Voracious Vixens, 13 Novels of Sexy Horror and Hot Paranormal Romance

by Travis Luedke

  “Now who’s fooling themselves, Gareth?” She sashayed back towards him, letting him have the full impact of what he’d lost out on. His hungry eyes picked up her every movement and she smiled a soft, secret smile. “You probably wouldn’t know what to do with me.”

  With a ferocious growl he trapped her in his arms, lowering his head an inch at a time. “Wouldn’t I?” he gazed at her lips. “Let’s find out.”

  She was breathless. He was going to kiss her again. And again she found she couldn’t stop him. Rather she’d die if he didn’t do it soon. “Gareth,” she whispered. The lightest of touches upon her expectant lips. He breathed in her scent, running a tongue across her lower lip. She groaned. He laughed quietly. Savagely he claimed her mouth, thrusting his tongue into her, and like a dueling match she met him stroke for stroke.

  The sweetest aroma drifted around them, like spice and wood, loam and earth, intimate pleasures and dark needs. She panted into his mouth. “Gareth,” she whispered again, her swollen lips moving against his.

  He flung her away with such force that she tripped, landing on her butt in the middle of a thicket. He roared with laughter. “Fooling themselves?” he asked her. “Not I.” He pulled her to her unsteady feet, her mouth still tingling and her cheeks aflame. “Now come on, before someone realizes that we’re both missing.”

  “Ass,” she whispered, taking off at full speed. He had no chance to catch her as she ran flat out not caring if she tripped and broke another bone. Falling into another trap would be a mercy in her position.

  ~~~~

  Mikhail had a nasty headache, as Gareth had guessed he would, but he never knew she skipped out. When she returned, sweaty and out of breath, hoping like hell she didn’t come across anyone – especially Gareth – on her run home, she made straight for the shower, and was lounging around in her purple jogging pants and a similar tee when he awoke. “Have I been asleep long?” he asked, mortified.

  “Oh about two hours,” she replied, standing over the stove with a bubbling pot of soup cooking. “You want some soup? You need to look after yourself more,” she berated. “Good job I was in no mood for a run today, huh?”

  He smiled tightly and took the offered soup bowl, brimming with thick vegetable and beef soup. “Guess I’m not feeling very well today,” he reiterated. “I’ve a headache would kill a bear.” He frowned at her. “Weren’t you wearing pink earlier?”

  “Pink? Nope. I put this on after my meeting with the Alpha.” She crossed her fingers that he would believe her. “You should head on home as soon as my Den Parents get here. Have a rest. Maybe you’ll feel better by tomorrow.” She hoped he would. She’d never forgive herself if she’d caused him any lasting damage. Her free time wasn’t worth it.

  “You sure you didn’t leave?” he asked her, sniffing the air like a common lap dog.

  “Yes...why?”

  “Could have sworn...the scent...it’s...never mind, just me not feeling very well.”

  Oh God, was she doomed to forever smell like Gareth every time he touched off her? That was going to be hard to explain to her future mate, she guessed. Her stomach clenched at the thought of being anyone’s mate, and she forced the mouthful of soup down her neck. Silence ensued. Two days, she mused. What could she do in two days that she couldn’t do in a lifetime? Not very much.

  ~~~~

  “Again!” snapped Patina, ever-ready with her switch. She swatted Beth’s backside lightly and told her to stop swinging her hips and just damn well roll them already.

  “Sorry, Patina, I’m trying. Honestly. It’s been a while,” she panted. Whew, she’d forgotten how much of an old slave driver Patina was. For all her tiny stature and little-old-lady white hair, she was still a force to be reckoned with when in possession of her switch.

  “It should be in your blood after all this time, child!” her thin, wrinkled lips worked fast, her words tumbling as if she’d already had this answer lined up.

  “It used to be,” Beth grumbled. The flows of her wolf dance were coming slowly to her and she had to wonder if they would come at all.

  “You train for this night for your entire young life, child. You should have it mastered long ago.” Patina sighed, a tortured sound of patience stretched thin. Beth didn’t blame her – they’d been out here since dusk, and two hours later they hadn’t even started on the drums yet.

  “Begin again.”

  Beth took a loose stance, hands linked above her head, hip cocked to the right, her foot slightly facing outward. Patina bid her begin once more, and she slowly undulated her stomach, rippling her belly hypnotically, while her hands un-linked and floated down ward in graceful arcs. It was supposed to firstly draw attention to the womb, that she could bear strong sons and fertile daughters, then to her arms, that she could gather her family together and protect them.

  Beth sighed as she once again fell over her own feet on the hip roll/foot shuffle move that was supposed to draw the attention to her loins, that she could satisfy a mate sufficiently. “Tsk,” Patina scolded. “Graceless thing! Have you no passion hiding under those clothes?” she winked. “Let us find out. Strip!”

  “But, Patina...” She found she could not argue with this woman. It was pointless. She would listen patiently and make the same demand of her again. Beth stripped, folding her clothes and leaving them on the branch of a tree, so that at least one set of clothes she wore today would stay clean.

  “Again!”

  So Beth began again, finding it a little easier to move once the distracting material had been removed from her body. She would dance this naked in any case. No point in drawing attention to loins that were hidden by clothes, after all.

  Even though she found it easier to move, the grace – or passion, as Patina called it – did not stir in her body and she found herself fast losing rhythm and tripping over herself again. “Tsk, tsk,” Patina uttered again. “I fear you are hopeless, graceless and passionless, child.”

  Somewhere in the near distance she could hear a bark of male laughter. Several of them. But one in particular. He was out there, laughing, having fun, while she was here trying to perfect the very dance that would send her into the arms of another man. If she was passionless, he was heartless.

  “Yes, child, yes...keep going!”

  Beth hadn’t even noticed the drums begin to beat, nor the rhythm taking over her body. She’d just moved as she was supposed to, lost in thoughts of the heartless wolf who’d thrust her away so cruelly that morning.

  “Perhaps there is passion in you yet,” Patina laughed, winking at her when the dance was completed. “But it is not for your impending ceremony.” The old she-wolf packed up her little drums and parked her switch by a tree, while Beth pulled her clothes from the branch and got dressed.

  Patina was right; Beth had no passion for her upcoming ceremony. It was all such crap, anyway. There was no guarantee that the male her wolf picked would be her mate, in any case. If he couldn't afford her mating price, he couldn’t take her to mate. The ceremony was more for show than anything else; it introduced her to the pack as a woman of mating age, and let the males know she was available. The male she chose at her ceremony would only have bragging rights, at the very least. Beth shrugged, when Patina gazed at her in speculation.

  “Sometimes, girl,” the old woman threw over her shoulder as she strolled from the clearing. “Life is not fair. We must give up that which we would have, for that which we must do for the greater good. Know that the Great Mother is ever loving and wise, and she will not see you without that which you need.”

  The Great Mother, the Eternal She-wolf, the Spirit of the Wood. Nobody spoke of her much these days. In the shadow of law and tradition, she lay forgotten by most, Beth included. But the older generation still remembered her, and evoked her name on occasion. “The Great Mother’s eye is blind to me, Patina,” Beth whispered to the retreating form.

  “I would not be so sure, little one. She sees all, you know. Even foolish young juve
niles who should know better.”

  Now, why do I get the feeling she knows much more than she lets on? Beth wondered.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Two days, she reflected, go by so quickly when you’re dreading the end of it. She had arisen from her bed sluggish and downcast, to the joyful face of her Den Mother and the equally downcast expression of her Den Father. Something was afoot. She didn’t care. All she knew was, whatever put a smile on Bea’s face would no doubt build a scream in her throat. So she didn’t ask. She didn’t want to know. Let it all happen around her.

  She’d had her breakfast and her lunch, and before she knew it she’d spent the whole day moping and reflecting and wishing things were different, and now it was time to get ready. Bea was in her element. It was the Den Mother’s responsibility to present her to the ceremony, a vision to heat any man’s blood, mated or no. It was said if a mating ceremony didn’t heat the blood and stiffen at least one mated male, she would have no luck with the un-mated ones.

  An excuse for an orgy, if you ask me, she thought bitterly.

  Suffering the vigorous ministrations of her Den Mother, as she scrubbed and brushed and sorted the many tangles from her hair, Beth floated in bitter indifference. “Stand up. Tilt your head back. Close your eyes. Don’t bite your lip. Stay perfectly still while I...got it! Now don’t open your eyes yet.”

  On and on and on it went. The ghastly primping and pampering that any mother does for her daughter on the eve of her wedding, but this was vastly different. This was no wedding, but an auction – no matter how she wished it weren’t true – and this was no mother, but a woman relishing the thought of being free of a troublesome girl. So Bea would work miracles on Beth this evening. And Beth would look exquisite, no doubt, drawing envious glares and heated glances in equal measures, and Bea would be free of her in less than a week. Perhaps the whole pack would be free of her. Gareth too, would be free of her.

  Maybe it’s all for the best. I never really did belong here, she thought sadly. But I will miss David. And my creek. And yes, even stupid, cruel Gareth.

  “You’re ready,” Bea declared with a half hour until moon’s rise.

  No, I’m not.

  “Don’t touch off anything or you’ll ruin the whole thing!” Bea smiled broadly. “What a magnificent mate for any male lucky enough to claim,” she breathed. “If I hadn’t done the work myself, Beth, I wouldn’t believe it was you,” she laughed, shaking her shoulders with mirth. Beth thought it was the first time in a long time she’d seen Bea laugh without guile when it came to anything Beth-related. It suited her.

  ~~~~

  There was a very good reason for the wolf dance. It drew potential suitors to her. Those who desired a mate fair of form and strong of body would instinctively be drawn to her power. For power would ride the moon tonight. Patina was not only a teacher of dances, but a wielder of the oldest magics left to any wolf pack.

  She would call on the moon to draw out potential mates, whether they wanted to be drawn out or not. The moon would pull on them relentlessly, using the power of Beth’s own wolf, until their desires were out in the open. It was unfair and indiscriminate and merciless – it would not leave any potential mate untouched. There were no secrets during a mating ceremony.

  Her Den Mother walked along the path, her hand at Beth’s back, lest she decide to make a run for it. They would enter the clearing when the Alpha called for the drums to beat. Somebody else was working the drums tonight, Beth noticed. Patina would be busy working her lunar magic. Beth took a deep breath as the drum picked up a slow and steady beat to which she was supposed to make her slow procession toward the camp fire.

  Bea released the clasp of the cloak that had covered Beth’s body up until now, and the cloth whispered down her body, revealing it in all its polished glory to the eyes of all. For hours Bea had applied glistening oils, and shimmering gold flakes, and she fairly shone in the moonlight. Her Alpha smiled his benevolent smile and beckoned her forward with the crook of one finger. Beth took a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other, letting her hips lead the way, as Patina had taught her.

  She looked around the assembled crowd, but could spot neither the cruel wolf, nor her foreign suitor. One corner of her mouth lifted in the parody of a smile, as she undulated toward the heat of the flames. Would that she could throw herself atop them, but her fate had been sealed from the moment she’d decided to teach that cruel wolf a lesson. She had no one to blame but herself for her predicament.

  And so, she danced. She undulated, and rolled her hips as Patina chanted to the moon – a full moon, it seemed, even though it was not due for a week – and invoked her inner wolf. Her wolf raised its eyes to the crowd, seeking out her mate – the strongest, most fierce wolf, one that was able to protect her and her young.

  Several wolf eyes glowed back at her, visible to her even behind the human facade, some amber, and some blue, all male. Some mated, some not, all wanting. The mated ones were not to be held responsible for their actions – Patina’s magic distinguished not between one mate and another. Their own mates would understand.

  She disappeared from view behind the massive flames, rolling her hips and shuffling her feet, shimmering with oils and dusted with shavings of gold. Her long blond hair swung like a rope, bound up in ribbons and beads, tickling the small of her back as she moved. When she was at the proper angle and distance from the flames she ran for them, shimmering in mid-flight, and landing in front of the awed crowd as a dark blond wolf, eyes shining brightly with power.

  She sniffed at her potential mates, discerning the power level of each one, stopping to rub her head against a thigh here, a hand there. Patina’s chanting rose in volume, until she was hoarsely barking at the moon. And the men began to shimmer, one by one, until each of the seven potential mates stood before her, legs shaking and ears flattened from the forced change.

  A harsh cry broke through the sound of the drums, ending in a piercing howl of frustration and angry resentment. She knew that howl. In human or wolf-form, it didn’t matter – she knew that howl. And on he came, giant strides eating the land between them, until he stood before her, growling and angry.

  She liked the power in this one. He was strong. He would protect her cubs. His seed would take strong root in her belly. His jaws would lay fresh kills at her feet. His loyalty would never waver if he was hers. Yes, she liked this one.

  Dimly aware in some distant part of her mind that she was not in control of things, Beth began to panic. She had lost all control of her senses and reactions when she shimmered, the moon’s pull taking over her instincts and desires.

  She was aware of her seven suitors. One or two she recognized from her visit to the Alpha two days before. One who was already mated, and who was the recipient of one or two raised brows, and the rest were just pack wolves that she had never had much to do with.

  And then there was him.

  The shining beacon of power to their weak flashlights. She went to him. She had no choice. Just as he had no choice but to come to her. The moon did not discriminate. She offered him her throat. The power had chosen. Her wolf had chosen. She had chosen. It was done.

  He whined, agonized it seemed, and made no move to claim her. This was unheard of. When a wolf chose a mate, it was never one-sided. A touching of muzzles, a rub of his head, a playful nip – something – but Gareth made no move to come closer to Beth, humiliating her all the more.

  Aware of the uncomfortable and embarrassed mumblings from the crowd, she looked from Gareth, to her Alpha and back. An imperceptible nod of the head, and Gareth moved toward her. The Alpha nodded again. Gareth rubbed his cheek along hers, licking her head. He whined in her ear and seemed to push her in the direction of the woods, but she neither moved, nor acquiesced. He needed the Alpha’s incitement to claim me. He doesn’t want me. The realization tore through her, and she fled.

  Right into the arms of a strange Were. A Tall Grass pack wolf, she realized, as the sharp tan
g of the neighboring pack entered her nostrils. “Easy, girl,” he whispered. “Everything’s going to be fine.” He murmured half truths – she could smell them – into her ear as she shivered with suppressed anger and mortification. Her wolf recognized the power in this one, also.

  She gazed up into the face of the strange wolf, and noticed his eyes were turning a darker amber as he spoke, the musty scent of desire thickening in the still air. He was a handsome man, by all accounts. A straight patrician nose perched above a generous mouth, and a shock of black hair almost as long as hers, braided down his back. He wore no clothes, and so she had an unobstructed view of his body, muscled and powerful. The strong arms wrapped around her squirming form were thickly roped with muscle and hardly straining at all.

  This male was an Alpha in the making, she knew. Just like Gareth. And like him, he felt the pull of the moon and her wolf, drawing him from wherever he had been hiding and dragging him into the open. One moment he was holding her and murmuring pleasantries, the next he was a giant black wolf with warm golden eyes, rubbing his body against hers. She could not object. It seemed the power of the moon had changed its mind and now viewed this stranger as a serious potential mate.

  A low growl interrupted their bodily communications, and she turned her head to see her other mate, the one who had rejected her, come striding forward on legs that shook with brutal fury. His lips curled back, exposing sharp and oh, so white canines. Beth watched as his hackles rose, sending a shiver up her spine and flattening the ears of this stranger who had found her.

  What are you doing? she asked Gareth in her mind voice.

  Mine, was the only reply she received. Mine.

  You didn’t want me a moment ago, she argued. What does it matter to you if the power of this wolf interests me?

  He growled, a mixture of regret, anger and possessiveness. Oh, do as you wish, she sent. You usually do.