by Fel Fern
“What do the lines of ink on your side mean, kitten?” Scott asked, stroking her hair back gently.
“What? You want to have a conversation now?” Ragan asked, panting, trying to shift, but Rafe remained buried inside her. Finally, she whispered, “Names, of comrades and friends who died.”
“You’ve always taken care of everyone, haven’t you?” Scott phrased it more as a statement rather than a question. “But its time you let someone else take care of you. Starting now, we’re going to always be by your side. We’re never going to lie to you, or betray you. I know we still don’t know a lot about each other, but we have all the time in the world to find out.”
Ragan stilled under Rafe, and he even from his angle his supernatural sense could smell the salt of her tears.
“It’s okay, kitten.” Scott bent down to kiss the crown of her head. “Are you ready for Rafe to move?”
She hesitantly nodded. Rafe let out a growl, and began to move. Scott resumed his task, and Rafe admired her trust in Scott, in both of them, to allow them to take control. Scott gripped her hair and began fucking her mouth, watchful of her reaction.
Fuck, it was an erotic sight. Rafe increased his rhythm, repeatedly letting his steel-hared shaft be swallowed by the pull of her delicious tight heat. He slowed down a little, to watch Scott climax and Ragan swallowing his cum without spilling a drop.
“Good girl,” Scott rasped, stroking her sweat-soaked hair.
Rafe took his time, his strokes deep and slow until Ragan began uttering the single word that nearly pushed him over the edge.
“Please. Please, Rafe.”
“Hush, kitten,” Scott murmured.
Rafe finally found the right angle. A gasp tore out of Ragan, breathy and shocked. Rafe aimed for her sweet spot again and again, knowing his cock was on the verge of exploding. He reached for her clit, timing his fingers with his thrusts. Hearing her telltale moan, he pinched her swollen nub.
“Come now, kitten.” She did. Let out a shuddering breath that triggered his own orgasm. Rafe’s head spun, and waves of pleasure assaulted his body.
Scott fished out a packet of wet wipes from his back pocket and helped clean all of them up. They took their places back on the bench, and Scott conceded to Ragan sitting on Rafe’s lap. Rafe smoothed out the creases of her dress, tugged the hem down and the top up. She nestled her head against his shoulder, sighing like a little ball of warmth. Mewled happily, too, when Rafe buried his face to the side of her neck.
Rafe would’ve happily stayed that way, with Ragan tucked against him while Scott stroked her spine, except his sharp ears caught the sound of arguing voices nearby. The three of them froze, and Rafe heard the familiar voice of Tom a second later. Rafe felt Scott and Ragan automatically suppress their spiritual beasts so the intruders wouldn’t sense other shifters were nearby.
“I told you we should’ve made our move during the reception,” an unfamiliar voice pointed out.
“There were guards everywhere. Now is the time. Lance and his bastard Vivaldi cat mate are at their most vulnerable when they’re in the honeymoon room,” Tom asserted.
“Tom,” Scott whispered.
On his lap, Ragan rubbed at her sleepy eyes. God. Rafe was loathe to part from her, especially when she smelled so good and looked so well fucked. She looked decidedly awake when she heard the conspiring voices. Rafe easily tightened his hold over her waist when she tried to escape.
“Stay still, kitten,” Rafe said in a stern voice. “Don’t be foolish.”
“Your partner shouldn’t have failed yesterday. How fucking hard is it to blow up on a close target?” Tom angrily said.
“Well, retard. Now they’re watching all the gates,” the second voice said. There was something familiar about the speaker’s voice, too, and the way Ragan tensed up. She knew who it was.
“Vivaldi?” Scott asked her.
“Luca,” she murmured. The hurt in her voice made Rafe pissed. Her men clearly didn’t deserve her loyalty.
“Scavos and Vivaldi goons working together against Lance and Ren’s union? This is fucking unexpected,” Scott muttered angrily.
“Keep your voice down,” Rafe told Scott.
“They fear change,” Ragan said softly.
“Shut up, did you hear something?” Luca asked, sounding more alert.
“Listen up, kitten. I’m going to place you down, but promise me you won’t make any rash moves,” Rafe said in a low voice.
Ragan bit her lip but nodded. Rafe lowered her. Certain she would stay, he nodded to Scott. Silent understanding passed between them. It fell to them to capture Tom and Luca but not to kill them, because they needed to question these fools.
“Ragan, I want you to run back to the party and get more men in case there’s more of them. A mix of both Scavos and Vivaldi guards is best,” Scott said.
Rafe quickly stripped, keeping an eye on Ragan’s retreating figure, before shifting. Once Scott and he finished, they crept slowly toward Tom and Luca. The two men were still arguing, unaware of their surroundings. They probably dismissed the thought of anyone following them. Then again, this particular spot in the estate gardens was seldom frequented.
Rafe raised his head, sniffing, but he didn’t smell any other shifter nearby. He ran so often shoulder to shoulder with his mate, Scott and he could communicate through signals. With two nods, they split up. Working like clockwork, they kept themselves hidden in the bushes and away from the garden path the two men walked on.
Scott lunged first, bringing Luca down. Tom whipped his head, hand going for the gun tucked in his gun belt, but Rafe took him from behind. Tom tried beating him back with the gun, but Rafe easily swiped it away with his claw. He heard hasty footsteps up ahead, and knew it wasn’t Ragan with backup. It was too soon.
Rafe barely caught the sudden blur of movement, before a fully shifted mountain lion slammed him off Tom. He growled and clawed as they rolled into a tangle. In the background he heard Scott snarling, fighting for his life. Damn. He didn’t think they had been this outnumbered, but he couldn’t let these assholes go while they gathered more men. By then, Lance and Ren might be dead.
Canines sunk deep into his throat, Rafe howled, but the bastard missed his artery. He heard Scott let out a chilling howl of challenge, probably sensing his pain. Scott tore the lion above Rafe, teeth ripping into the scruff of the lion’s back.
Rafe heard the roar of the gunshot a second later. Scott let out a raspy whine before falling next to him. Only a single shot of silver could take a powerful werewolf down. Rafe didn’t think. He went berserk, like something inside him broke and cracked. Rafe started running, aiming for the shooter, the poor fucker who shot his mate.
The gunner, a Scavos wolf he’d seen skulking around but never knew the name of, looked panicked. Too late for him to shift, so he fumbled for his shotgun and took aim. Using silver on their own kind was fucking despicable. Rafe closed his muzzle of the barrel, tossing it aside, before going for his throat. Blood splattered his mouth and coat.
A weak warning yip from Scott saved Rafe from the claws of a lion who could have blinded his eyes. Rafe collided with the tawny beast, and they rolled on the dirt, tangling. He hissed between his teeth when a new shifted Scavos wolf began to run toward them to aid the lion. A smaller and more slender beast intercepted the wolf. Rafe recognized the dusky color of her coat—Ragan.
He quickly finished off the lion, before he heard the sound. The brass rumble reverberated through the gardens, stopping the wolves in their tracks—an alpha’s call, and any wolf in their line could do nothing but obey. The large gray beast padding from the opening told him it was London. He was flanked with half a dozen wolves and lions, and more suits toting heavy machinery. The insurgents immediately stopped fighting and surrendered.
Scott, Rafe remembered. He ran to his mate, and saw Ragan had beaten him to Scott. Ragan had lain close beside Scott, her light fur a contrast to Scott’s dark coat. When she saw Rafe, the fear in her green feline e
yes staggered him because he didn’t think he’d ever seen her truly afraid. Scott let out a weak sound, before falling unconscious.
Rafe and Ragan shifted back to humans. They examined Scott, and Rafe ignored the aching wounds he’d sustained in the fight. Nothing serious yet, but he needed to tend to them soon.
“Help me turn him over, gently,” Rafe told her.
Once Scott lay on his side, he saw the bullet was buried deep in his chest, barely missing his heart by inches. Ragan let out a hiss, clearly knowing the implication.
“It may have missed his heart, but the poison in the silver will get there soon enough. I can feel his life-force through our mate bonds, and it’s becoming weaker every second.” Rafe didn’t know why he kept on talking when he knew the inevitable.
Ragan settled herself beside him, her warmth a comfort. She bared her teeth at the sound of incoming footsteps.
“Calm down, little cat. I don’t mean you or your mates any harm,” London said. He squatted beside them and Rafe let his alpha examine Scott. “There is a way to save him.”
“I can send him my life force,” Rafe started.
“You can’t do that. It will kill you, and you’re already so weakened,” Ragan protested.
Feeling numbed, Rafe ran a hand down Scott’s muzzle. “I can’t let him die.”
“What’s the other way?” Ragan demanded, looking at London.
Rafe blinked at the determination in her voice. Shamed he had already given up, Rafe waited for London’s instructions because Ragan had been right. If there was another alternative, they had to take it.
“It depends if you are ready for the sacrifice. If Rafe sends what little life energy he has to Scott, he will certainly die, but if another mate will send the energy, then this can be fixed.”
“Wait, London. You can’t mean—” Rafe shook his head. “Ragan isn’t ready. Hell, we’ve only known each other for a few days.”
He closed his mouth when Ragan placed her hand over his. “I’m ready and more importantly, I want to do this if it can save Scott’s life. What’s the use if both of you are dead?”
Rafe swallowed. He didn’t think about what would happen to Ragan. Shifters mated for life, so if either of them died, emptiness would continue to fester inside Ragan until she would decide to follow them to death. Rafe had seen it happen before, the way a wolf would eventually lose the will to live after his mate perished.
“I will guide you, and don’t worry, I’ve done this a few times,” London assured her. “Rafe, you will need to give her your mating mark.”
“This will hurt without something like sex or arousal to soften the blow,” Rafe warned, but she didn’t seem to care.
He pulled her close to him, and swept aside her tangled golden hair. Rafe pressed his face against the curve of her neck for a few seconds, breathing hard. He needed to focus, because he couldn’t afford to screw this up. The tension in him eased when Ragan began stroking his hair.
Feeling stronger, Rafe began to focus on the tiny details. The way her sweet, sweat-soaked flesh pressed against his, her nipples brushing against his chest, and the unforgettable scent of her—soap, sweat, some flowery perfume, and feline musk.
He took a more comfortable position, and pulled her to his lap. “Hands around my neck, kitten.”
She obeyed, offering her neck to him. His hand wandered down her tits, ribs, abs, and finally between her legs. She was slightly wet for him already. Rafe smiled at that, and began to stroke her there just as he unsheathed his canines. Keeping his circling thumb over her clit, he began to finger fuck her heat. Then he lowered his canines and pierced her skin. She cried out against him, fingers digging into flesh, the sound making him incredibly hard. Focus.
“Good. Now, Rafe, find the thread connecting you to Scott through your metaphysical mate bonds and add a third bond to it,” London said, voice smooth and soothing. Behind him, Rafe saw one of the pack healers waiting with a medical kit, ready to work on Scott.
Rafe saw his spiritual wolf linked to Scott, then Ragan’s cat to the side, watching them intently. He added her life force to theirs, and saw the bonds between them pulse and immediately strengthen.
“Ragan, reach out to Scott. Good, now start channeling energy,” London commanded.
Rafe could sense Ragan sending out her energy into Scott. He let out a surprised breath when it began to work. She breathed life back into Scott’s dying body. Scott’s limbs twitched, and his amber eyes opened. Seeing them, he let out a snarl of surprise. The shifter doctor pushed her way through, beginning to tend to Scott while Rafe and Ragan hovered protectively beside him. Ragan, Rafe noticed, didn’t even flinch when the doctor took out the bullet. Perfect.
“We need to tend to your bleeding neck soon, kitten,” Rafe reminded her. She shot him an annoyed glance, but didn’t argue. “Thank you.”
She looked surprised. “For what?”
“For saving Scott, but then again, we had been planning on slapping a collar on you soon.”
Her scowl widened, and Rafe laughed, bringing her to him for a kiss.
Chapter Ten
“Give me one good reason why I won’t kill you, little sister,” Red Vivaldi hissed.
They met in one of the city’s neutral grounds, a tiny café off the beaten track. The neighborhood chose to remain indoors though, when they spotted the Vivaldi and Scavos cars and goons.
Ragan could practically feel the waves of anger coming off from Red’s expensive designer suit and powerful body. Ragan always felt like a breakable and tiny thing compared to her brother. All her life she’d known Red would take their father’s place, and all she’d be was one of his shadows.
With Rafe and Scott sitting on either side of her, she didn’t feel intimidated, just exhausted. Scott reached out and began rubbing at her arm, calming her nerves. Sitting beside Red, River bristled at the gesture.
She took a spoonful of her cheesecake, ignored the fact her brothers hadn’t taken a single bite of theirs, and washed it down with some green tea. “Because with Lance and Ren sealing the knot, the peace accords between House Vivaldi and House Scavos are in place.”
“Plus, if you kill her, you don’t just have to contend with us,” Rafe pointed out. Ragan frowned when he took her fork and ate some of her cake. Two can play at this cake. She stabbed at the last bite of his apple pie, and his reaction was wonderful to watch.
Scott patted her hand. Rafe went on. “You need to face the lions who decided to side with Ragan.”
The unexpected loyalty of some of the lions warmed Ragan, which was why she couldn’t simply just abandon them. She uncrossed her legs. “Let’s cut the bullshit. I’m sure you two have plenty of business to take care of. The Perraults are scheming something, and have been at it for a while. Whether you like it or not, we’re allies now, and only an enemy makes a better friend.”
After talking it out with Rafe and Scott, Ragan had come out with her role. While she couldn’t exactly return to her old post, she could become some sort of liaison between the two crime families. Ren and Charity also voiced their support, so she hadn’t been alone there.
“Twins are always bad luck. I should have strangled you and your fucking twin in the cradle,” Red said in disgust. He stood. “If you need to communicate or talk to someone, it won’t be me. We’ll send another representative.”
Ragan beamed. “Perfect.”
Red turned his back on her, but she noticed River had lingered. She noticed he hadn’t spoken much during the entire conversation. Ragan didn’t know what to make out of River. Most people assumed he could’ve been Red’s twin, but Ragan knew while River acted reckless and sometimes made bad decisions, he was the more levelheaded brother. She’d never been close to him though, because of their huge age gap. He’d already gone to college when she was just graduating from grade school.
“Ragan, I’d like to ask you something,” River said.
He took a sip of his coffee, green eyes on her. River’s fea
tures looked more rough and less refined to Ren’s, his hair more a sandy color and his eyes deep green, almost black, but there was no mistaking they were blood. “We’ve grown up under the same roof, but I don’t know you very well.”
You never bothered to know, like father and Red, but I don’t blame you, brother. Father raised us to always be at one another’s throat, to never smile, but only open our mouths to bite. Ragan let him finish.
“But I respect you. Saw what you’ve done, and know your own men respect you even after you’ve taken wolves for mates. Do you think you’ll ever regret making this decision?” River’s gaze bore into hers, and Ragan had a feeling she suddenly knew a tiny inkling about her distant and unreadable brother.
Underneath his tone, Ragan sensed regret. She wondered if he let go of someone important to him for the sake of power.
“I know I won’t regret it.” Ragan did what she never expected. She wrote her cell phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to him. “If you need to talk.”
River dubiously eyed the paper, but tucked it inside his coat at the last minute. “I wish you all the happiness in the world, little sister.”
Ragan didn’t know what else to say. “Take care, big brother. Of Red and yourself.”
River visibly flinched at that, which made Ragan realize perhaps some part of River did care for his siblings. Ragan watched him leave, before finishing off her cake.
“What was that all about?” Rafe asked. He stole her attention by grazing his scarred knuckles gently over her left cheekbone.
“I’m not sure,” Ragan admitted.
“You ate my cake, Ragan. Without my permission,” Rafe drawled.
Ragan warily looked at Scott. “You did,” he said.
“You’re no help at all, Sir.” She poked him in the ribs, making him laugh. Ragan peered curiously over the undone top buttons of his shirt, and saw the perfect rounded hole where the bullet had been taken out.
“I’m fine. Remember the wound closed up a couple of days ago?” Scott reprimanded.
Rafe chuckled. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I want to see kitten out of that dress.”