by Aline Hunter
Bending at the waist, Diskant put his mouth to his mate’s ear. “They’re showing their respect, Ava. Now that we are mated you command the same power within the pack that I do. They won’t eat or serve anyone else until we’ve chosen our meal.” Releasing her, he lowered his arms and stepped back. “Choose what you’d like.”
It wasn’t a normal introduction and for a moment he thought she’d hesitate, which wouldn’t have been a good thing. Respect in a pack was garnered from power, control and confidence. Without those traits you went directly to the bottom of the food chain. As his mate, and a human, it was understandable that she would be confused. However, at some point she had to proclaim her place in the pack.
“Take what you want,” he ordered. It was a tone he’d never used with her before, and he hoped she’d use her talent to understand his motive. At that moment he was an Omega giving his mate a direct command.
It was difficult to mask his pride when she stepped forward with her head held high and took a plate from the female to her left and helped herself to another tray from the female to her right. It was too much food for her but that was precisely the point. Right then she’d managed to convey her importance by making one very important choice. As the mate to an Omega, it was her right to lay claim to every single morsel she desired, even if she only intended to throw it in the trash on the way out the door.
Turning to him, she extended a tray. “What would you like to drink?”
Damn if she didn’t captivate him. Even now—out of her element amidst a kitchen full of shifters—she continued to show him just how complex and intelligent she was.
“Bring a pitcher of Killian’s and some bottled water to our room.” Diskant spoke over Ava’s shoulder to Katie, the bloodbonded human female on the left who was now empty-handed, as he accepted the tray from Ava. When he returned his full attention to his mate she was smiled and stepped past him, leading the way back upstairs.
This time she guided the way through the bar. He allowed her to take the lead, staying close enough that he could grab her if he was so inclined but far enough away that her independence made a statement to the pack. Whether she knew it or not she was assuming her role in their ranks, showing them that she was capable of standing on her own. They recognized that, appreciated and respected it.
They made it through the crowd and entered the empty hall. As her ass swayed on the journey up the stairs he imagined sinking his teeth into the creamy swells one at a time. He wanted to bend her over the bed and force her to take him in the most primitive way of his kind. There was nothing sexier than fucking a woman in the ass. The trust it required was absolute, the ultimate act of submission.
His blood ran hot at the thought, cock swelling in anticipation. It would eventually happen. One more mark and the blood bond would be cemented. If she could face the beasts within him, claim them as her mates and accept their hold on her they would become tied for the duration of her life—or until the end of his. At that point she’d be just as wild and eager to try new things as he was to introduce them to her.
He closed the door after they entered the apartment and tried to staunch his need. Ava needed to eat, rest and recover from everything that had occurred in the last few days. She didn’t need him rutting on her like a fucking sex fiend. Placing the tray on the counter, he stopped short when he turned and found Ava on her knees before him.
Her large blue eyes were cloudy, her cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of red. Her tray of food was resting on the end table in the living room, left behind as she’d followed him into the kitchen.
So much for food, rest and recovery.
She unbuttoned his pants, yanked them down and wrapped her lips around his cock. He groaned and buried his fingers in her hair, tugging on the short strands, bringing her forward until the glans bumped the back of her throat. The mental connection they shared opened and he was able to feel her gratification at satisfying him like this. She loved his taste, his scent. It was a bestial tendency, something she’d never experienced before. The prominent entities within him—the cat, wolf and grizzly—also longed to reside in her. She would be the female who would sate them in ways no other ever could, completing them in a manner that would unite them as one.
Her fingers traveled along his inner thigh before she gently cupped his sac. She massaged the heavy weight with careful fingers, rolling the sensitive balls in her hand. He let his head fall back as she took control, taking more and more of his length into her mouth with each pass. The hot, wet cavern provided a dizzying suction, her lips and tongue bringing him closer to the pinnacle. When he started to pull away, she released his testicles, cupped his ass and sucked harder.
I want to swallow you whole, she whispered in his mind. I’m so hungry for you.
He came the instant he slid to the back of her mouth and she swallowed. His semen shot down her throat and she didn’t choke or gag, swallowing each wave, drinking him down until his semi-hard cock slid from her glistening lips.
Gasping for breath, he lifted and carried her into the bedroom, making sure to close the door behind them so they wouldn’t be interrupted. Once there he lowered her to the bed and slowly undressed her, taking his time, licking and lapping at every delectable curve of her body. Peeling off her bra and panties, he moved between her legs and inhaled her scent. Her cunt was shimmering, the dewy folds puffy and pink.
She arched her back and cried out as he palmed her ass, brought her to his mouth and tasted her sweetness, coating his tongue in her honey. He alternated between fucking her with his tongue and lapping at her clit, using fast, measured strokes.
She panted, writhed and ground against his face. “Diskant.”
“All mine, Ava,” he whispered as he feasted on her.
“All yours,” she murmured breathlessly.
She shattered in his arms as he focused on her clit, flicking his tongue over the distended bead that had pushed its way from the fleshy hood. Up and down, back and forth, each lap sensuous and teasing. She grasped at his head, her legs stiffening around his shoulders. Parting her cheeks, he lowered his head and gazed at the rosette he wanted to claim before he tasted her there, running his tongue over the surface of the puckered skin as she gasped and squirmed.
“Do you like that?” He pulled away and looked at her.
The red stain on her cheeks answered his unspoken question. He would be the first and only man to claim her dark passage, the only one to know the heaven that existed in ramming his cock deep inside her ass.
“One day soon,” he rotated his finger along the sensitive tissue that was still wet from his tongue, “I’m going to take you here.”
Her eyes darkened and her breath caught, her silence indicating she was more than willing to try. He released her ass and moved up her body, sliding up her sweat-slicked frame, licking at the shimmering, salty beads along the way. She was entirely open to him—arms wide, legs spread, mind unlocked—and a quick shift of his hips was all it took to be buried inside of her.
Cock to cunt, skin to skin and heart to heart.
So close that he could have sworn he could feel her very soul.
Her fingers raked the skin on his back as she worked herself against him, straining for that one, last mind-numbing climax. He rolled his hips until his cock was nudging her clit with each downward stroke, so that with each thrust he slid his length against her. The feral portions of him raged for him to take the final step, to allow them to surround Ava in their strength, their power, their essence and mark her in their scent. It would be so easy to do, bringing them wholly together.
“Yes,” she rasped against his throat, clinging to him. “God, please.”
“Soon,” he promised and increased the pace, plunging harder when he felt her quicken. Denying his urges came at a price, making him wild in his motions as he plowed into her delicate body. Each retreat was met by a harsher, less forgiving, return. He had to spend himself inside her, satiate himself and allow her to rest and recover.
The third mark would be the most important one, requiring all her strength.
When she came, he immediately followed. Her pussy spasmed, clenched and vibrated around him, shrouding his cock in heat, squeezing him until he thought he’d die from the agony of it. He roared, his hoarse bellow echoing off the walls as ripples of white-hot pleasure ricocheted through his body.
As he settled over her, blanketing her small body while pulling her in the shelter of his arms, he knew that next time he would finally do what he longed to do.
Ava was his other half, his bloodbonded mate.
There was no going back.
Chapter Fifteen
Mary pressed her ear against her door, straining to hear what John was saying through the thin wood. The sounds of his footsteps in the kitchen were muted, as was his voice.
“I’ve requested a prayer vigil from the congregations, of course.” John’s muffled words carried down the hallway. “It is the most giving sacrifice. They are to be commended. Yes, she’ll be ready when you arrive. She’s atoned and is ready to take her vows.” An extended silence and John said, “Yes, everything will be ready by the time you arrive tomorrow.”
It felt as if spiders crawled over her skin, making her cringe. Her stomach churned in panic and a bitter-tasting bile rose to the back of her throat. She moved away from the door, wanting to vomit, run and scream at the top of her lungs.
Yesterday she’d learned that prayer wasn’t the only thing her demented kinfolk had decided would keep her on the straight and narrow. In this Children of the Corn fucked-up version of hell she had to prove her worth the good old-fashioned way.
By killing a shifter.
Pretending to pray was one thing. Agreeing to kill someone was another. When Mary was taken to the girl who was her own age and told what she’d be expected to do—degrade, torture, and mutilate the poor thing until she broke—it had taken all of her willpower not to break down and show the sick freaks how disgusted, repulsed and horrified she truly felt.
“Donna and Nathaniel went into town,” John continued and she heard the sound of a cabinet being closed. “She wanted to prepare something special for your return.”
The shivering that had overtaken her body vanished, gone in the instant she heard those ever important, all-changing words.
Donna and Nathaniel went into town.
Oh dear god, it couldn’t be.
It was just her and John.
An opportunity like this would not come again, not by the time she’d be forced to sacrifice a portion of her soul in order to save her life. She’d always known that when she made her dash for freedom the opportunity would come when she least expected it.
If she wanted to get out, the time was now.
Moving away from the door, she hurried to the closet and pulled down the blankets, uncovering the backpack with a few carefully collected items inside. There wasn’t much, just a small amount of cash, a couple changes of clothing and her ID, but it would be enough until she contacted the attorney to retrieve the safety deposit box key and make the trip to Florida.
After sliding into her sneakers and retrieving her thin, weathered jacket, she tossed the backpack on the bed, returned to the closet and searched blindly with her hand until her fingers wrapped around the rubber grip of the wooden baseball bat she’d smuggled from the garage. Lifting it carefully, she took a quiet step backward and inhaled a slow, jagged breath, trying to soothe her nerves.
She listened to John as he continued prattling on. When she heard him hang up the phone she walked over to the door, opened it and took her spot on the left side of the entranceway. Her heart was racing, beating so hard and fast she could have sworn that it echoed throughout the house. She held the weapon with sweaty hands, increasing her grip until she felt the skin pinch in protest.
This is it.
Game on.
“John?” she called, clenching the bat, feeling it bite against her fingers and palm.
“Yes, Mary?” he called back, obviously moving about in the kitchen.
“Can you come here please?”
She shifted her weight, getting a feel for the length of wood in her hands as she got into position. His heavy footsteps sounded from the hallway until they were just beside her, and he stepped into the room. He didn’t see her upon entry, his gaze resting on her backpack just long enough for her to take aim.
It’s now or never.
Hefting her weight into her right leg and shoulder, she gained momentum as she brought the heavy bat around, aiming for the base of his skull. The wood kissed bone, creating a sickening crack that seemed to rip off the walls. He went down immediately and a huge swell of blood formed in his blond hair, cascading down the back of his neck and into the collar of his shirt. He didn’t move, completely motionless, and when she took a closer look she could see a solid flash of white where the skull was now dented inward.
Dropping the bat, she sank to her knees and went for his pockets. The keys to the old, battered Dodge would be there—her only escape out of purgatory. When she had them in hand, she snagged the bag on the bed and made a beeline down the hall. It wasn’t dark yet, the sun just sinking below the horizon. Hopefully by the time she made it onto the road it would be too dark to distinguish the vehicle, buying her just enough time to ditch the ancient piece of junk before making way to the Greyhound station.
As she ran from the house to the truck her conscience reared its ugly head, reminding her that there was a young woman trapped in a cage who was doomed to die. Mary shook the memory aside and climbed into the truck, throwing her bag into the empty seat beside her. Her heart was racing, adrenaline causing her to shake, making it difficult to breathe. The motor stalled several times before it roared to life. Pressing on the brake, she grabbed the column shifter on the wheel and yanked it into drive.
For the second time, her guilt surfaced. She pictured the young girl in the cage, her face caked with dirt, tearstains streaking in winding paths down her cheeks.
“If you don’t help her, you’ll regret it,” she muttered and turned her head, staring in the direction of woods. “You’ll be no better than them.”
The sun was setting. If she was going to do something, she had to make the decision now.
To hell with it.
Punching the gas, she swiveled the wheel and drove through the grass in a direct path. The building loomed ahead, coming closer as the odometer hit 60 mph. Mary slammed on the breaks just outside, put the truck into park and left the motor running when she jumped from the truck. She pried opened the door and the stench was unbearable, so rancid she gagged as she stepped inside. Staggering to the wall, she reached for a large, bloodstained axe on its appointed peg.
“Please don’t,” the young woman started to beg as Mary approached.
Mary ignored her and strode to the cage. She lifted the blunt edge of the axe and brought it down on the lock until the thick latch and casing ripped away, leaving behind a mess of metal and splinter. The moment Mary had the door ajar and the woman could flee, she dropped the tool used in ways she didn’t want to imagine and returned the way she came.
Time was passing too quickly. If she didn’t hurry someone could show up and stop her.
There was no way she’d survive another night in this place.
As she ran from the building and climbed into the truck the shifter walked through the entrance and came into view. Her clothing was shredded, her hair was a mess and there was a panic that Mary understood all too well written all over her face. She stumbled as she ran for the truck.
“Don’t leave me here,” she cried, swaying on her feet. “Please!”
Damn it.
Mary drove forward so the woman could climb into the passenger side. The moment the door was closed Mary gunned the gas, spraying loose gravel and grass all over. As they drove through the field and past the house, Mary stared at the porch, terrified that John had come around and would call someone to stop them. To her relief, no one appeared. The
house remained quiet with no outward signs of life.
Mary’s skin crawled when she imagined how Elijah would react when he returned home and found his rogue niece gone and was forced to track her down. And he would track her, of that she was certain. She remembered his warning before he had left with his kin, had clung to it almost as much as the pain she received via the cane for releasing the shifters and betraying her own family.
“Don’t force my hand, Mary girl. I don’t want to kill you but I will.”
“Thank you,” the shifter whispered and Mary glanced at the woman in the seat beside her. She was swiping at her tearstained cheeks, smearing mud all over her face.
“Don’t thank me.” Mary punched the accelerator, put on speed and drove as fast as she could in the direction of the state line. “Not yet.”
Chapter Sixteen
Ava shifted on the barstool and watched the shifters around her as they paced, shining eyes taking in everything, motions seamless but anxious.
Hours after dawn, the beautiful shifter with the dark hair, green eyes and a sexy Scottish brogue had come to the apartment to inform Diskant that the exchange was set to take place just before sunset. Kinsley would deliver Emory to the Shepherds and the pack would trail them at a safe distance until Aldon intercepted them at the state line.
Since she had been a shadow in Diskant’s and Kinsley’s minds, she understood why they felt the Shepherds had to be eradicated. The religious hunters were a group of crazed zealots who truly believed they were doing god’s work, each one completely immersed in the cause of ridding the world of Lucifer’s taint. Once they disposed of Emory they’d spread the word to neighboring congregations about the large pack in New York strengthened by an Omega, asking for volunteers to come to the city to begin a thorough cleansing.
That meant they had to be taken out before word spread.
When she recalled the strange, all-consuming bloodlust that had rolled through Diskant and Kinsley as they contemplated the impending confrontation, her stomach heaved. She could almost taste the metallic rustiness of fresh blood on their tongues and feel the heaviness of the thick fluid as it trickled down their throats.