Marked By Fire

by Meg Ripley

  “I saw how happy people in that shed were to hear it,” Keira said. “It doesn’t seem that against your ways.”

  “They were pissed—you guys have been pissing us off for weeks. Someone could have died in that fire. We could be discovered. We had to get some other shifters on the police to get onto the investigation so that it wouldn’t lead to figuring out why certain businesses were targeted and others weren’t.” Keira frowned; she had known that the fire would intensify any investigations—would make it more official—but she hadn’t known that the wolves had done anything to slow it down.

  “So, what are you going to do with me?” Keira crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I’m taking you to a hiding place,” Raul said. “I’ll bring you food, keep you out of the line of fire, until things settle down. I’m going to try and get talks between your folks and my pack.”

  “Good luck with that,” Keira said, trying to imagine the reception that Raul would get with her clan. “You saw how much we trust wolves.”

  “I can hope that keeping you safe will win me some points,” Raul pointed out, smiling.

  “I’m going to be so fucked when they find out I’m being protected by a wolf,” Keira told Raul, shaking her head and smiling to herself in spite of the knowledge of how grave her offense would be.

  ****

  Raul looked around as he approached the flophouse he’d left Keira at the day before. Scenting the air, he filtered through the different smells: feral cats, a few squirrels, a rat or two. No sign of wolves—and no sign of panthers, either. He strode towards the front door of the tiny, ramshackle house tucked away in the woods and considered the course of action he’d taken.

  Keira’s clan-mates had, in fact, met their death the morning after he’d spirited Keira away. Raul had hated to see it—he had hated the fact that he’d had to bear witness to such a brutal, unjust execution. The mood in the pack had been divided ever since—some of the Alpha’s most fervent followers were more than a little pleased with the course of action Reginald had taken, but it was obvious that there were many, many more who were doubtful of the wisdom of the act. Cam himself was less than thrilled, and Raul knew that his second wouldn’t snitch on him.

  Keira’s escape at the hands of her clan-mates was an accepted cover in the pack. Certainly, Gary and Lachlan hadn’t disputed it; they had kept their mouths completely shut, not even saying anything in their own defense as Reginald read out the charges against them. Raul felt cold in the pit of his stomach at the memory of the two men, led out in their copper chains. He knew he would have to tell Keira as soon as he went into the safe house to bring her food; and he knew—from his own bonds with the members of his pack—what kind of grief she would feel.

  He had, in fact, brought a bottle of whiskey with him, along with some food to last for a day, just for the purposes of drinking to her fallen family members. Raul took a deep breath, summoning the moral courage to face the pain he was about to give a total stranger, and turned the knob on the front door.

  Keira sat in the gloom, half-sprawled on the couch, watching him as he entered. “They died,” she said dully. Raul closed the door behind him and nodded.

  “I brought food and booze,” he said, crossing the room to the dilapidated old chair next to the couch. “I hope you like whiskey.”

  “I like anything that will get me good and drunk right now,” Keira replied.

  “There should be some glasses in the kitchen,” Raul said. “I’ll put the food in there, too.” He looked away from the were-panther, feeling uncomfortable. I should have known that she would have already felt the loss of her clan-mates, Raul thought, stepping into the tiny kitchen in the safe house and opening the fridge. He shoved the bag of food into the fridge and turned to the cabinets, opening one and reaching for two glasses.

  He brought the bottle and glasses back into the living room and sat down in the chair once more. “I knew they were going to die,” Keira said quietly. “I mean—intellectually I knew it. But when I felt that wrench…” she sighed. “And when you walked in I could see it all over your face.”

  “If I could have stopped it, I would have,” Raul told her. He cracked the seal on the whiskey bottle and poured them each a healthy shot. “Even if you are a glorified housecat.” He extended one of the glasses towards Keira and she snatched it from him, barely waiting for Raul to settle the other glass in his hand before she knocked back the contents. Raul smiled with more than a little bit of respect for the neat way the woman drank down the burning alcohol.

  “So, what are we going to do now?” Keira put her glass down on the coffee table and Raul refilled it, doubling the shot.

  “Now we’re going to drink, and in a day or two, I’ll start putting out feelers for a contact in your clan.” Raul finished his shot and exhaled sharply. Keira waited for him to pour his second shot and then as one they knocked back their liquor.

  “I’m going to miss those assholes,” Keira said, setting her glass down and sighing. “I mean, Lachlan was one of those guys, you know—totally had to be kept in his place, unpredictable, thought he was so much better than everyone else—but he was family.”

  “I know what you mean,” Raul said, smiling a little sadly. “This feud thing has to end.” Keira hesitated a moment and then nodded slowly.

  They drank a few more shots and then Raul went into the kitchen, retrieving some of the food he’d brought for Keira. She wasn’t drunk, but she was definitely more than a little tipsy. “God,” she said, tilting her head back against the arm of the couch. “I almost can’t believe that Lachlan is dead.”

  “You were close?” Keira snorted.

  “He wanted to mate me,” she said, shaking her head. “No chance of that.”

  “Do you want to mate at all?” Raul raised an eyebrow.

  “I won’t mate with anyone who can’t take me in a challenge,” Keira informed him. “And so far, no one in my clan can take me.” Raul chuckled.

  “I almost took you,” he pointed out. Keira looked at him sharply for a moment and then slowly smiled.

  “Almost,” she said.

  ****

  Keira licked her lips, watching Raul intently. She wasn’t sure if it was the grief she felt at the loss of her clan-mates, the alcohol warming her body from the inside out, or some kind of fellow-feeling or gratitude that she felt towards Raul, but he had become more and more interesting, more and more intriguing and desirable, ever since he’d walked into the house he’d left her in a day before. All she knew was that in that moment, she wanted him. “Do you have a mate?” Keira felt her cheeks warming as she asked the question.

  “Not yet,” Raul said, shrugging. He looked at her for a long moment intently. “How drunk are you?”

  “Not drunk enough,” Keira replied. She smiled slowly. “If you’re single, and I’m single…” Raul’s eyes narrowed.

  “This is a really, really fucking stupid idea,” he told her.

  “What? The panther that nearly kicked your ass isn’t good enough for you?” Keira raised an eyebrow. “What do you look for in a mate?”

  “Someone who won’t kill me in my sleep,” Raul said, his voice wry.

  “So, don’t go to sleep next to me then,” Keira suggested. Raul pressed his lips together.

  “Do you really want this, or are you just drunk and grieving?”

  “The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” Keira pointed out. “But I really want it. I don’t know why, but I just…want to be out of my head for a while.” Raul hesitated a moment longer, and Keira gathered up the weak strength that she had after her injuries and the exposure to copper. She launched herself towards him, twisting in the air so that she could straddle his hips when she landed, pulling from supernatural reserves of power she barely knew she possessed. Keira kissed Raul tentatively at first; she had had sex before, but not very often, and never with a wolf. But as Raul began to respond, his arms coiling around her waist, pulling her body against his, Keira deepened t
he kiss, battling him for dominance.

  The chair overbalanced and they tumbled onto the floor together, any qualms about their separate clans evaporating in the heat that rose between Keira and Raul. Keira nipped sharply at Raul’s bottom lip, and dropped down to his neck, nibbling along the column of his throat as she pawed at his clothes, desperate to get them off. Raul tugged at her ripped, dirty clothing, somehow managing to work it off of her more quickly.

  Keira moaned out, the sound ending on a purr, as Raul buried his face against her breasts, nuzzling and kissing, licking and sucking, worshipping her with his mouth. She felt herself getting hotter and hotter, wetter and wetter by the moment, more and more turned on the more contact she felt with Raul’s body. Heady, musk-laden pheromones filled her nose—the mingled scents of her own and Raul’s arousal forming a honey-sweet smell that Keira had never experienced with the few other men she’d allowed to have sex with her.

  She nearly ripped Raul’s shirt getting it off of him, and bit by bit, both of their clothes fell away, thrown across the room or left to fall to the floor. Raul reached down between her legs and Keira growled, nuzzling against his throat as his fingers rubbed between the slick folds of her labia, finding her clit by touch. Keira’s hands wandered all over Raul’s hard, muscled body, taking in the heat of him, the feeling of his crisp hair under her palm, his hot skin like velvet, his muscles rippling. Even a week before, Keira would never have thought that she could find herself getting naked with a wolf.

  Raul alternated between her breasts and her face, kissing and nibbling and nipping and licking, letting out growling moans from somewhere deep in his throat in answer to hers. Keira reminded herself not to let him mount her—she didn’t want to get attached; she wanted to relieve the tension that had wound up inside of her so tightly. Her hips moved instinctively, falling into the rhythm that Raul’s touches created, and Keira brought her lips down onto his again and again as her desire became more and more intense. She reached down and wrapped her fingers around the thick, hard length of Raul’s cock, stroking him slowly in counterpoint to his touches.

  They teased each other relentlessly, each one trying for dominance, until they were both panting and gasping for breath. “You’re not going to let me take you like a wolf, are you?” Keira chuckled, low and throaty, and shook her head.

  “We could do it like normal humans,” she suggested playfully. Raul’s fingers slipped away from her soaking wet folds and he cupped her full, heavy breasts, teasing her nipples slowly.

  “I like you on top okay,” he said after a moment’s thought. “The view is great from here.” Keira laughed and straddled Raul’s hips, rocking against him. She moaned as she felt the heat and hardness of his cock rubbing against her, purring at the sweet sensation of the friction between them.

  Raul reached down and guided himself up against her, and Keira twisted her hips, sinking down onto him, taking him inch by inch, deeper and deeper inside of her. He was thicker, longer than any of the few men she had been with before. That fact alone was enough to amaze Keira; she had always harbored the suspicion that the werewolves’ toughness had something to do with their lack of sexual prowess. Raul’s hands closed on her hips and he gripped her tightly as she began to move, rising and falling on top of him.

  They moved together slowly at first, feeling each other out, finding their rhythm, but Keira knew that she couldn’t possibly last long. Raul felt good—surprisingly good, too good—and she was already on the edge even before she had taken him inside of her. She explored his body with her lips and tongue and hands, touching and tasting him everywhere, lapping up the sweat that gathered along his sharply defined collarbones, just under his jaw. He even tasted good, and in the back of her mind, Keira was amazed at the fact that she was so close to climax so soon—and with a wolf.

  Raul began to thrust up into her faster and harder, and Keira cried out in pleasure, twisting her hips, writhing on top of him as she struggled to hold back and savor her illicit tryst. When Raul reached down between their bodies, his fingertips finding her clit and beginning to rub the bead of nerves, she bit at his shoulder, moaning against his skin. Keira tasted blood and forced herself to back off, trying to avoid swallowing it—she was already too connected to him, already too attracted. Blooding him, marking him, would only make things worse.

  But in a matter of moments, Keira began to move faster and faster, the last of her self-control evaporating as the tension mounted deep down between her hips. All at once the knot unraveled and wave after wave of pleasure washed through her, obliterating all thoughts of her clan-mates, of the fact of Raul’s status as a werewolf, the rivalry between their different kinds. She moaned out, growling, and her pleasure intensified until she was almost overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through her. Keira was barely aware of the sensation of Raul’s cock twitching inside of her, barely aware of the growling, almost howling moan of pleasure that erupted from him as he reached his own climax, buried deep inside of her.

  She collapsed against him as the spasms of pleasure began to abate, and Keira slipped into a satisfied, contented doze, her breaths leveling off as she felt the steady thrumming beat of Raul’s heart in his chest, pressed against hers. Later, she thought absently, would be the time to think about the enormity of what she had just done. Later would be more than enough time for that. For the moment, she was content to be content.

  ****

  Keira stared up at the ceiling, letting her vision lose its focus, reaching out with her mind for the members of her clan. She knew so far that she was a bit out of range to be able to communicate with any of the group directly; she wouldn’t be able to send any kind of clear message. But she hoped at least that the members of her clan could feel her presence, that they knew she was still alive.

  It had been three days since Raul had spirited her away from the shed where the wolves had imprisoned her, Lachlan, and Gary. Raul had visited again the night before, but he hadn’t had any news for her. All he had said was that he was trying to figure out what was going on in his own Pack, and trying to figure out how to get in touch with the panthers at the same time without attracting any suspicions from his Alpha. He didn’t even have a clear idea of how long Keira would need to remain in hiding—though he had told her the night before that she would have to remain in hiding and incommunicado for at least another few days. “You’re healing up fine, but I don’t want you back with the panthers until I’m able to get in touch with somebody who can help me talk to your leadership.”

  “I could do that,” Keira had pointed out. Raul had dismissed the idea.

  “If you go back to them, and they know that you were with Lachlan and Gary, but you got spared…they’d just take you into their protection and come after the Pack.” Raul had paused. “While I have issues with Reginald, I can’t let it come to war between our groups.” Keira could—almost unwillingly—understand what Raul meant. She wasn’t sure she entirely agreed with Harold’s course of action in attempting to bait the wolves; she had gone along with it, but if it had escalated, she would have been against it.

  The fact that she had had sex with a wolf—and enjoyed it—was another issue that weighed on Keira’s mind. She snorted, shaking her head as she stared off into space, remembering just how good the sex with Raul had been. If I told anyone in the clan about it, they’d disown me in a heartbeat. She knew that she smelled of Raul; that was even more reason for her not to go back to her own people just yet. Never should have blooded him.

  Keira gave herself a shake, abandoning even the possibility of trying to contact her clan; they would just have to hold onto the thread of her consciousness that they could sense, know that she was okay, and rely on that. She slid off of the couch and padded into the kitchen where the food that Raul had left for her was. For a captor—and a wolf at that—she had to admit that Raul was a fairly decent person. He had focused on the kinds of foods that would best bolster her speedy recovery from injury and the copper chains that his pa
ck mates had bound her in: lean meat, fish, and vegetables. He had also made sure that there was plenty to drink; not just water that she could get from the tap, but beer and one or two cans of soda. As a joke, the last time he had come to check on her, he had brought a bottle of cream with him, teasing her with it.

  Keira had just served herself a large plate of chicken and mixed vegetable salad when she heard a noise outside of the safe house. Her senses went into high alert; her ears perked, the hairs on the back of her neck rose, her vision became subtly sharper, and as she sniffed the air, she sorted through the scents she could identify inside of the house; her own pheromones, Raul’s heavier musk, the older smells of wolves who had been inside the building before. She breathed in deep, wishing that she’d had the presence of mind to crack one or two of the windows so that she could keep a constant check on scent-marks around the house.

  A metallic, clattering clink hit her ears and some of Keira’s tension began to ebb away. While that sound on its own didn’t mean that it was Raul, it was familiar—and she didn’t think that Raul would take her to a safe house that other wolves had keys to enter. Not to mention that if they were coming here to get me, it’s not like they would use the keys to get in. A moment later, Keira’s preternaturally acute ears heard the sound of the tumblers in the lock turning over, the knob turning. Smiling to herself, she took a plate out of the cabinet and opened the fridge, finding the pile of bones she had salvaged from her lunch for the purpose of Raul’s next visit. She sniffed the air as she closed the fridge; she heard the door open and close, and the scent that greeted her was unquestionably Raul—Raul and no one else, Keira confirmed after a moment of suspicion. “Keira? Where are you?”

  “In the kitchen,” she called out, picking up the two plates. She stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room; the sight of Raul nearly made her drop both plates. The werewolf’s face, neck, and chest were dotted and splashed with blood, his hair matted with it. He smiled ruefully, setting down bags on the coffee table.