She pulled the length of the sweatshirt past her thighs, adjusting so she sat on the material instead of the cold metal bed. “Yeah,” she said, not even reassuring herself. Being shackled, confined the way they were, was humiliating and continued to piss her off every time she focused on Rafe’s ankles and the red flesh underneath them. Even if they changed, leapt free, with all the males so nearby, it was worse than poor odds for survival. “What are we doing here?”
The cool mountain air sent chills down her bare legs and lifted Rafe’s hair from his neck. She watched chills rush over his flesh, but he didn’t react to them, instead he continued to glare at the group of males who’d gathered and were discussing something.
“We’re about to find out.” Rafe’s mouth barely moved as he spoke, but he nodded toward the jaguars.
Anna looked at the males and sucked in a breath. Natasha Kalusian had gotten out of the truck with the extended cab and sauntered toward them, her self-importance filling the air and easily drifting toward Anna. She curled her lip, glaring at the female who pierced her with hard, cold eyes.
“I don’t believe this,” Natasha grunted, stopping before she reached the truck where Anna and Rafe were and turning on Devon and the other males. “You took the wrong ones!” she howled, her shrill voice echoing off the steep cliffs surrounding the highway. “Does she look like my littermate?” Natasha pointed at Anna.
The males glanced at Anna, but Devon, who was probably at least ten years older than Natasha, grunted something inaudible. Anna swore she heard the VicMoran litter mentioned.
Suddenly Rafe started laughing, and Anna spun her attention toward him, shocked. Natasha also turned and stared at him as her jaw dropped.
“At least there is some small amount of intelligence in your brain,” Rafe said loudly, his grin almost more dangerous-looking than the sneer that had been on his face. “You have enough sense to know your littermate wouldn’t come willingly if you simply invited her to visit.”
“She’s tainted by VicMoran stench!” Natasha spat at him as she started to walk closer.
Rafe changed so quickly Anna leapt to the corner of the back of the truck, as surprised as everyone else when the beast inside him, which had been close to the surface since he’d come to, now exploded to life. Anna barely blinked when Rafe took the form of a large black jaguar and pierced the cold air with an outraged scream as he leapt out of the truck. The shackles that had imprisoned him clattered against the metal bed.
Two males leapt in front of Natasha, who appeared to be Rafe’s target. Rafe took both down. He raked his long front claws over their faces, tearing flesh as he landed on top of them, but then he leapt right off them. Two more males behind them hit the ground next, one of them screaming like a pathetic cub. The sound soon turned to a blood-curdling gurgling sound as the metallic smell of blood filled the air.
Devon had jumped out of the way and was stripping out of his clothes, his teeth already too long for his human mouth. Rafe was moving faster than Anna had ever seen a jaguar move before, even her littermate. Four males were on the ground, blood staining the earth underneath them, and two weren’t moving.
Natasha was screaming obscenities as she raced to the other side of the truck. Devon was shouting loud enough that it echoed off the mountains several times before fading. And as quickly as it began, one loud shot brought Anna’s world to a shrieking stop. She leapt to the side of the truck, her spine popping as electrical currents zapped her insides, drawing forth the change.
If Natasha Kalusian shot Rafe…
“Stop right there.” The cold, heartless tone in Natasha’s voice was as disturbing as the mangled scene around them. “Take one more step, VicMoran, and I’ll shoot. But I won’t kill you—I’ll injure you and let you watch the little slut with you get raped.”
Anna’s heart damn near exploded in her chest. As insane as the last minute had been, rushing before her eyes at the speed of light, everything now slowed to a stopping point. The breeze didn’t move. There was no sound anywhere.
Natasha stood, her legs spread, her breath coming in hard pants as she gripped a gun in her hand and pointed it at Rafe’s face. “Change, VicMoran,” she hissed. “Change right now or I promise you the consequences,” she added, her voice softer although the fierce hatred in it clipped her words.
Two of the four males on the ground began crawling, struggling to stand. Devon’s shirt hung on him crooked as he adjusted his pants and appeared to be zipping his zipper back up.
Anna didn’t dare move. She was perched on the side of the truck, her legs bent and supporting her weight with her ankles still bound and the metal pinching against her ass. The hard edge of the side of the truck ground into her palms and her shins, but she wouldn’t budge an inch. Not when death stared Rafe in the face.
She stared at the gun, a human weapon, Natasha pointed at Rafe. Jaguars didn’t use human weapons. There was no point. Yet Natasha Kalusian, leader of Colony, or so it was howled, aimed with confidence, her finger wrapped around the small trigger as if it was something she did every day.
Rafe snarled at Natasha, blood clinging to his coat on his chin. He moved forward a step, and Natasha kept her gun pointed at his face.
“Do you think I’ll mourn one less VicMoran on this planet?” Natasha whispered.
Anna heard her though. “Rafe,” she pleaded, his name escaping her lips.
He turned and looked at her, his eyes fierce with anger. His white teeth were stained with blood, and she feared the blood lust burning in his veins was too strong for him to see how close to death he was.
Don’t you dare get killed. Anna was sure she thought the words, but when Natasha chuckled, she worried she’d spoken out loud.
“Rafe VicMoran, the youngest of Raul’s litter,” Natasha purred. “Weren’t you the slut of the litter?” Natasha never took her attention from him, more than likely knowing one glance away could mean her death. “Be a good kitten and do as your told,” she coaxed, her tone so sickening it was all Anna could do not to leap for the bitch herself.
The change began coursing through Rafe. Anna finally exhaled and was suddenly so lightheaded she almost teetered off the side of the truck. She held her poise though when Rafe leapt at Natasha.
The female shrieked, jumping backward, and Rafe laughed then turned, standing tall, and sauntered over to Anna, looking powerful and dangerous even as he moved naked in the cold mountain air. There wasn’t a damn thing shriveled or small about him.
* * * * *
It had been a month since Anna had been to Colony. She studied the mountains, the giant fortress surrounding them with its caves and snow-capped tops as she breathed in the crisp, clean air. As with the day she had left, that perfect mountain air was still polluted with hatred and tension that violated all the beauty surrounding them. Colony had turned sour like spoiled meat. The once perfect sanctuary where she and so many other black jaguars had been whelped and ran, hunted, fought and played was now ruined by bad blood and sick minds.
“We’re here, cubs,” Devon announced, and pulled to the side of the street and parked. He opened the driver’s side door, jumped out and looked inside the cab. The cocky grin he wore didn’t smell happy. “No funny business, cub,” he warned, wagging a thick, long finger at Rafe, who sat between two males in the backseat. “Don’t dishonor yourself in front of the neighbors.” His chuckle was clipped and he stepped away from the truck, pulling up his pants as he puffed out his chest. His self-importance stank about as bad as Natasha’s.
The male who’d sat next to Anna in the front passenger seat climbed out and offered his hand to help Anna out. She ignored him and walked into Rafe’s chest when he slid out of the backseat. Rafe growled at the males surrounding them, indifferent to the harsh smells seeping off all of them. He placed an arm around her possessively. The sweatshirt and sweatpants he’d put on smelled stale but his confident scent dominated. It didn’t waver when Natasha climbed out of the truck that had parked behind t
hem.
Anna caught a male staring out of his den window across the street. Natasha’s boots clumped against the paved road that was lined with dens on either side, and as the sound and smell of her grew closer and stronger, the male backed away from his den window, disappearing from Anna’s sight.
“Take them inside,” Natasha ordered harshly.
Rafe turned, not moving when the males around him started toward the den they’d parked in front of. “What are we doing here, Natasha?”
“Would you rather be chained to a tree?” the bitch snapped, her eyes flashing with annoyance as she looked at Rafe then turned her attention to Anna. “Who is your den, female?”
Anna didn’t know whether to be flattered or pissed. She stared into the female’s cat-shaped eyes. Natasha’s complexion was creamy-white and, shy of a scar that puckered along her jaw, there wasn’t a blemish on her face. Her long, thin, straight black hair fell behind her shoulders and down her back. The blue jeans she wore showed off her small waist and the curves of her hips. She wore a green sweater that would have complemented her eyes, except the harsh orbs were flat and cold.
In another world, Natasha would have been incredibly beautiful. Her lips were full, red and pursed into a pout. Anna was about five years younger than Natasha, so they never ran together as cubs. In fact, Anna didn’t have any memories of Natasha growing up. But David had worked with Natasha—close enough to have put his life and honor on the line for the female and had lost both.
“My littermate died because of you.” Anna hadn’t planned on that being the first thing out of her mouth and grew acutely aware of the males suddenly all looking at her, including Rafe. If a jaguar killed a littermate, the remaining littermates could challenge that jaguar, especially if they caused a dishonorable death.
Neither Natasha’s expression nor her scent changed when she tilted her head slightly and studied Anna. “Did he die without honor?” Natasha asked.
Anna wondered if Natasha truly believed any jaguar who died following her died with honor. “He was publicly dishonored by every litter in Guarida.”
Natasha gave no indication Anna’s words bothered her. She stared at Anna without saying a word for a moment. Rafe’s hand was on Anna’s back and he moved it, dragging it up her spine, as if trying to assure her of his support as she confronted the bitch.
Anna already fought to withhold her anger, being unwilling to show any emotion Natasha might use against her. But when Natasha’s expression suddenly transformed and her look of surprise accompanied by the sincere smell of sadness wrapped around her, she suddenly showed a strong resemblance to Angela, her littermate and Raul’s mate.
“You’re David Hunter’s littermate,” she gasped then moved forward without notice and pulled Anna into her arms. It was such a sudden, unexpected reaction there was no avoiding the embrace. “I am truly sorry for your loss,” she whispered into Anna’s ear.
Then taking a step backward, her unreadable mask slipped back into place and her eyes remained as cold and empty as always. “David was a strong, powerful and incredibly honorable jaguar. His death will go down in history for his efforts to gather the laws and traditions for all jaguars to see.” Natasha raised her voice slightly, taking the time to shift her attention to the males behind Anna and Rafe and finally to settle on Rafe. “See the truth now, little Hunter female, as all will soon see. It is howled about the two lines of blood from which all jaguars descend. Let it be known now that one of those lines keeps the laws and traditions, is unwilling to share them but harbors them as we howl, so they may control all those around them.” She pointed a thin finger at Rafe. “The VicMoran litter brought dishonor to your litter. They are responsible for your littermate’s death, not me. The Kalusian litter shall remain pure, our only purpose to maintain the pride and dignity of all jaguars for all to smell.”
To his credit, Rafe didn’t show off his outrage, which was probably exactly what Natasha wanted him to do. The unadulterated rage in her eyes made it clear she would love to push him far enough she could justify killing him. Not that Anna thought the bitch needed much in her own mind to kill any jaguar, her and Rafe included.
“Take them into the den.” Natasha waved her hand at the nondescript den housed at the end of the street but looking very similar to the other dens lining the road. “Then, Devon, you’ll report to me. I’m curious to sniff out the truth on how it is you brought me this rogue VicMoran instead of his older littermate and his mate, who foolishly chose to run with their bad blood.”
Anna glanced at the dens across the street when Natasha turned without another word, not that she hadn’t howled enough, and searched each one. More than one jaguar peered out a window. One door had even opened ajar, the litter inside more than likely curious to sniff out who Natasha was patronizing now. The jaguars visible at windows stepped back and the door closed when Natasha returned to her truck. Anna recognized the street as one not too far from the den she and her litter had lived on growing up in Colony.
“Enjoy your stay,” Devon said after unlocking a steel door, opening it then unlocking another door that opened into the den. He kept his hand on the door, standing to the side, and indicated the two of them should enter. “Disown the VicMoran litter and howl your allegiance to the Kalusians,” he told Anna when she walked past him.
“Go to hell,” Anna snarled at him, and followed Rafe into the dimly lit den.
She turned around in the doorway but stepped backward to avoid the door hitting her when Devon pulled it closed. He locked it from the outside. Rafe reached around her and turned the handle.
“It’s locked.”
She spun around and Rafe grabbed her, yanking her against him protectively as both of them stared at an older male who sat in one of several upright chairs in the living room. Anna hadn’t noticed until now that they weren’t alone in the den. She glanced at a female around her age leaning in the doorway that led to the kitchen. Another male, also around her age and familiar-looking, leaned forward on the couch.
“Welcome to Colony’s luxury prison,” the male on the couch announced, the sarcasm smelling as bittersweet as his tone sounded. “What horrendous crime are you in here for?”
“We haven’t committed a crime,” Rafe informed them, keeping Anna at his side as he stepped closer to the small group. “How many dens like this are there?”
The older male, who possibly was pushing sixty, an incredibly old age for a jaguar to reach, stood and took a few steps closer to them, his head tilted as he looked at Anna but then focused his watery gaze on Rafe.
“You’re one of the VicMoran males,” he said then slowly shook his head. “You are, aren’t you?”
Rafe nodded once. “You’re from the Miguelo litter,” he said, acknowledging the old male. “I remember you running with my sire.”
“He was a good and honorable male,” Miguelo said solemnly.
The female pushed away from where she stood and walked toward them. The male on the couch stood as well but simply stared. The immediate change of the smells in the air was disturbing, but not as much as the fact that suddenly all of them filled the air with the tangy smell of admiration. It was unmistakable and weird. Anna shot Rafe a furtive glance.
“You honor all of us with your presence here,” the older male said, clasping his hands behind his back in a non-confrontational stance as he lowered his head in a submissive fashion.
“Are you honored because he is a VicMoran?” Anna asked. None of the litters had sniffed around the VicMoran litter any differently than they had any other litter when she’d lived here, and that was only a month ago.
“If you aren’t, step aside,” the female said with a low purr as she strutted into the living room, shaking her hips a bit too much as she hooded her gaze with thick black lashes and gave Rafe a very hungry look.
Rafe’s arm was around her, but Anna stepped out of his possessive hold and moved in front of him, lowering her head and growling as she glared at the female.
<
br /> “You aren’t very wise to challenge me right now,” she informed the female, fisting her hands at her sides as the rage she’d known outside began burning in her veins. “But if you are, howl clearly about what it is you wish to fight for, the male or the name of his den?” She was positive she’d never heard herself sound so cold. She’d never been given the chance to take on her own fights before. Her two littermates had always been there, taking over and handling her battles for her. Howling on her own behalf felt better than she imagined. “I’m pissed as hell to be locked in a den as if it were a cage and already the rage burns raw inside me. But my head is clear enough to know this particular male is with me. I have no problem proving that to you.”
Instead of snarling, demanding a challenge or simply growling under her breath and promising trouble for Anna for stating her demands were dishonorable, the female lowered her head and dropped her hands to her side.
“Forgive me. I promise I’m not as shallow as my words smelled.”
Anna wasn’t ready to back down. “What is it you think you know about the VicMorans?” she demanded, and held her ground, shifting her attention to the two males when they looked at her curiously.
The female frowned, her scent changing to confused.
“Certainly you know of the laws and traditions,” Miguelo said, speaking before the female could. “Everyone is howling about them, and Natasha has promised all of Colony we will see them and own them as our own.”
Rafe moved around her, once again placing his arm around her waist, silently making it clear they were together. A hot sensation seared her insides.
“What does that have to do with my litter?” Rafe demanded.
“Which VicMoran are you?” the older man asked, his scent relaxed as he moved around the coffee table and approached them. “I am Perry Miguelo, the last of my litter to the best of my knowledge.” He focused on Rafe as he spoke. “I remember there were three of you as cubs. Your sire and mother died some years ago, but the three of you left Colony a few months ago at the same time Natasha took over.”
Black Surrender Page 7