Dire Wants

by Stephanie Tyler

  She’d accepted her future as a witch, but Stray loved her enough to release her from that. And if that wasn’t possible, he would love and protect her and her powers until the end of time, approved mating or not.

  He ran until he reached the crest of a hill and his senses rang out that something was very wrong. He waited impatiently, as his instincts and the wolf told him to, until he saw a man get to the top of the hill and begin to walk through the woods.

  It was Shimmin, and he had Kate, was dragging her along with him.

  Why hadn’t she called to him? He started moving stealthily toward Shimmin, noted that Kate struggled to throw the cop weretrapper, but it appeared that he’d drugged her, because her legs began to drag behind her and her arms flailed less.

  He took off on a dead run, heard the howls of the other wolves behind him, all of them well aware that this could be a trap, that Seb could very well be hiding in the woods.

  No matter what, he would not let Shimmin have her.

  “Dires took my brother, so I’m taking one of yours. I didn’t think you’d mind losing a witch, considering your kind doesn’t have the best of luck with them.” Shimmin laughed, a cruel sound that made Brother Wolf bolt for him before Stray could stop him.

  Stray finally pulled the reins and forced himself to shift back. Blinked and hoped none of this was real, but it was. Her worst nightmare, and he knew she was far more worried about Stray than she was about herself.

  “It’s me or you,” Shimmin told him. “And I know you’re not going to kill me. I still bear the poison to immobilize you for the rest of your natural-born life.”

  “Don’t do it, Stray,” Kate pleaded. She could speak, but her body appeared paralyzed by whatever Leo had given her.

  But Stray had to. He went for Shimmin’s throat, ripped it out before anyone or anything could stop him, not caring about the poison, not caring about anything but saving Kate.

  It had been the only way to ensure her safety.

  Chapter 54

  Shimmin had thrown Kate to the side when Stray lunged for him. Now she crawled over to Stray’s body, the drugs Shimmin had injected her with making it impossible for her to walk.

  This time there was no blood, save for Shimmin’s, but Stray remained unconscious for far too long.

  She wasn’t aware that she’d been screaming for help until she saw Vice running toward her, followed by Gwen. Vice was holding her and Gwen was checking Stray.

  “I just went to find Stray—to tell the Elders I was ready to pledge my loyalty to them, the way Gwen had,” Kate explained. “Shimmin was watching Stray—I literally stumbled on to him.”

  “I don’t know how the hell he got on the property without us knowing,” Vice muttered, and then he started to clutch at his chest and breathe hard.

  “Our guard was down,” Killian said from behind them, his breath also coming too fast to be normal. “What the hell is happening? Why isn’t Stray moving yet?”

  His voice sounded rough, and Kate noted that Vice was looking very pale as well. “What’s happening to all of them?”

  “When one of them dies, they all do,” Gwen told her.

  “I thought they couldn’t die?”

  “Technically, they can’t. And Stray should be waking up soon.”

  “But … Shimmin’s blood … pure poison … to us,” Vice told Gwen in a halting voice. “It … immobilizes us.”

  “For how long?” Gwen demanded.

  “Forever … we were told. We’ve never … put it … to … the test,” Vice managed.

  Kate willed herself to pull it together. Went deep inside herself and pulled up a healing chant, even as Gwen dropped her medical bags and placed her hands to hover over Stray’s chest. She closed her eyes in concentration as Kate watched and chanted, and she didn’t know which one of them had the power, if both or neither, but she believed. And Stray had told her that was all she needed.

  Stray, I believe. Finally. Please come back to me.

  For a long while, there was nothing. Sweat beaded on Gwen’s brow and she began to shake. Rifter, who’d dragged himself up behind her tried to pull her away, but thankfully Gwen had more strength than he did, was able to shake it off. “Rifter, please—I have to do this. I’m the only one of you not affected. Let me.”

  And he listened, which she knew didn’t happen often. It probably had something to do with the fact that he was also feeling the effects of the poison. In fact, all the Dires were on their knees, with only Liam and the twins to guard them. And guard them they did.

  Finally something good began to happen. Stray’s breathing quickened and he began to cough, hard, curl up like he was in pain. Like Gwen was pulling the poison from his body.

  “Now, Kate,” Gwen told her. “Trap the poison.”

  Like it had happened earlier, her mind knew the spell before she could doubt herself—her hands curled and she spoke in ancient words, pictured the black pain rising and catching inside her binding spell, far away from where it could harm Stray or anyone.

  Gwen stopped a few minutes later, leaned back against Rifter and brushed some hair from her face, which was flushed. Her eyes were clear and bright, slightly lupine, as though she could shift at any moment.

  “You did it—you saved him,” Kate told her.

  “Finally. I was beginning to feel useless,” Gwen said as Stray began to stir between them.

  Rifter placed his hands on her shoulders, told her more fiercely than Kate would’ve thought necessary, “Never. You are never useless, mate.”

  “Right. Forgot the alpha thing,” Gwen murmured, but she seemed anything but displeased. As Rifter carried her away, she called back, “Stray’s fine now, Kate. He should wake up fully in a few minutes.”

  *

  It took about ten minutes for Stray to be up and functioning. He ignored Kate telling him to take it easy; instead, he picked her up and carried her inside the house, up the stairs and into his bedroom.

  Vice followed them, threw some heavy silver chains on the floor, where they landed with a loud thump. And then he closed the door behind him when he left.

  Stray kept her tight in his arms, kissed her fiercely. It would be so easy to sink into the bed with him and let him take her.

  But something tugged at her, something she couldn’t deny, and she pulled away.

  “What? Did I hurt you?” he demanded, his eyes going to the bruises around her neck.

  “No, you didn’t. I was just thinking about the mating.”

  “Second thoughts?”

  “No. I still want to be your mate, even if it’s not officially recognized beyond anyone but us and your family. But … we could still go through the motions,” she suggested and then blushed when his head whipped toward her. “I mean, I won’t turn into a wolf, but I could still, um …”

  She looked pointedly at the chains. “If you’re into that sort of thing.”

  “For you, I could be into anything.”

  He was serious—so serious. She’d never wanted anything more. Her heart raced, because this was within her grasp. Because their love didn’t involve magic of the manipulated kind in the least. “So those are the mating chains?”

  He went over and picked up a large metal collar from the floor. “You put this on me. Chain me up. And I’m supposed to endure the mating pain as a sign of my love.”

  “I don’t want to cause you any more pain.”

  “This pain, I’ll gladly deal with.”

  “We’ve had sex more than twice—the pain must’ve been excruciating.”

  “Worth it. And now I get to use this mating tradition. I’ve known I’m fated for you.”

  “Even though I can’t shift into a wolf? Because that obviously won’t happen after we, ah …”

  “Yes, even though.”

  “So this is just for show?”

  “It’s more than that. It’s an honoring of my warrior ways. I never got to be a part of them growing up, but now I am. This would be my crowning
glory.”

  “Then I want to be a part of that.”

  “You already are.” He climbed onto his bed and grabbed the headboard. “Wrists, then ankles. Then collar.”

  She locked him in place, felt herself grow more aroused than she thought possible as he lay bound under her, his cock jutting thick and heavy, his eyes lupine as he watched her. She expected to hear him howl soon. Wanted him to.

  “Now this.” She opened the last piece of the mating chain carefully—placed the collar around his neck and locked it slowly. It didn’t need to be opened with a key, but rather a hand, and Stray didn’t have a free one at the moment.

  “Now you get naked. And you put me inside of you. And you fuck me,” he told her, licked his bottom lip as his voice grew deeper, darker. She noted his canines had elongated and she felt nothing but want. Her sex was wet for him already, and she slid out of her clothes and mounted him, hovering above his shaft before slowly bringing herself down on it.

  Later, there would be a time for drawn-out exploration, for stroking and kissing and worshipping. This was for hard and fast, for mating. For joining as one, and she waited until he was fully inside of her before beginning to move. Back and forth, she rocked against him, her hands on his chest, watching his face bathed in pain and pleasure fighting for dominance. She didn’t worry about it—this was part of the ceremony.

  It was what Stray wanted. He writhed under her, bucked, moaned. She felt him grow bigger inside of her, realized she couldn’t pull away from him now because of that, even if she wanted to.

  It had happened before, but not like this. Never like this.

  “Stray, more,” she heard herself moan as her sex contracted around him. The way he throbbed inside of her brought on multiple orgasms and she couldn’t have controlled herself if she tried. She raked his chest with her nails, bent down and bit him on his shoulder, hard enough to draw blood, didn’t stop when he cried out.

  She’d become wild. Feral. A beast, just like him. And she liked it.

  *

  Stray had never mated before, but he couldn’t imagine it being more perfect. When she bit him, the pain throughout his body had been as intense as anything he’d felt before, and then his orgasm had staggered out of him, a jagged, sharp burst that finally took away any of the previous pain and gave him only a shiver of pleasure as intense as any he’d ever felt.

  Kate collapsed on him when he was finally sated. It was hours later—too long for a human to deal with, but not an immortal witch, no matter how inexperienced. She’d gotten nothing but pleasure from the experience, because he’d watched her.

  She’d looked happy. She loved him—told him so several times.

  He stroked a hand along her shoulder and she reached up and undid the collar around his neck. Stared at him. “Did it work?”

  “It worked for me.”

  She laughed a little, sat up and undid his wrists. Stayed straddling him while she reached back to undo his ankle bindings, and he saw it on her shoulder.

  He waited until he was free and then he got off the bed, holding her against him, turned her back to the mirror in the bathroom. “Look over your shoulder.”

  She did and her eyes widened. “That’s … a wolf tattoo.”

  “It’s a glyph, like mine. It comes out right before our first shift,” he told her.

  “It looks just like your Brother Wolf.”

  “It is.”

  It began on her left shoulder and went halfway down her lower back. Brother’s eyes glowed with a secret they now both knew.

  “We share your wolf,” she whispered as she stared over her shoulder. “I like it. No, I love it. You.”

  “My mate,” he told her, kissed her until he was hard again.

  She pulled back and looked over her shoulder at the wolf in the mirror again. “Should we let the others know? Don’t we have to dance under the moon?”

  “Plenty of time for that tomorrow. All the time in the world.” And for once, that wasn’t a scary thought for either of them.

  Epilogue

  Rogue opened his eyes slowly, expected to see the mare’s face, even though he no longer felt the weight of her on his chest.

  There was no one there, and he recognized the attic of the Dire house in the Catskills, where they’d been living before the capture.

  Fuck me. He sat up, ignoring his complaining muscles, and shook to wake Brother Wolf. The beast was hibernating. Shell-shocked.

  Well, get unfucking shocked, he told the wolf. Gotta deal.

  He fingered several hand-rolled cigarettes, brought one to his nose and inhaled the scent through the paper.

  If he lit it, he’d see blue smoke.

  Vice.

  He’d smelled that nightly for the past months, which meant the Dire had stayed close.

  He heard whoops and howls from the slightly opened window, moved to peer out and saw the Dires and some Weres running in the moonlight along with a witch. Kate.

  It was a mating ceremony, but with no sign of the Elders.

  Good. Those fuckers could rot.

  He’d heard everything going on around him, more since the mare left than ever, knew Jinx was still living apart from the Dires—and with a deadhead. And that Jinx had opened—and closed—purgatory. Vice was still Vice, and Stray and Kate had mated somehow. Harm had finally lived up to his legacy.

  And he’d seen more in hell than he’d ever wanted to.

  Yeah, reentry was gonna be a bitch.

  Acknowledgments

  Writing a book is never a solitary endeavor, and I’m so grateful to the following for their help and support.

  For the awesome Danielle Perez, whose insights and patience are always invaluable and appreciated. For Kara Welsh and Claire Zion, for all their unwavering support; for Erin Galloway, my wonderful publicist; and for everyone else at NAL who helps introduce my Dire wolves to the world. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t give a special shout-out to the art department for their most awesome covers!

  For my friends, writing and otherwise, and my readers—the support, encouragement and laughter you supply is more important than you’ll ever know.

  For my family, who understand why I spend so long in the writing cave and who are always waiting for me—usually with dinner—when I crawl out. Love you, Zoo, Lily, Chance and Gus.

  *

  Don’t miss the next novel in the Eternal Wolf Clan series,

  DIRE DESIRES

  Coming in July 2013 from Signet Eclipse

  *

  Two days earlier

  When she dragged in with the old blanket draped over her naked shoulders, she knew she still wore the wildness in her eyes like the chill of a winter’s night.

  She hated the daytime the most. The other patients did as well, avoided the sun, hated to be pulled into the fresh air as if they were horses to be exercised in captivity. She wanted the air and exercise, no doubt, but unfettered.

  She wanted the moon. The small pad of paper she’d stolen during her last therapy appointment would be in its hiding spot, showing the beginnings of many crude drawings of the orb.

  In her mind’s eye, it was perfect, beautiful.

  She wouldn’t talk about it in the sessions with the man with the glasses. For five years, others had tried and failed. He would fail as well, because Gillian had stopped listening, stopped knowing what she once was.

  A daughter. Once loved, until something went wrong. She began to talk about wolves, to run in the woods alone. Naked.

  That was, apparently, unacceptable. Signaled illness.

  Since she continued to escape, that meant the illness was getting worse, not better. She felt it too. But she always came back voluntarily because there was no other place for her. And still, something inside of her compelled her to look for others whenever the moon grew heavy, and lately, when it didn’t. The past two months had been a roller coaster of emotions for her. This time, she knew the wildness was too much for her—it threatened to overwhelm her, suck her in
to its madness, never, ever to let go. Maybe one day she’d allow herself to go all the way in, see that it was for the best.

  But today she returned. Last night she’d run and then she’d lain under the stars and she’d dreamed. The dreams were of another time and place—distant, beautiful—and she felt stately and wise despite the way the men looked at her when she strode in.

  They shoved her to the ground unceremoniously. Checked her for weapons.

  I am a weapon, the rustling in her ears told her. But the men who held her down didn’t know that, and she knew better than to tell them.

  After she felt the initial prick of the needle, she waited for the familiar poison to work itself through her body. Her muscles relaxed. The rustling in her ears stopped.

  But in her dreams, she ran.

  *

  Vice swore he heard something slam to the ground in the woods outside the Dire house right after four in the morning. He’d been out running the woods and had just showered and prepared a snack fit for a king, but his curious Brother Wolf wouldn’t not let him check it out. And since he was the only one either not on his honeymoon or in a coma, he went. Left the house naked and shifted the second his foot touched grass.

  The nighttime air was cool and soothing. For an hour, he ran through the brush and remnants of snow, searching for whatever it was that made the noise.

  He ended up at the tree he thought of as Eydis’s, since he was always drawn to it when that specific Elder called for him. Vice listened when called, because he was compelled to do so.

  Still, he couldn’t control what he said in front of any of them, but hey, he was immortal, so what could they really do—kill him? That would be a fucking relief.

  The tree was a massive, thousand-year-old oak that had been split straight down the middle by lightning. Like the Dires themselves, it had survived centuries, still standing healthy and straight.

  The tree blossomed during springtime, stayed green until the worst of winter. Even barren, the tree stood out. It was magnificent.