Collared By The Warrior

by Daniella Wright

  “Hello?”

  “Hi…Michael,” I said, deciding to be brave and speak to him familiarly.

  “Jennifer. How is she?”

  “She’s stable. In a medically-induced coma, so we won’t know how her brain is until she wakes up.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s good news. Not great. But, considering…” he trailed off.

  “How’s Mary?”

  “Concerned about you. But she’s keeping Soraya busy.”

  “You should read to her. We’re in the middle of the fifth Harry Potter book.”

  “I’ll let Soraya know.”

  “No,” I said, “You should do it. She’s always talking about how you used to spend time with her. She would love it if you read to her.”

  “Oh,” he said, sounding surprised. “Okay. I think I will.”

  “Good,” I said, smiling at the thought of them reading together. “Well, I should get going. Just wanted to let you know that I got here in one piece.”

  “Thank you for letting me know,” he said, his voice still sounding tentative.

  “It’s okay, Michael,” I said. “I don’t understand, but it’s okay.”

  “Thank you,” he replied, exhaling.

  Julie woke up on the third day. She was fine. My siblings and I had a small reunion of sorts, all three of us crowding around Julie’s hospital bed. It took two weeks for her to heal enough to leave the hospital, and I went with her, back to the apartment that I had set up for her using my funds from my nanny job. I sat on the couch, exhausted from maneuvering her wheelchair through the tiny elevator. She rolled over to me.

  “I’ve hired a home-health nurse,” she said.

  “That’s enterprising of you,” I replied sarcastically. “With whose money?”

  “Yours,” she smiled sweetly. That was the thing about Julie—she was definitely the spoiled youngest. “You need to go back to them.”

  “Excuse you?”

  “I heard you talking to him, like, every day,” she said pointedly. “It’s obvious that you care about him. You talk about Mary like she’s an absolute angel.”

  “But what about you?”

  “With your salary, we can afford the nurse,” she said. “You have to go back.” I smiled at her. Of course she had listened to my phone conversations with Michael. I had spoken to him every day, the conversations stretching on longer and longer as my absence progressed. He had asked, every day, at the end of the conversation if I was coming back to him.

  “I guess I have a call to make.” She rolled her eyes, then rolled away in her wheelchair.

  “Hello?” Michael answered on the first ring.

  “I’m coming back,” I said.

  “She’s coming back,” he yelled, and I could hear Mary in the background, her tiny voice celebrating. “When?” He was speaking to me.

  “As soon as I can get a flight,” I replied.

  “I can set up a private jet for you,” he offered. “I’ll have a car service pick you up in the morning.”

  “Okay. Then I can drive the car that I took from Chatsworth back to the house. It is still at the airport, right?”

  “Should be,” Michael replied.

  We spoke for a little longer, happily looking forward to the next day. Speaking to him for the past two weeks, I had realized how truly I cared for him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I was feeling antsy—I had texted Michael when I had gotten on the private jet that I would get in at two, but we hadn’t taken off until late. It was now 5:30 PM, and we were just taxiing on the runway, making our arrival at the tiny airport in western New York State. I jiggled my foot nervously. Michael would have already gone into his strange chamber by now, unless…he would have waited for me, right?

  When the plane finished taxiing and I finally had a signal on my cell, I sent him a message.

  Plane was delayed. Finally got in.

  The flight attendant handed me my luggage, and thanking her, I walked down the staircase and onto the tarmac. The airport really was tiny—I walked from the tarmac to the parking lot in under ten minutes, placing my phone in the glove compartment. I was a safe driver—never leaving out any distractions, like my phone.

  I was driving back in the Camaro, driving along the back roads to get to Chatsworth. I took the drive through Ashford without stopping. I didn’t want to risk running into Damien. I wondered how he knew Michael, and why their relationship, if it could be called that, was so strained. My thoughts drifted toward Michael, the man who seemed to have won my heart entirely.

  What I couldn’t understand or let slide was the cage…and why he seemed to have so many injuries. Was he hurting himself for some reason? Was it a cry for help? I needed to get him to open up to me. If we were going to be together—which is what he seemed to want, then he was going to have to tell me everything. I was willing to give him time, but he was going to have to explain everything down to the last detail.

  I watched as the sun began to set behind the trees that covered most of this area of New York state. The woods looked black against the vibrant oranges and pinks of the sunset. I remembered my first impression of these woods—like the ones from Snow White, threatening and personified, trying to ensnare me. Now, I felt like I was driving home. As it grew dark, I switched my high beams on. I knew that deer were everywhere in this area, so I didn’t want to accidentally hit any.

  Regardless, I barely had any time to hit the brakes when something jumped in front of the car. I couldn’t tell what it was, but it was huge; a giant mass, crouching in the road. I swerved to miss it, causing the car to spin, crashing sideways into a tree on the side of the road.

  I hyperventilated, inhaling and exhaling rapidly, trying to calm myself. Glass from the driver’s side window had cut me on the side of my face, and I had contact injuries from my seatbelt. Something heavy landed on top of the car, denting the ceiling inward, and I screamed.

  I froze in fear as I realized that it was walking on top of the car. I looked around me for something that I could use as a weapon. The front window shattered, and I found myself facing an enormous wolf, its hand-like claws reaching for me. It snarled, saliva dripping from its jaws. I tried to duck away from its grip, but I had nowhere to go since I was trapped in the smashed Camaro.

  I thought about my life, so far. I thought about my family, even my mother, with fondness. I thought of Mary, and I thought of Michael—my second family. Just then, another wolf charged the first, knocking it off of the car in a roiling mass of limbs, teeth, and claws.

  I exhaled, getting myself together. I needed to act immediately. I tried the car—it was dead, broken in the crash. Hoping that the wolves were distracted, I unbuckled my seatbelt, crawling through the passenger side door, landing on the ground on my knees. I got up quickly, sprinting. Adrenaline was coursing through my veins, and I felt like I was on fire.

  I had gotten less than ten feet from the car when one of the wolves tore out the throat of the other. I turned when I heard the one whimper, and saw a stream of red and one wolf standing over the other, gore dripping from its mouth. My stomach dropped in fear as it looked in my direction. I began to run, faster, as the wolf bore down upon me. It reached me, and it moved its head, nuzzling my arm. I stopped, stunned. I looked at it—it stood on two hind feet, like a man. It had midnight-black fur, and ice-blue eyes.

  “You want me to come with you?” I asked in shock. The man-wolf nodded, and began to walk along the road. I followed, and it waited a few feet ahead for me to catch up. We walked in silence through the night. I was unsure of what to do. I needed to thank this…being for saving my life. We were in sight of Chatsworth House when the sun began to rise. The wolf paused, beginning to shift, and before I knew it, Michael stood before me, bleeding from various injuries inflicted by the other wolf-man. He looked at me warily, but I ran to him, wrapping my arms around him. I stood on my tiptoes, kissing him passionately.

  “Mine?” he asked.

  “Yours,” I replied.
He smiled broadly, for the first time. He picked me up off of my feet, and carried me towards Chatsworth House.

  Epilogue

  Placing me on the bed, he began to run kisses down my neck, unbuttoning the blood-splattered blouse that I had been wearing. I took his face between my hands, bringing him back to my mouth, kissing him deeply. I sat up, helping him to remove my shirt. I reached forward, cupping him in the palm of my hand and feeling him stiffen. He inhaled sharply, taking my bra and ripping it, before throwing it aside. I laughed huskily as he did the same to my pants—I should have known my clothing wouldn’t survive sex with a werewolf.

  He looked at me, running his hands along my sides, and goosebumps rose along my skin. I leaned back into the bed, arching my back, and letting him slide my panties off. I could feel myself responding to him as he cupped my mound, feeling the wetness of my desire for him as he slowly entered me.

  I moaned as he began to pump, rotating his hips so that he was hitting against my most sensitive parts. He placed a large hand on my stomach, and ran the flat of his palm upwards. I felt myself building—it was kinetic.

  He began to pump harder, and I felt myself coming undone in waves, crying out as we reached crisis together.

  Michael held me tightly in his arms, our bodies entwined beneath the sheets. I lay with my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat beneath my ear.

  “I was bitten three years ago,” he said, “by a werewolf who disappeared from the area shortly after. He either returned every few years, or was able to go dormant. I only knew because he would commit carnage that I would have to worry I would be hunted for. I couldn’t figure out who he was or why his pattern was so strange. I believed that he was either a migrant worker, or wealthy enough to travel often. It wasn’t until you introduced Damien to me that I figured anything out.”

  “His job as a travel blogger would certainly explain the disappearances.”

  “It did. That and the fact that he told me what he did. Evidently, ruining the life of a billionaire was a comfort to him.”

  “So the cage was to keep you from hurting people?”

  “Yeah. First Mary, and then you. Soraya trained with firearms after I was bitten, and so was able to take care of herself. I’m learning control, but only very slowly.”

  “What about last night?”

  “When I knew that you would be getting back after dark, I knew Damien would be out. I had to protect you.”

  “Aw,” I said. He held my chin between his thumb and forefinger, and looked me in the eye.

  “I fought my feelings, to protect you from me, but you are…my mate,” he said. “I’m part wolf, so that’s as romantic as it gets.”

  “Pretty romantic,” I replied, kissing him. “I like that you’re part wolf.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Yes. I’m a dog person, you know.”

  “Lucky me.” He was grinning, though.

  ~*~

  THE END

  If you enjoyed my book, please consider leaving a review, even if it's only a line or two; it would mean the world to me :)

  Vamp’s Captive

  ~ Bonus Story ~

  An Erotic First-Time Vampire Romance

  “I’m letting you get away with it for now. We’ll properly discuss your punishment later.” He retorts. I smile knowingly, kissing the tip of his nose. I consider making a snide remark regarding the punishment I had yet to receive for destroying his irreplaceable furniture, but I find myself getting lost in his eyes again instead…”

  (…)

  “You shouldn’t apologize for changing me. I won’t accept that apology. Being changed is perhaps the greatest thing to ever happen in my life, because it brought me to you.”

  * * *

  All around me, the club pulses as if it is alive, throbbing with a bassline heartbeat. My body moves of its own accord, each thump of the music sending a feeling of pure elation rushing through my body. For those wondering, my name is Janine Rigby. I go to one of the best colleges in the locale, something I’m proud of but try not to be too boastful about. My days are filled with club meetings, hours of classes, and overall exhaustion. However, I don’t let the weariness of the day ruin my one escape, my nightly hours at the busiest nightclub in town: The Ivory Fang. Though the name brings to mind a rather quirky facility, the Ivory is more or less your typical nightclub. A surplus of my fellow students rush here as soon as the doors open, having our share of drinks and good times. It’s an escape for me, though I’m certain you’re wondering what exactly I need an escape from. Truth be told, the life I lead is something of a mask. I keep myself busy, as not to allow myself to give in to the somewhat darker thoughts that linger on the fringes of my mind. Though no one might expect it, I actually harbor a somewhat deep fear of being alone. That may sound silly, but I don’t mean the brief moments of solitude I get in my dorm room after classes. I mean the much deeper, all encompassing loneliness that one feels when they can not find their soulmate. I’m a romantic at heart, I suppose, but I can’t help but hope that someday I find the deep and meaningful relationship that people like my parents share. I know I’m young, only twenty two years old to be precise, but I can’t help as if feeling I am somehow stunted. As if I am missing some bigger piece of my life, in not having a meaningful relationship by now.

  My friends accompanied me here tonight, likely in an attempt to distract me from my studies. It’s a kind effort, but it’s not my studies I need a distraction from. If anything, they’re one of the few things keeping me sane. All the same, I’m more than willing to accept free drinks if they’re offered. Who am I to turn down such kindness from a friend? Heh. Speaking off… I approach the bar as one of my friends flags me down, a devious look in her eye. I quirk a curious brow, knowing that she is no doubt up to no good.

  “Janine, Bethany thinks she can outdo you on shots. You’re not going to let her slam on you like that, are you girl?” Crissy smiles, and Bethany shoots me a sly look from the opposite end of the bar. I can’t help quirking my lips in a smile, looking at the plethora of shot glasses spread before my blonde haired friend. Though on most nights, I avoid drinking in excess, something about the challenge lights a fire in my gut. I rub my chin thoughtfully, meandering over to Beth’s end of the bar and resting my hip against the stool beside her.

  “Oh, Beth… you always have been a kidder. You really think you can outdrink me? I’m essentially royalty here at the Ivory.” I say in a faux snooty voice, and try to swallow my laughter as Bethany laughs in response. I trace my fingertip around the brim of one of the shot glasses, considering the drinks laid out before us.

  “Well, I think it is due time that someone dethrone you.” She ripostes in an equally snooty tone. We share a smile, and I make a point to properly seat myself on the bar stool beside her. Crissy steps towards us, laying out the rules of engagement. I zone out, as this is little more than child’s play for me. My eyes are drawn towards the exit of the club, where a pale man with platinum blonde hair and dark eyes seems to be watching my every move. I narrow my eyes in his direction, and he seems to realize I’ve noticed him, averting his eyes swiftly.

  “Three, two, one… Drink!” Crissy announces, and I am pulled from my reverie by Bethany accidentally clanging together two glasses. I consider her from the corner of my eye before swiftly taking my first shot. Then my second. Followed by my third. This goes on for several moments, with Bethany and I tossing back shots as the rest of our group looks on. Their loud cheering rings in either of my ears, and when I toss back the final shot, Bethany looks as if she is ready to spill her dinner.

  “A bit green about the gills, aren’t you?” I say slyly, and she looks as if she will retort, only to be cut short by a heaving gag. She covers her mouth with her hand, bolting to the bathroom. The remainder of my friends and I share a laugh, and I stand from the bar stool. It suits me just as well that no one know how much the room is spinning for me right now. I grip the bar counter for a moment, looking from
my laughing friends to the writhing bodies on the dance floor. The beat of the club resonates within me again, and I wave wordlessly to my friends before slipping back among the other dancers. They part with ease, accepting me amongst them as if they too know that this is where I belong. Among the dozens of people, among the bumping and grinding, among the sheer body heat that resonates between all of us. I glance up, only to meet eyes with the same man who had considered me mere moments before. He doesn’t move with the same ease as the rest of us, but I can’t help but feel drawn towards him. He offers me a tight-lipped smile, and perhaps because of the alcohol flooding my system, I feel inclined to put on a bit of a show for the poor guy. He sticks out like a sore thumb in this place, and though I can’t say I’ve ever known the awkwardness he seems to be feeling, I pride myself a smidge kinder than others in the crowd. I lock eyes with the man, taking note of the dark shade of his eyes. The irises are so dark they are nearly black, yet shine with a fiery that seems to blaze brighter as I move my body specifically for his eyes. He keeps his distance, even as I attempt to draw him in with my gaze. I bite my lip, swinging my hips from side to side, and I can’t help but be surprised at the lack of blush on his pale skin. He simply averts his eyes, drawing them to an aged looking timepiece on his wrist. Feeling perhaps unnecessarily offended at how easily my sumptuous dance moves are cast aside, I turn my back on him, allowing myself to merge with the bodies on the dance floor once more. Time seems to fade into nothingness, and I’m vaguely aware that I’m perhaps a little too drunk. However, I simply close my eyes and allow my body to move to the steady thump of the bass.