Outcast Box Set

by Emilia Hartley

  He scooped the cat form from the ground and spun around. He ran back toward the Vancourt house. She wriggled and protested, kicking against his stomach with her sharp back claws. But, not even her claws could break the thick, protective layer of his fur. That, or she wasn’t trying hard enough.

  Was she only half protesting?

  Behind them, the howls and snarls still danced through the air. The urge to turn and stand his ground was overwhelming, but he held the lynx tight to his chest. Touching her seemed to ground him. The bear knew what was more important. The bear knew what he needed to protect.

  Would they attack the house, he wondered? Were they brazen enough to dare? The brothers would strike them down if any even tried. If they were still there. Gage had disappeared sometime during the pack meeting, unwilling to take part in it as if he was still on the outside. Cohen had stuck around for the meeting, but who knows where he would have gone once it disbanded.

  A form shifted near the side of the stone house. It rose into a familiar shape. It wasn’t quite as tall as Archer, but the width was unmistakable. Gage. He let loose a roar into the sky that shook the trees around them. Archer, too, threw his head back and roared.

  This was bear territory.

  Chapter Twelve

  Joanna paced the parlor of the stone house, of Vancourt house. Her lynx was quiet, complacent with her predicament, while Joanna herself panicked.

  “Am I a hostage?” she snarled. “Are you going to force me to stay here?”

  Archer leaned his back against the door. He was breathing hard, having forced the change too quickly. Gage still sat on the other side of the door. He was a sentinel against the roving coyote shifters.

  “I mean, you’re welcome to go back out there if you want.” Archer’s words didn’t match his tone. It was bitter, as if he expected thanks. He could take the expectation and shove it where the sun didn’t shine.

  She ran her hand through her hair. Several pieces of lynx fur fell free. “This was never in my plans. This can’t happen.”

  “I don’t get it,” Archer said as he pulled away from the door. “What’s so wrong with being protected from those assholes?”

  She spun on him, hair flying through the air. “Without me, my true Pack is helpless. They were safe only because I stayed. If Killian even suspects I’ve betrayed him, he will start hurting them.”

  Archer’s face darkened. “Then, tonight, you’re a hostage.”

  “What the hell? Didn’t you hear me?”

  He snarled. “Of course, I heard you. As long as those idiots think I’m holding you against your will, Killian won’t think you’ve betrayed him. Making him think that will keep your people safe for a little longer. It will keep you safe. Long enough for me to make things right again.”

  Joanna was stunned. No words could come to her. Instead, warmth filled her chest and her eyes began to burn. Why did Archer care so much about her? He was the one who’d turned his back on everyone here. He’d even called love a lie. With how much he detached himself from people, Joanna couldn’t figure out why he wanted to help so much.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Outside, the howls died down and disappeared. It seemed stationing a bear near the door had done the trick.

  He shrugged. “You’re welcome to pick out a bedroom upstairs. None of them should smell like us since we haven’t lived here in a while.”

  “Where are you going to sleep?”

  “The couch, I guess. Why does it matter?”

  Joanna opened her mouth then snapped it shut. She guessed it didn’t actually matter. She wasn’t even sure why she asked until the thought of him sleeping beside her slipped into her mind. She scowled and shoved it away, but the thought wouldn’t budge.

  With a sigh, she turned away from the brooding bear of a man and headed toward the stairs. Before she could climb them and disappear, Archer spoke up again.

  “Before you leave, I want to know one thing.”

  Joanna didn’t say anything, but she didn’t climb the stairs, either. She paused, waiting for him to go on.

  “Is Killian really your mate?” The words came out tight, bound with anger.

  Bile burned the back of her throat. “He’s laid claim on me, but there’s no bond between us. I would kill myself before bonding to him.”

  The confession brought to light, she darted up the stairs. Her heart beat a furious rhythm while her stomach churned. Never before had she said the words out loud, but there they were, brought into the world. She regarded the three doors at the top of the stairs, two on her right and one on her left. She didn’t even look at the one at the end of the hall. It was hard to believe she was sharing a roof with Sampson the Bear, even if he was dying.

  Unable to decide, Joanna heard footsteps at the base of the stairs and quickly ducked into a room. She put her back to the door and struggled to catch her breath. Archer had been wrong. The room she’d chosen was swamped with his scent as if no one else had dared to enter his room in the eight years he’d been gone.

  Sampson let few people into his home, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he hadn’t preserved these rooms in case his sons came back. Did he open the doors just to breathe in their scent and pretend they were home? Did he actually miss his boys?

  Joanna knew there was no leaving. She didn’t even want to leave, and she cursed herself for being weak. There was a sense of safety here, under the roof of the Vancourt house. Perhaps it was bolstered by Archer’s scent, infused in everything around her.

  She lay across the full-sized mattress, not bothering to search for clothing even after she realized she’d been naked during their argument downstairs. Not once had his gaze flicked to her breasts or the V between her legs. As she stared at the dark ceiling, Joanna wondered if she felt safe or if she felt insulted.

  Her bare skin against the soft coverlet, she imagined what his hands might feel like against her skin. Years ago, she imagined they would be soft and tender. The Archer that returned was nothing like the man she’d once met. This man’s hands would be rough. They would take what he wanted and leave her wanting.

  She could feel warmth pooling between her legs, a throbbing ache demanding to be satisfied. Her hands drifted down her body, but they felt nothing like what she wanted. She pulled back, groaning with frustration.

  Her Pack was in danger and here she was, aching for the touch of a man. Joanna wrapped her arms around her ribs and rolled over. The throb dulled, and exhaustion crept forward.

  It didn’t take long for sleep to claim her, whisking her into a rest she hadn’t had in years.

  ***

  Archer stood at the base of the stairs. As soon as he’d caught sight of her, she’d run and hidden. His gut clenched when he realized which room she’d chosen.

  His.

  Archer wanted to climb the stairs and slip into the room. Her smell beckoned him, begged him toward her. But, he held back. It was a mistake, grabbing her like that. He never once thought about her pack. He’d only thought about her and the way Killian held her in the store.

  Joanna’s words cut him in half. She would kill herself before sealing the mating bond with Killian. They’d struck him so hard he’d broken the glass in his hands. Joanna hadn’t stuck around to see him pull the shards from his palm. He hadn’t expected the intensity of his anger. Archer wasn’t used to the level of emotions he felt here.

  Everything around him seemed to cut deep, to dig in and twist the blade. The Pack was falling apart, reduced to animals savage enough to kill an old man on his death bed for power. He’d shown Grover that he meant business and sent him packing before Cohen could send him outside. It was no wonder they hadn’t been able to put a stop to Joanna’s suffering, to the horror her pack had lived through.

  Archer threw himself down onto the old couch. There was a reason no one ever sat on it. The thing nearly dropped him to the floor when he hit it and a spring jabbed him in the ribs. He’s already acquiesced his room to Joanna. As
much as he hated that particular piece of furniture, he wasn’t about to kick her out of his room.

  He laid back, trying to ignore the oppressive spring in his side, hands tucked under his head. Above him, Joanna was settling in. She was his hostage for the night, in name only. He’d declared it to keep both her and her people safe, but it felt nice to know where she was. As long as he knew where she was, he could keep her safe. The urge was overwhelming, but he couldn’t understand where it was coming from.

  Was there some part of him that thought she belonged to him because of the arrangement eight years ago? He growled at himself. She belonged to no one and no one belonged to him. He was his own man. He would fix his mistake by putting Killian down, then he would suffer the consequences.

  His eyes drifted toward the stairs. His death loomed on the horizon, a promise he’d already made and planned to keep. There was no going back, but he couldn’t deny that he wanted to know what Joanna felt like beneath him before his time was up. Was she as feisty in bed as she was in life, or would she writhe and purr for him.

  In the woods, her lynx had been playful. She’d pounced and bit him, always slinking off into the shadows before he could find her. And, he’d liked it. It should have felt like a fly buzzing around his head, but he’d enjoyed the happiness finally emanating from her. It was satisfying in a way he’d never known before.

  With a smile on his lips, sleep arrived and slipped over him. It was fitful, twisting and turning to avoid the loose spring. Splinters of jagged dreams clung to his memory, images and emotions that still writhed inside him. His cock stood erect to remind him of what he’d dreamt about. It also served to remind him of what he could not have. Finally, he gave up and his feet hit the floor before he knew what he was doing. His body drifted toward the stairs.

  She was up there, sleeping in his room. Her naked body slipped into the slivers of his dreams, her round breasts hanging like fruit ready to be plucked. But, no matter how close he came, she’d always been just out of reach. He’d run and fumbled, but hadn’t been able to quell the desire burning inside him.

  Joanna sucked him in. He was reckless around her, his mind caught on her like a fly in a spider’s web. Archer gripped the wall, fighting the urge to climb the stairs and claim the woman like his body demanded of him. The wood groaned beneath his fingers. One foot rose to the first stair. Beneath his hand, splinters crackled into the air. He would know what she felt like before he died, but he would not disturb her sleep.

  The bear growled and shoved him forward. Archer Vancourt had more control than that. Staggering from the effort it took to turn away, he returned to the faulty couch and let himself fall down. Jaw tight, he slid his hand between his legs. His cock was ready and throbbing as he stroked it.

  His mind returned to the feisty woman who stood up to him in the parlor, naked and burning with anger. His hand tightened as he imagined her grip, her soft skin against his cock. Would she stroke him gently? Or, would she seize control and take him hard?

  A musky smell touched his nose and his eyes snapped open. At the top of the stairs was a feminine form. She paused, hand on the wall. Archer didn’t dare move for fear she might duck back into the bedroom. His cock pulsed beneath his hand as he watched her take the first step toward him. She was lithe and silent, the sway of her bare hips capturing his gaze.

  They said nothing as she approached, both afraid to break the spell the night had over them. Darkness permeated the room, but he could see the outline of her hips and her breasts in what little moonlight that came through the window. It cast an ethereal glow across the feline shifter’s body.

  His eyes moved up, along her skin, until it reached her face. Her hair no longer hung in her face. It was pushed behind her ears as she moved to straddle his body. She put her hands on his shoulders, the simple touch burning through him like wildfire. He fought the urge to move, to grip her close and make sure she could never get far from him again. But, he kept his hands where they were. He didn’t so much as twitch in case she startled and ran back upstairs.

  Her fingers tightened on his shoulders as she lowered herself onto him, betraying her own need.

  “Don’t think this means I’m forgiving you,” she whispered into his ear.

  The spell broken, Archer reached to grip her between the legs. She let out a small sound. It began as a whimper and shifted into a purr when his fingers split her folds. Her lips parted and her eyes drifted shut. Archer watched the changes in her face as his fingers made soft circles around her bead of pleasure. He arched around it, never quite hitting it. Her face scrunched up. Her need for release building and building as her fingers dug into his skin.

  Her hips began to rock against his hand. His cock brushed her skin, caressed by her ass. He groaned, loving the feel of her. She was so warm and wet in his hand. Her skin was soft and supple against his cock. His other hand rose to grip the back of her neck. He pulled her down until their mouths crashed together.

  His fingers dipped inside her and he felt her moan die in his mouth. She became butter and melted into him. This. He’d needed this, the woman in his lap and the taste of her in his mouth. His thumb found her bead of pleasure again while his fingers worked inside her.

  She tightened around him, her thighs clenching before she let out a soft moan of satisfaction and collapsed against him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Joanna had never known it to feel like that. Her body lit with sparks, like fireflies in the summer night. It prickled across her skin and tingled in her toes. Her body became boneless in his grip as she struggled to catch her breath.

  Archer felt like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Or, had it simply been that long? Joanna couldn’t remember the last time she’d been put first, or, heck, the last time she’d orgasmed with a man.

  He wasn’t ready to let her go. His hands gripped her hips and rocked her back and forth over his cock. It grew slick with the evidence of her orgasm and slid between her butt cheeks. His eyes drifted closed and his head fell back against the couch. His breath came hard and fast, like the pace of his hands.

  With a feline smile, she laid her hands over his and took over. She caught the rhythm and changed it up, pumping hard before changing it up for long strokes. She teased him the way he’d teased her. When she knew he was close, she pulled back and slowed down. His grip on her skin tightened, but she was made of sturdier stuff than human women. His grip made her core tighten again.

  Joanna knew she was going to have to pack away some of the things she was feeling, but she surrendered herself to it in the moment. She reached to thread her fingers through his tawny colored hair and rocked against him. She laid her claim to him, marked him with her scent with each movement. The lynx wanted to make sure he would never smell like another woman. The bear was theirs and he would come only for them.

  Finally, Joanna picked up her pace. She slammed against him. She held his cock with her body until she felt him spasm beneath her. His hands pulled her into his body as his seed spilled over her skin. It was warm and sticky, but in the moment, she didn’t seem to mind.

  She settled against him, listening to the thunder of his heart while he held her. As she waited for her own heart to settle, she gathered the desire still screaming through her and shoved it away. While what they’d done had felt good, she couldn’t keep him. She couldn’t make a man stay if he saw no reason to lay down roots.

  Joanna pulled herself from her perch atop him, mindful of the mess sliding down her skin. Something crossed his face, a flash that disappeared as quickly as she’d caught it. As much as she wanted to stay and pull it out again, she asked him to point her toward the bathroom.

  She needed to scrub his scent from her skin. Flicking the light switch and filling the small room with artificial light broke the spell the night held over her. She could not go back to her Pack smelling like the man who’d openly challenged Killian the day before. It would be a death sentence for her. She twisted the shower knob and hot wa
ter burst forth.

  As she slipped beneath the spray, her mind backtracked and replayed the events of only moments ago. So, that was what it would have been like, she thought. Her body was sated in a way she didn’t know possible, muscles relaxed beneath the water. His cock hadn’t even been inside her. She might have screamed and woken everyone in the Vancourt house had he entered her.

  She let her head thump against the wall of the shower. The mess of their lovemaking washed down her skin and swirled down the drain. She was sad to see it go, the last of the evidence of what they’d done. Once it was gone, they were never going back. She couldn’t afford to crawl back to him. She had to remind herself he didn’t want her like that; he didn’t want a mate. No matter how badly the lynx begged for him.

  She sighed and pulled her head up. Killian would have questions for her. She would have to convince him that she’d been a hostage, kept against her will. Would he believe it? Or, was he already hurting her Pack?

  So few of them remained. So few, she could count on one hand. They were all banking on her to rise up and defeat Killian’s rule. Her hands fisted in her wet hair. Yet, here she was indulging in carnal desires. It was foolish of her. She should have followed her instincts. She should have run back to Killian and his coyotes.

  The water turned cold, so she turned it off and stepped out. The room was filled with warm steam. It clouded the mirror and window, blotting out her face. She didn’t want to see it anyway. She was disappointed in herself. She’d been selfish, and it was going to cost her. It was going to cost others.

  Joanna had to find her strength. She needed to be strong if she was going to get rid of Killian once and for all. His expiration date was coming and she was going to be the one to make sure of it.

  Her eyes drifted to the window over the bathroom counter. The lynx wasn’t happy with her decision, but it would follow her commands. They had, after all, come to a compromise. The animal had been sated by Archer and, now, Joanna had work to do.