Creed shook his head. Was it just her imagination or did he appear bigger? Broader? “Not tonight,” he said with the authority of the alpha. “Not unless we have to. I want to hunt this bastard when he’s gone down for the day, and we have to get word to Henri. A rogue in Greenwood County is definitely his business, though he may want us to take care of it.”
“Henri?” Deanna asked, raising her head from Margy ‘s fur. “You’ve said that name before. Who is Henri?”
Margy made a soft whine. Creed stared hard at her, his dominance nearly a physical presence around them. “Our local Master Vamp.”
She blinked. Horror filled her. “You have a master?” And I came here? I trusted you?
Creed gave the slightest smiles. “No. He doesn’t own us. We have a truce and a division of responsibilities.”
“And you let him kill your people.” Her stomach turned.
“No. Of course not. Only rogue vampires kill people.”
“No one prospers when supernaturals kill humans,” said Richard as he came back from the kitchen with an armload of wooden stakes.
She shook her head, but didn’t argue. The idea of being partners with a vamp was beyond her reasoning ability. Bloodsuckers deserved to die—they were dead things, not natural, like werewolves. That’s what she had always believed anyway. She hoped she wouldn’t meet this Henri, she would certainly be tempted to drive a stake through his unbeating heart—if that was even how a vampire was killed. She couldn’t assume a thousand movies had it right. “Why would he help you kill his own kind?”
Creed shrugged. “He kills his own kind, Deanna. Rather more than we do. He’s an enforcer for the Master Vamp of Seattle. They keep a tidy house here in Western Washington. We, at least, have to get word to him.”
She turned away, confused and somehow angry at him. How could he align himself with vampires? They preyed on people.
The night beyond the windows called to her. She longed to run out the door, change shape, and lose herself in the dark forest. What had happened between her and Creed confused her, frightened her.
But the thing of her nightmares lurked nearby, a far worse terror than the strange pull between her and the alpha. The bloodsucker was out there right now. Watching her. She shivered and clenched her eyes close, fighting the crippling panic.
* * * *
It was a long night. She fell asleep at last on the couch, Margy beside her still in wolf form. Her fears tried to haunt, but the smell of pack comforted her despite her worries. She fell asleep at last, staring in the coals of the fire and listening to Margy breathe beside her.
She awoke in a strange bed thick with Creed’s scent. No panic or fear filled her though, just comfort and security. Ugh! That was worse. Her wolf was accepting him as alpha—the very last thing she wanted. Well, second to last. The first thing she didn’t want was to be a vampire snack.
Still, the cotton sheets were smooth and rich. He did have good taste in bedding. The sound of running water made her turn her head, and she found herself looking straight into his private bathroom and shower. The glass door was only partially fogged and she held her breath while her eyes roved over his amazing body. Lean muscle wrapped in sinew bulged in all the right places, from his tight calves to his narrow hips to his broad, rippling shoulders.
He opened the door, shaking the water from his eyes. “You want to join me—or you just here for the view?”
She blushed, and gathered the sheet to her chest. “I’m not getting anywhere near you.”
“Scared, huh? All right.” He closed the door, and she ground her teeth. She listened to the hiss of the hot water while steam moved wet and warm over her face.
Scared? She had been running from a vampire for three days—she thought she had gone a long way to proving her courage. Of course, fleeing for one’s life wasn’t the same as fighting. And he thought she was scared of him? Well, to be honest, she was. The physical attraction between them was unlike anything she had ever felt. A formless panic gnawed at her. If she gave in—she could lose herself in him, in his dominance. Did she really want to be his mate, now and forever? But then, maybe it was purely physical, she reasoned. Maybe if she just got him out of her system…
Now that was a dangerous thought.
Her heart beat faster, and she went back to looking at him. Longing clenched her lower regions, her stomach tightening, her inner thighs quivering. Part of her wanted to run from the room, but instead she rose, dropped the sheet, and walked toward him.
The warm shower steam caressed her skin like a tropic mist, comforting and secretive. Her stomach fluttered as she admired him, but as he turned, what she saw grabbed her by the throat. She didn’t breathe for a moment. Old scars marked his back and shoulders, paler lines on his tan flesh—and she knew what they were. The marks from his last challenge. Had he killed the previous packleader? To wound a werewolf to such a degree must have left him near death.
He looked back at her, raising his eyebrows in question. She blinked and shook herself. The smile that widened his mouth was downright wolfy, and his eyeteeth gleamed white and sharp. He opened the door again, challenging her with his stance and expression. Her womb clenched tight with need and overruled all the doubts and questions that filled her.
Pulling her T-shirt off over her head, she relished the wet air on her bare skin. She unhooked her bra and let it drop to the floor. His eyes devoured her, but he didn’t move any closer. She found his gaze heightened her arousal and seared her skin. Her nipples tightened—the buds tight and hot, begging for his touch.
Next came her jeans, and a delicious power filled her as she saw his stare hungrily following her fingers. She flicked the button, and pulled down the zipper.
Could she do this? Make love to this stranger? Worries began to crowd out her desire, like the drone of flies around a fresh pie. She shooed them away. She wanted her damn pie.
She raised her eyes to his, and felt once more wrapped in safety. Water dripped from his body, running over his cut muscles like aqueducts channeling water through canals. Dark hair started at his chest and formed a line down his six-pack belly and finally formed a nest above his massive erection. His sex bobbed upward, huge and pulsing. Blood rushed to her lower lips, infusing her with a raw, animal lust, but it was more than that. Power snapped back and forth between them. It was a connection she couldn’t understand and yet, couldn’t deny.
She wiggled out of her jeans and panties and thanked goodness they were the nice pair, the black ones with the lacy edge.
He reached out and took her hand with his much larger one. His skin burned with heat from the shower, and he pulled her inside the stall, her feet half-slipping on the wet tiles. The steam swirled around them as he yanked her up against his hard flesh, his sex pressed between them. One hand held her firmly in place while the other moved to her chin. He tilted up her face and kissed her, but this was not the kind of kisses she had received in college. That was like comparing a fluffy, white lap dog to a wild wolf.
Her senses went mad. His lips claimed hers, took her with possessive assurance, and his body left no space between them. She found herself against the shower wall, and his hand stroked her nipple. He flicked the eager tip with this finger and thumb before slipping his hand down her side, caressing her trembling flesh.
She gave herself to the present and didn’t think about either the past or the future.
Her wolf gloried in submitting to him—exposing her neck and giving him access to master her body. He ran kisses down the slope of her shoulder, running the edge of his teeth across her taut skin. She cried with pleasure and dug her nails into his back.
As he stepped back, his eyes raked down over her naked flesh. A wildness came into his bright eyes, and his expression grew even more feral. Hands on her hips, he knelt down, the water pounding the back of his head, and he parted her cleft with his fingers. She gasped, searching for breath in the steam. Her curls wrapped eagerly around his fingers and he touched her. Th
en his mouth kissed her, his tongue slipping into the warm chasm and dancing with her clit.
She raised her leg and wrapped it around his shoulder while he pressed closer, tasting her and feasting on her juices. One of her hands dug into his hair. She couldn’t help herself. The pleasure was consuming her, just as he was. She moaned out loud and he sucked her clit into his mouth and tugged.
He stood again, running kisses up her flat belly and sucking on each eager nipple as he stood. She arched for him with wanton surrender.
He lifted her up by the bottom, and her legs parted to wrap about his narrow hips. The shower spray hissed around them. It was like drowning in hot mist. His lips found hers again, and his tongue probed, forcing her teeth apart and thrusting deep inside her. Claiming her. Owning her. This is mine, his kiss said.
And she sucked his tongue, telling him that what was his was now hers. Her submission brought breathtaking power. The muscles on his back clenched and rippled as he pushed her higher on the shower wall, and his strength was hers. She could feel the supremacy of his body, and she clung to him like a rodeo cowgirl taking on the wild bronco.
His massive sex pushed an inch into her moist interior—and she stretched to accommodate him. He slowed, as she gasped in pain and pleasure. He was too big. She didn’t think she’d ever fit him in—but her body strained, and her legs tightened, and he pushed inside some more until she cried out. His hands cupped her bottom, and his gold eyes peered into hers. Tension clutched his shoulders and strained the sinew that wrapped up his neck. She could see the strain of control tightening his jaw as he fought to keep from pushing all the way into her. And she wanted him. But he was already filling her. She didn’t think she could take any more.
His look of pain hurt her too though, and she clenched her legs, forcing him deeper. Her sheath stretched around him and he pushed deeper, one inch at a time. When she was sure she had reached the end of him, he pushed even deeper.
He pulled back before pushing forward again. Taking her with slow precision, he slid in and out, the wet sound of their joining mingling with the hissing rain of the shower. She dug her teeth into his wide, wet shoulder as pleasure climbed past pain. Her warm interior greedily sucked him up, and ecstasy built in her like water behind a dam. He impaled her again and again with his long staff, but she took it, absorbed his strength, felt his sex sliding inside her lubricated tunnel, and she opened wide for it. He could take anything he wanted.
And he took her.
A growl came to his throat, rumbling her body as his own pleasure began peaking, and the sex grew rougher. He thrust into her with renewed aggression, his teeth tightening on her shoulder. He pinned her to the hard tiles, and one hand braced her bottom while the other traveled up to her hair, tangling in the wet strands. He drew her head to one side and clamped his teeth on her shoulder. It should have hurt. She should have screamed and fought him, but the wolf relished his mastery.
The dam broke inside her, and light flashed before her closed eyes. Bliss erupted from her womb and exploded upward, shaking her with intensity. Waves of pleasure made her body clasp around him and her legs squeeze. She cried out, an echoing howl filling the shower, and her teeth came down on his shoulder, the salty-copper taste of blood filling her mouth.
He arched against her, and she could feel him pump hot seed into her as he came to a shuddering stop. He pushed one last time to fill her, pressing her hard against the tiles and his own teeth grazed her deep, the pain seeming to be part of the pleasure. She shuddered and gripped him, wet and trembling.
At last they were still, clinging to each other while the final trembling waves of passion slowly faded.
He reached behind him and turned off the water without withdrawing, and then kissed one last time, the taste of blood mingling with the water dripping down her face. She felt him slide from her body, and she made a sound against his open mouth, a protest that made him chuckle. “Don’t worry. It’ll come up again soon.”
He set her down and dried her off, holding the towel to her shoulder as she gazed in shock and embarrassment at the bite mark—red and vivid on the sloped muscle at the junction of his neck. Had she really done that? Good God, she couldn’t believe she had savaged him in such a way.
Blood dripped down his chest, but even as she watched, he healed. She stepped away from him and moved to the foggy mirror. Brushing aside the condensation, she stared at the new scar on her shoulder, the remnants of blood still staining her right breast. A red circle, as if an outline of the moon—a crimson moon.
He came up behind her and kissed her healed skin gently. “Don’t worry. We won’t do that to each other each time. The mating ceremony requires an exchange of blood.”
“What?” she turned and stared up at him. His eyes were brighter than usual, full of wolf-magic. He grinned, appearing a bit wild and stunned. He reached out and touched the new scar on her skin with his fingertips.
“We mated, Deanna. You know that, right?”
She gave a coarse laugh, and pretended not to understand. “Well sure. But here in the human world we call it a one night stand.” She dodged around him and picked up her clothes on the way to the bedroom.
“Werewolves don’t have one night stands with each other, and especially not an alpha. You should know that if you were raised in a pack.” He followed her, still naked and amazingly beautiful. Morning light came through the window above the bed, bright and sunny, the sky above the treetops as blue as she had ever seen it. She chewed her cheek.
She knew he was right. She could feel his pack now on the edges of her awareness—and the only way she would have been able to do that was if she had joined them. No! I don’t want this. She pushed the awareness away.
“Deanna.” He stalked towards her even as she yanked up her panties. She glared, tears coming to her eyes though she didn’t know why she was crying.
“I’m not joining your pack. And I’m not your mate. We just had sex. That’s all.”
He stopped a foot from her, and she hated how he aroused her despite her complete satisfaction only moments ago. She hated, too, how she could feel his magnetism and his power, and especially how it calmed her panicky edges. She grinded her teeth.
“Deanna. You are my mate. You can’t sever that tie. We just exchanged blood.” He reached out for her, but she shrugged away.
She tugged on her clothes, ignoring how raw and warm the junction between her legs was. “You can end it. Force me from the pack. I’m leaving. The bloodsucker will follow me, and none of your people will get hurt.”
She grabbed up her bag and fled. She was running faster from him than she had run from the killing vampire, but she refused to think about that.
In the family room, the pack was waiting for her. They surged around her and surrounded her in their welcome. They hugged her, sniffed her, and passed her from one to another. It wasn’t sexual, this touching, but just pack business. She was a new member of their family, and werewolves this close to the moon were particularly touchy. Hands ran down her back and emotions embraced her, flowing from the pack to her as their arms enfolded her. She knew their names now, without being introduced. Richard. Stan. Kile. Jessie. And Margy. Margy was crying happy tears.
The pack. My pack.
For just a few minutes she fell into the familiar joy—a happiness she had thought lost to her forever. She was whole for the first time in three years.
But she knew how the sundering would rip her apart.
She couldn’t risk it. She wouldn’t live through yet another exile, better to never join than to be sent away. The door was open, letting in the late morning air, a warm day, and a high summer sun already kissing the pine-scented breeze with heat. She ignored the voices calling after her, the hands pulling her back, and pushed out into the yard.
The sunlight blinded her for a moment, but she ran forward anyway, letting her other senses guide her. The gravel parking lot crunched under her feet, and she found the Mercedes where it had been the n
ight before, but it was no longer trapped. The metal was warm to the touch. She fumbled with the keys from her duffle bag and the car beeped as she unlocked the doors.
“Deanna!” Creed jogged after her, his uniform shirt still unbuttoned around a T-shirt but his gun belt and radio attached. “Stop,” he ordered, eyes flaring.
She hesitated, but she fought past the compulsion to obey and threw herself onto the front seat. Yanking the door closed with one hand, she turned the key with the other. He could have easily broken the window, or even ripped off the door, but he just knocked on the glass.
“Deanna, please. Listen to me.”
She trembled, fighting the temptation to submit. Obey. This was why she hadn’t wanted to mate with an alpha. Why had she done it? Her body had taken control and left her head on autopilot. The tears on her face dripped off her chin, and fell to her lap. No, if she didn’t go now, his pack members would die, and he wouldn’t forgive her. She wouldn’t forgive herself, and she couldn’t survive another exile. Better to go first.
The car jerked ahead and she left him standing in his yard, gazing after her.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jackson raced after her, gripping his steering wheel while the trees on either side of the two-lane highway blurred into walls of green. With a touch to a switch on his control panel, he turned on the lights above his roll bar. Red and blue flashers were a symbol hard to ignore. He drove up close to her bumper and waited for her to slow down. He trusted his reflexes in case she decided to brake suddenly, and he wouldn’t put it past her—the girl was nuts. Sexy, stubborn, and willful, too. Her intelligent, caring eyes might have seen into his soul, but she was still a piece of work. He wanted to shake her and kiss her at the same time. Damn his wolf for choosing her as his mate. His hands clenched harder on the wheel, until he felt the metal give. Damn it. Now he’d dented his steering wheel, as if that would be easy to explain.
The Alpha Page 3