Predator's Claim

by Rosanna Leo

  “Only I need to make a little adjustment.” He reached for the hem of her coat and tugged it lower so it hid her sparkly behind. “There. Much better.”

  “What’s the matter, wolf man? Don’t you like my glittery ass?”

  “Oh, I like it more than you know. I just don’t want anyone else clapping eyes on it.”

  The old Charlotte would have lobbed another smart remark his way and readjusted her coat hem. But this Charlotte, the one who seemed insistent on pining over this man, remained silent and gnawed her lip with delirious satisfaction.

  “Come,” he said, taking her arm and sparking a chain reaction of luscious tingles down her spine. “Things have become more relaxed since we heard Burns was found. I want to have a good time tonight. There are still some pack members you haven’t met. Let me introduce you.”

  Her head in a muddle, she seemed to lose track of her intention to kibosh this mate malarkey now that she was in his presence. As he introduced her to some new faces, she smiled and nodded, feeling at a loss for words. That was a new one for her. She’d never been rendered speechless before. However, something about the way Bart escorted her around the gathering, his hand always either clenched with hers or on the small of her back, left her at a loss. She’d never felt in need of a man’s guiding hand, had scoffed at the idea, but right now it floored her with how right it seemed.

  Because it was him.

  My mate.

  And as much as she remained quiet during the interactions, she noticed her chest had expanded with a feeling of nostalgic warmth. Dammit, she liked his family. They all welcomed her with hugs and smiles, clearly good people. A new ease shone from Bart tonight as well. He stood head and shoulders above them all, acknowledging everyone with grace and strength, as if he’d accepted his role. When someone teased him or told a joke about his childhood, he smiled and took the good-hearted jabs well, displaying his own sense of humor. The flickering light from the bonfire illuminated his proud features, emphasizing the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones, and she had trouble looking away. She had to hand it to him. The man knew how to work a crowd. He even seemed to enjoy it.

  That didn’t stop him from squeezing her hand between one conversation. He threw her another of his famished looks and whispered in her ear, “I want to make you come again. And it’s going to happen soon.”

  Her wolf howled and pleaded. Yes. We’ll smooth our paw over his scar and lick his neck. We’ll hold him and take him inside our mouth. We’ll submit.

  Jesus, she wasn’t sure she knew how to submit and yet she felt suddenly willing to give it a whirl.

  The specter of Flynn arose a few times during the evening. Each time someone mentioned Flynn’s banishment, she noticed how Bart bit the inside of his cheek and knew he kept his emotions in check. At the same time, he watched the proceedings with keen eyes, as if rooting out any other non-supporters.

  Charlotte surveyed the area and mused about the same thing, feeling anger surge in her system. As fury took hold inside her, fast and unexplainable, she realized she wanted nothing more than to pulverize any of his detractors.

  Nothing made sense, especially her own feelings for Bart. With dismay, Charlotte realized each moment in his company was welding her to him, making it harder to walk away.

  And walk away, she must. Before it got too late. Better just to disappear soon and let him forget her. Even though she’d never forget their kisses, or his possessive clutches, or the way their bodies glided so perfectly against each other in bed.

  Fuckdamnshitpisshell. Stop torturing yourself. This has to stop.

  “Charles,” he said, rubbing his thumb on her palm. “Do you want a drink?” His face assumed amused lines that made her heart sing. “I’ll even rustle up a Long Island for you.”

  “I’d better not,” she joked. “I might do something I regret.”

  “If you did it with me, you wouldn’t regret it. And neither would I.” His eyes flashed with a dark, sensual flame as he brushed his arm against hers.

  Fuckety fuck. Why did he have to keep making it so hard? He didn’t even need to flirt with her to make her hot. The most insignificant glance, his very breath curling in the cold air, made her want to tumble out of her clothes and wrap herself around him. Her pulse sped up. Her skin craved contact with his. It was so much easier when she brushed off his flirty comments with a disdainful wave, but now, every comment seemed to hit home inside her.

  Okay, the situation was officially out of control.

  She had to make her exit. Now, or she’d never have the fortitude to leave him. She’d look like the worst person in the history of bad people, but it was preferable to running from him later, when things got serious.

  “Bartholomew,” she said in a voice which sounded bizarre and shaky. “I have to go.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I…this is wrong…”

  “Charlotte,” he began, his voice cracking with ominous undertones.

  Right at that moment, a dreadful howl pierced the air. Everyone around them gasped and stopped chatting, staring blankly into the darkness. Within seconds, a big brown wolf leaped into the circle of pack members, wobbling on its long legs, but fangs bared. It dashed forward, saliva dripping from its open mouth, and landed right before Joseph.

  His dad stared at the wolf, wary, and Bart was just as alert, his whole body tensed. He let go of Charlotte’s hand and moved in front of his father. Nate and Lena brought up the rear.

  She looked back and forth between Bart and the wolf, unsure of what was happening.

  Bart pinned his angry gaze on the shifter. “Flynn, this isn’t the time to beg for handouts. And you’re drunk. Now if you’re going to address the Alpha, do it like a man.”

  The wolf’s head wove back and forth and he let out another dismal howl.

  All of a sudden, Fletcher burst from between a few family members and arrived, out of breath, before Bart. He threw a look of disdain at his brother wolf. “He’s drunk. Bart. He’s not himself.”

  Bart turned to Flynn. “Talk to me.”

  With a beastly grunt, Flynn shifted back into human form and shook out his limbs. He reached over and put a finger against Bart’s chest. “Why should I talk to you? Fletcher and I spent our lives in your shadow. I don’t wanna talk to you anymore.” He spat the words as if they were the worst of insults.

  Charlotte shivered as Bart knocked Flynn’s hand away. The impact almost sent the other man flying, and she worried Bart was about to lose his tenuous control over his rage. Flynn righted himself, and the pack members circled, clearly sensing a confrontation. All around her, she heard huffed breaths and saw nostrils flare.

  Bart planted his feet and clenched his fists. “Fine, don’t talk. But don’t think I’ll allow you to address this gathering in the state you’re in. You’ve been banished. Now leave and show some respect.”

  “Respect?” Flynn laughed. “Seriously? For you? Oh, you were always so full of yourself. Pretty comfy acting the Alpha already, huh? You disgust me.”

  “I’m running out of patience, cousin.”

  “Oh! The family golden boy is running out of patience. Quick, everyone. Gather round and sing ‘Kumbaya’,” Flynn taunted through his stupor.

  A tremor went through Bart’s frame, making him tense. He rolled his shoulders, and Charlotte heard the pop in his neck as his spine adjusted. His eyes took on an amber hue, and she expected his wolf to appear.

  However, before he could shift, Joseph put a hand on his shoulder and stepped around his son. “Bart, let me talk to Flynn.” He addressed his nephew, each word quieter than the last. “Son, I know you’re disappointed…”

  “Don’t call me that. You’re not my father. You never were.” Flynn paced and grabbed someone’s half-empty beer bottle from where it sat on a tree stump. He downed the remainder of the beer in one gulp, wiped his mouth, and stared at Joseph. Within seconds, his angry face disappeared and his features softened, turning down at th
e corners. His shoulders shuddered as the cold hit him, and his words came out as strangled sobs. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

  “I know,” Joseph said quietly, stepping toward his naked and shivering nephew. He took his coat off and placed it around Flynn’s shoulders. “Why don’t I take you back to your cabin so you can get dressed and sober up?”

  He stared, wide-eyed at Joseph. “I’ll never forgive you, you know. I can’t. First you killed my dad, and because of it, my mother died. And now you rob me of my inheritance!”

  Once again, a hush came over the pack members as Flynn’s words hit home.

  Bart stepped forward, his aura practically glowing red with rage, and Charlotte’s wolf was right behind him, seeking to calm him. “You sniveling shit,” he threatened. “How many times do you need to be told your father’s death was an accident? How long are you going to hold my dad responsible?”

  “As long as it takes for him to realize the role of Alpha should be mine,” Flynn replied, his eyes watering with drunkenness as much as hatred. He wove on his spot, but his strong body remained poised for battle.

  Her hackles raised, Charlotte inched closer to Bart and put a hand on his waistband. He turned and acknowledged her with a look. Stay back, Charles. I mean it. I have a feeling this is going to get ugly.

  I’m not going anywhere. Her wolf hunkered down and its lips curled, ready to defend Bart.

  Fletcher ran forward and stepped between his brother and Bart. “That’s enough. He’s drunk and doesn’t understand what he’s saying. It might as well be gibberish. I’m taking him to my cabin so he can sleep it off.”

  Fletcher put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, but Flynn shook it off, charging up to their little group. “Get your hands off me, bro!” He turned to the pack members, wobbling a little less than before. “I hereby challenge Bart Cairo for the role of Alpha. He’s not fit to lead and neither was Joseph. It should be me.” He spun around and faced Joseph. “You lost all credibility for me the day you let my dad die. He was ten times the man you are and his line will rule this pack, not yours.”

  Charlotte’s back bristled with nervous energy, and she wanted to slap Flynn across the face for challenging her man. Her man? Okay, whatever he was. How dare he?

  Bart stood up tall and straight, and seemed taller than usual. He pinned his gaze on his cousin. “You don’t mean that. I am the leader of this pack, and I have its confidence.”

  And just like that, the pack members began to shift into wolf form and bowed their furry heads to him. Lena and Nate quickly doffed their clothing, shifted, and did the same, bowing low to their brother. One by one, each pack member followed suit.

  All except Flynn, who seemed more dazed than angry now, and Fletcher, who stood completely still, his eyes wide with shock.

  The majesty of the moment was not lost on Charlotte. As surprised, and frankly horrified, as Bart appeared, there was something distinctly regal in his bearing and the arch of his brow as he surveyed all the canine figures bent before him. He narrowed his eyes at Flynn and then turned to her. Charlotte, I want you out of here.

  I’m not going.

  I don’t want you to see this.

  I’m not leaving you.

  Lost in his dark eyes, she couldn’t remove her gaze from his. With every blink, she tried to muster up the strength to drag her gaze away, but couldn’t. In that moment, Bart Cairo acted as a magnet to her cold heart, and she felt attached to his hard, muscled form. Drawn to him, she didn’t have the wherewithal to leave his vicinity and knew in that moment she’d die before she let anything bad happen to him. His Alpha power filled her with desire and hope, and she wanted nothing more than to spirit him away from this scene, lay before him, and offer him all she had. Her body, her brain, her dreams. She wanted to spread her legs to him, welcome him into her soul, and be joined to him forever.

  My mate.

  “Well, isn’t this special?” Flynn mocked, gleaning their silent conversation. “You know, I hate to stand in the way of true love and all that crap.”

  “Flynn,” Fletcher warned. “Watch it, bro…”

  Flynn turned to his brother, and Charlotte could almost see their own wordless conversation from the way they held their heads, from the way their eyes widened and narrowed on each other.

  Flynn turned back to Bart. “My parents had true love. They adored each other.” He turned on Joseph. “And you took it away from them.” He paused, flexing his muscles and clenching his fists. He turned to her. “Did Bart even tell you how my mother died? Huh?”

  She shook her head.

  “She wasted away without my father. None of us could help her overcome her grief, not even her sons. Day by day, we watched her dwindle and fade, losing strength and energy and the will to live. Without my dad, without her mate, she didn’t have the ability to carry on.”

  Damn, she knew full well the connection between mated shifters, had seen it in her friends and family. A life-long bond, the death of one partner could easily spell the demise of the other. In fact, if Charlotte thought hard about it, she didn’t know any widowed shifters. Sure, she’d heard about mates who passed away after one partner died, but had never known anyone involved in such a travesty. It was the saddest thing she’d ever heard.

  And her worst fear. To love someone so much…that you’d die if you lost him.

  As the next moments passed, as if in gut-wrenching slow motion, Charlotte watched in horror as Flynn shifted, let out a fearsome howl, and bared his teeth at Joseph. He crouched down low, preparing to fight, and leaped toward the former Alpha.

  Joseph didn’t waste a moment. Bart’s dad had already shifted into his own terrible wolf and got ready to defend himself. As Flynn flew at him, biting the air in anticipation of biting him, Joseph bared his own set of admirable fangs.

  Bart cried out. “Dad, no!”

  As Flynn rammed his uncle, Joseph braced himself. The two wolves reeled from the heavy impact and began to roll, tussling with each other. Charlotte had never heard such frightening sounds as Joseph’s and Flynn’s teeth tearing at each other. Somewhere next to her, she became aware of Bart shifting into his raging wolf, ready to defend his father. Even still, the sounds of his clothes ripping and tearing could not mask the sounds coming from the warring wolves in front of her. Bart moved, taking up an offensive stance, and she feared for his life.

  A terrifying moan rent the air, and she jumped, trying desperately to see what was happening in the blur of fur and blood. When she saw Joseph on the ground, his throat raw and bleeding, an altogether human scream escaped her. Flynn reared back, his mouth drenched in crimson rage.

  For a second, no one moved. Even Bart, whose wolf body quivered with the need to wreak havoc, stilled and stared, unsure of his dad’s state.

  Flynn chose that instant to send out a telepathic message to the assembled pack. I’m your Alpha now.

  Bart’s eyes glowed almost orange and his voice sounded hollow and malevolent, even though his words weren’t spoken aloud. You’ll never be our Alpha, you utter waste of space.

  With that, he flew at Flynn. While several pack members ran to Joseph, others stood still, frozen by shock. Charlotte, however, was galvanized into action by the sight of Bart battling his cousin. With a shudder, she shrugged out of her coat and allowed the hairs on her wolf body to burst through her human skin, and her body dropped to the ground as her clothes went flying from her frame. As she endured the bizarre transformation that had always set her apart from humans, she jolted and coughed. Within seconds, her strangled shouts became the haunting howls of a large wolf. She tracked a bloodied Bart as he tackled his cousin yet again, and prepared to launch her own attack on Flynn.

  How dare he hurt Bart’s family in this way? She’d make him feel pain.

  But as she rushed forward, another anguished cry pierced the night. She stopped in her tracks, each muscle shaking, worried Flynn has bested Bart.

  He hadn’t. Flynn lay on the sno
wy ground, shuddering. He was wounded and bleeding, but alive.

  Bart fell back, still in wolf form, his eyes wide and amazed as he stared at his bloodied cousin. Charlotte trotted over to him. Eager to calm him in some way, she licked his face and removed Flynn’s vile blood from his countenance. His chest plagued by shaky breaths, he bumped his head against hers.

  Charlotte. Get me out of here before I kill him.

  Okay. I will. Let’s just make sure everyone is okay. She licked his nose and he leaned into her caress.

  Aware of movement to her right, Charlotte looked over to Joseph. He already fared better. Although his wound appeared deadly, and might have been to a human, he was sitting up and letting Shirley fuss over him. Flynn must not have injured him too badly.

  As for Flynn, he stood, moaning in his wolf voice. Fletcher ran over and propped him up. Fearing retaliation from Fletcher, Charlotte kept her gaze honed on him. However, still in dazed human guise, the other cousin simply nodded his head toward Bart. “I’m sorry…my Alpha.”

  Bart merely stared for a moment, but then acknowledged his words with a blink. Get him out of here.

  They watched as Fletcher led Flynn away.

  Nate and Lena moved to comfort their dad, nuzzling his head. Other pack members did the same. But Bart did not follow their lead. He fell back on his haunches, staring into the blazing bonfire. His gaze seemed to land on a flickering piece of ash as it wended its way up into the sky. With his chin lifted, his eyes wild, Bart let out a mournful howl that shook the trees.

  Charlotte held firm at Bart’s side. As her heart stopped and started with dread, she leaned against him, nuzzling her head against his strong shoulders, willing to do anything to give him comfort. They both shifted into their human shapes. He started and sucked in a breath, as if coming out of a coma, and looked at her. He reached for her discarded coat and wrapped it around her. As he did, he slid his arms around her shoulders, holding her tightly to him. Her wolf scraped against her insides, wanting so badly to touch him properly, intimately. She wound her arms around his taut waist. Only then did she feel a crack in his armor. A tremor passed through his big frame, and she held him tight, knowing the white knight was about to tumble off his charger.