. Without the shifter gene running through her blood, Roxi had no chance of being accepted by his pack. They’d make her miserable until they chased her out of town. Was that really the kind of life Donovan wanted to subject her to?
He’d been able to protect her from the overly bold patrons at Moderne. But could he protect her from his own kind?
“She’s human,” Donovan blurted out. He braced himself for the tirade sure to follow.
“Donovan.” The old man uttered his name on a sigh, like he’d just breathed his last. “What am I going to do with you?”
The emotion in his father’s voice sent a wave of uncertainty crashing into Donovan’s soul. He thought he knew all of Doug’s different guises. The strong, authoritative pack Alpha. The disciplinarian father intent on shaping his sons into outstanding wolf shifters. The sweet-talking diplomat who negotiated treaties with other packs and human settlements. But the vulnerability in his voice now was completely foreign.
“The wolf chose her.” Donovan scrubbed a hand over his face. His fingers had long ago gone numb from the cold, and he could barely feel his jaw when he touched it. He sighed. If he was going to come clean, he needed to tell the whole truth. “We both chose her. She’s…” His mind drifted to her flawless skin, her beaming smile, the way his name sounded on her lips. “Perfect.”
“Not for the pack, she isn’t.”
As much as Donovan hated to admit it, his father was right. “I won’t be returning home then.” His stomach bottomed out as he uttered the words. It made the most sense that he should stay here, in New York, where wolf shifters were so much more civilized. They followed their animalistic impulses behind closed doors at places like The Wolf’s Den. Roxi would never have to be exposed to his pack’s behavior.
Doug swore, loudly and creatively. “No. That’s unacceptable. You’ve already been gone too long. You have to come home. Now.”
Indecision tore through Donovan. He yearned to go home. Until a few days ago, returning to Thompson Falls was all he wanted. But things had changed. Roxi had thrown his world upside down and now he craved her with every cell in his body. “I can’t.”
“Bring the human, if you must. We need you. The pack…” Doug sighed. It was clear he wanted to say more, but held back. “Just come home.”
Loyalties warred within him, so strong that even his wolf raised its head. Things were off at home. He could hear the exhaustion in his father’s voice and it worried him. But being with Roxi was paramount now that he’d marked her. And her safety came first.
“I’m sorry.” Donovan set his jaw. “I just needed you to know what’s happened.”
The silence stretched on until Donovan thought his father might have hung up. But then Doug said, “I’m glad you called,” and the tension drained from Donovan’s shoulders.
“Does your human know what you are?” Doug asked.
“She knows. She just doesn’t understand.”
“Then you’ve got to explain it to her.”
Sunlight burst through a dark cloud above Donovan’s head, making him squint as he stared at the bright snow blanketing the ground. His pulse quickened, and he gave voice to the uncertainty rolling through him. “What if she doesn’t accept me?”
“You’ve marked her?”
He remembered the way his teeth felt sinking into her flesh. The taste of her still hovered on his lips, as heady as the moment he’d bitten her. “I have.”
“Then she’s yours. She might struggle with what you are, but she won’t turn away.”
Donovan gripped the phone tighter, realizing this was the reason he’d called. He’d wanted reassurance from his father. Reassurance, if not outright acceptance. “Thank you,” he murmured as he rose from the bench.
His soul felt lighter than it had in years. His beast was joyful inside him. He still had to find a way to make things right with his pack, but that would come. He needed to take things one at a time, and the first order of business was seeing his mate.
Doug grunted. “Your brothers will want to know you called. They’ll ask about your mate. What should I tell them?”
Donovan drew in a deep breath. A smile broke out on his face and he quickened his steps. “Tell them her name is Roxi.”
Chapter Seven
Brad wasn’t moving.
Raw terror filled Roxi’s veins. Tears stung her eyes. She jerked in th
e harness but the bonds were too tight. She was utterly helpless, strung up like a side of beef and fully at Kastor’s cruel mercy.
Kastor stood at her side. He’d been watching her for the past few minutes, his icy gaze raking her body like groping fingers. She shuddered under the scrutiny and clenched her jaw to keep from saying something that might enrage him further.
As it was, he looked absolutely furious. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared as he gawked at her. She didn’t want to imagine what he concocted in that evil head of his. So she kept glancing at Brad, hoping he’d stir. He didn’t. She had no way of knowing whether he was unconscious, or worse.
“He needs a doctor,” Roxi blurted out. “Help him!”
Kastor didn’t even glance in Brad’s direction, but he lifted a hand toward Roxi’s chest. She braced herself for the inevitable tweak of the nipple. Every man went for her nipples first. She guessed it had something to do with the little buds being tight in the cold gallery, but it could have just been due to some hardwired male impulse to play with them.
When the sharp, open-palmed smack landed on the side of Roxi’s breast, she didn’t even try to stifle the scream that fled from her lips.
“You order me to do things?” Kastor slapped her a second time, hard enough to bring a sheen of tears to her eyes. “You are delusional of your place in this world, whore.”
Roxi cried out, louder this time, when he hit her again. Maybe her wails would alert someone walking by. “Pplease, I—”
“Gag her,” Kastor commanded.
To Roxi’s horror, one of the goons stepped forward to do as he was told. He grabbed the blindfold from Brad’s unmoving hand then walked over to Roxi. He pried her jaw open, slid the strip of silk between her lips and tied the makeshift gag behind her head.
“I won’t be humiliated.” He reverted to speaking Greek, which didn’t hold a trace of foreign accent. His rage was even clearer in his native tongue. “My mother wants me to marry you. Marry. You.” He repeated the words, stressing each one. “She has no idea you’re a dirty slut. But I know, and I won’t be played for a fool.”