Wild Beast Mate (Beast Mates Book 2)

by Milana Jacks

  “Hello,” a man’s voice boomed through the House. “Don’t make me search you out,” he said and threw his head back and laughed. He’d hacked into the House’s voice commands. Once the door unlocked, he’d walk inside. I was all of one hundred and ten pounds wet to his well over two hundred. He’d break me and then take me. What would they do with Rey? A thought occurred to me as I contemplated my fate.

  I couldn’t be bred.

  Rey carried beasts. Not just any beasts, but Alpha Beast’s offspring.

  Men of Earth didn’t want beasts’ offspring. They’d come here for the babies.

  A heavy weight settled in my gut. It was doubt. Doubt I could protect her and myself against those who were stronger, bigger than us.

  The front door clicked. The back door stayed closed.

  The man at the front barged inside and swung a fist at me. I ducked and swung my ax, tried to catch his middle. He skipped, then kicked my legs out from under me. I fell back, hitting my head against the wall. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me forward, then flung me across the kitchen floor. My ax flew out of my hand as my back hit the fridge. I groaned at the pain, held a hand over my back.

  Enraged, his nostrils flaring, blood gushing out of his hand, he fisted his other hand and advanced, but the gun he carried was still tucked against his side. I guessed he’d rather beat me to death before he passed out from blood loss. Maybe it would give him perverse pleasure. Guns were quick.

  I scrambled up and swayed on my feet. Two quick steps, and I grabbed a knife. This one, unlike the ax, was long and thin.

  He sneered at the sight of the weapon. “They said you’d resist.”

  “They who?”

  “Your parents. Your momma said to go easy on you, before I pushed them down the rabbit hole.”

  Men of Earth had killed my parents. It meant Vice and Jamie didn’t, but I couldn’t think about anything else besides the madman in the house. “You did me a favor. When you meet them in Hell, give them my message.” I flipped up my middle finger.

  With a growl, he lunged. I kicked a chair in his way, making him trip and fall over it. Then I swung my arm down. I jabbed that sucker in his back with all the strength I could muster. The man’s arms flailed, trying to get the knife out.

  The metal over the windows ascended.

  Shit! The back door was next, and the house would open. I hoped nobody else planned to visit. I twisted the knife for good measure, then picked up the ax and ran upstairs.

  I slammed the bedroom door closed behind me. Rey searched the closet, presumably for a weapon. “Rey,” I whispered. “Help me push the bed against the door.”

  When she came out of the walk-in closet, she looked better, no longer as pale as before. We rounded the bed and knelt, then strained against the frame. It moved an inch. I twisted around and pushed with my legs and my back against the heavy thing. She helped, and finally, we got it to block the door.

  Rey crawled back into the closet, and I followed. Inside, she leaned against the far wall and showed me a gun. “I found this.”

  A revolver with one of those circular things on it. It looked ancient, way before the Nuclear War. I knew this because people at the community decorated the sanctuary with ancient finds. I hoped it still worked. “Ever shot at someone?” I asked. I wanted my poison darts back. Around the communities, we used them for hunting food.

  “No.” She handed me the gun.

  I weighed the thing in my hand. “Me either. Do you know shit about guns?”

  “A little.”

  “That’s more than me,” I said. “What do I do?”

  “Aim and shoot.”

  “Ha-ha. How do I open it?”

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  “I thought you knew shit.” I shook the gun, and the circular thing popped open. Two bullets. Enough. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. They’re coming. One may be down, but I’m not sure. If they get into the room, they can’t both fit through the small closet door, so it’s one guy at a time. We got two bullets. I’m gonna stand by the door—”

  “Where? By the jeans or the coats on the right?” She pointed.

  “Jeans on your left. That’s where I’ll be.”

  “And?”

  “The guys are about the same size, say five eleven. The head is small but the chest is wide. Shoot at the chest.” I put a gun into her hand.

  She snatched her hand away as if I’d burned her. “I could shoot you, Dewlyn. Don’t give it to me.”

  I put the gun over her lap. “They won’t spare Jamie’s babies. They got a woman in white who does this shit. They’ll rip them to pieces.”

  Rey gripped the gun with shaking hands. I steadied her hands and aimed upper-midway of the door, where I hoped the guy’s chest would appear. “You got this, Rey.”

  She nodded, her eyes wide and blinking repeatedly.

  I assumed my position by the door and tried to listen past the House’s speakers. When the House broke, the program spoke scrambled English I barely understood. Not that it mattered since it seemed to be stuck on the weather reports. They broke the House’s system, which meant these Men of Earth weren’t the idle threat both Jamie and Vice had thought they’d be.

  We waited.

  And waited.

  Cold sweat soaked my T-shirt. Millions of images ran through my head as if it’d be the last day of my life. I didn’t want to die. If I made it out of here, what would I do differently? I promised myself I’d stop and think. I wouldn’t trust anyone I didn’t know. While reflecting, I wished for a few things too. I wished I was back at my community, trying to fix my Kickster when Vice had walked in. I wished I broke down into tears like every other girl about to be sold and taken away from the only home she’d ever known. If I weren’t so eager for a better life, the woman in the white coat wouldn’t have come. I would have drunk the crap tea. Vice and I would have lived happily ever after.

  I wished I was different, not so outspoken, not so…me.

  “You’re quiet,” Rey whispered. “It’s not like they don’t know we’re here.”

  “Do me a favor. Tell Vice I don’t hate him. I never really hated him.”

  Rey paled again. “You think they’ll get us.” I didn’t respond, so she continued. “Don’t break down on me. You jump from buildings. If you can do that, you can do anything. Right?”

  “Right. Right, okay. I fear nothing.” I bounced on my toes. “I’m not gonna break down. I will chop him up. Like this.” I swung my ax a couple of times.

  Rey smiled. “Like that?”

  “Yeah, like that. Then we’re gonna fill your fridge,” I joked. “For the guys, you know.”

  Rey swallowed. “Or not?”

  “Or not.”

  The house shook, and we screamed.

  A man burst through the window. In a split second, he’d crossed the room and stood at the closet door. He was covered in dirt. I could barely see his face. Then I recognized the pale red in his eyes. I opened my mouth.

  Rey fired.

  Vice’s body jerked back.

  Instead of a scream, my mouth gaped, and a whine escaped my throat. I couldn’t form words. I couldn’t move.

  Vice grunted, then looked down at the hole in his chest. “Rey,” he said. “Put the gun down.”

  Rey dropped the gun and covered her mouth, realizing she’d shot Vice.

  I whimpered, still holding my ax.

  Vice took inventory of me from head to toe, then peeled my fingers off the ax’s handle. He threw it on the floor and took my face between his warm palms. “Everything’s gonna be fine,” he told me, and the icy pale pink of his eyes comforted me. Rey asked about Jamie, but Vice didn’t answer, and that couldn’t be “fine,” but I believed him anyway.

  “There’s a hole in your chest,” I told him and put my hand over it to stop the bleeding. “Are you gonna be fine?”

  “Where are they?”

  “They’re downstairs,” I said.

  Chapt
er Twelve

  Vice

  They moved me from my ship’s med bay and into my quarters. It’d been ten days since Rey had shot me in the chest. Missed my heart by an inch. They patched me up and released me the next day. But the first night in the med bay, I fell asleep and awoke with Dewlyn curled up next to me. I didn’t move until the morning when she left for breakfast, then threatened half my staff with bodily harm if they said I was “fine.”

  After Dewlyn returned from breakfast, she fussed over me, and so for the next six days, I feigned severe injuries and various side effects such as coma. I feigned coma, waking up only when I felt her move away. It worked on two fronts. One, Dewlyn didn’t leave my side, and two, she talked to me when she thought I was comatose. Dick moves on my part. However, she told me about Men of Earth, riggers, pairs in the shelter, their names, a safe house somewhere in Texas, and Torrent’s runaway pair.

  I hadn’t even known he’d found a pair. I didn’t know if he’d bought her because he wanted a warm body in his bed or if he’d mated her. He’d gone after her alone, didn’t even file papers. I put a mental note to check how many more of us had kidnapped women instead of filing for the Pairing.

  When I felt “better,” meaning I simply got bored resting in my idle state, Dewlyn fed me chicken soup. Now I sat in my recliner and watched Beast City from my ship. Dewlyn commanded the shutters, and they slid open wider, so the entire wall was an observatory.

  Stars twinkled in the night. The City slept. Up here, Jamie held military strategy sessions. He might war with the humans; he only needed an excuse. I should definitely get off my ass and join him before he struck. And I would, just not now.

  Dewlyn put the soup and a med gun on the side table next to her fiction book, a fairy tale called Rapunzel. I’d have to read it now and look for the Prince Charming character in there. Her hair tickled over my stomach as she found a comfortable place on my lap. A frown marred her pixie face, and she picked up the med gun. She put the gun over my gunshot wound. It would be the last of the meds, a serum shot designed to prevent scar tissue. “Stab it in there, Dewlyn.”

  “I hate guns.”

  “Do it.” Dewlyn surprised me. Not only had she stayed with me for ten days, she’d made me soup. Ten days. Me and Dewlyn, and she tended to me the way a mate should tend to a wounded beast male. And for ten nights, she curled up beside me and watched me as if I’d slip away if she closed her eyes. I winced at the needle sting as if she’d stabbed me with a knife. Really, I didn’t feel a thing.

  Feeling bad, she pecked my forehead.

  I’d have to get shot more often.

  Dewlyn put the med gun down, then threaded her fingers though my hair and told me it would be okay. Inwardly, my honor died of shame. She picked up the soup, and I prepared my stomach for her soup. Namely, I swallowed hard, not thinking about the taste. Dewlyn didn’t suffer false modesty, she really couldn’t cook, and yesterday, I yummed and hummed and praised the soup she made for me.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Meh,” I lied.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “No, no. Not at all.”

  “Rey made chicken soup.”

  “Starving.”

  She poked my stomach with her finger. “I knew it.” She dug into the bowl with a spoon, but I caught her wrist. “Maybe later.”

  Her eyes locked with mine while I put the bowl away, then found the strings on her robe and untied them. The robe opened, and I spread it out, then slid it off her shoulders. My fingers traced down from her shoulders, over the top of her small tit and her nipple, which budded under my touch. Dewlyn bent and kissed me. I grabbed the back of her neck but kissed her back gently. I snuck my tongue inside her mouth, where, for once in our lives, she let me lead, didn’t battle me, didn’t fight me. She followed my tongue with her small one and moaned when I cupped her tit and rolled her nipple between my fingers. Already hard and ready, my dick pushed against her thigh. I’d fuck her senseless, and it would last all of five minutes.

  So, I lifted her up.

  She found her balance on the chair rests, and when I sat up a bit and leaned my head against the back, she smiled down at me, her hair curtaining her pretty face. She bent at the knees, and her pretty little pussy lips teased mine. “What do you say?” I asked.

  “Please, my Lord Almighty Vice, make my pussy purr.”

  I swiped my tongue over her slit. Mmmmm. I reached past my pajama bottoms and groaned as I fisted my dick. I thumbed my piercing and sucked on her clit at the same time.

  Dewlyn moaned, pressing her pussy down on my mouth a bit harder. I hadn’t shaved since yesterday, so I nudged my rough chin against her opening. She nestled over it and squirmed, then reached for my hair. I caught her wrist, and she let me hold both her wrists at the small of her back. She’d have to balance on her knees. Ride my mouth like she rode her skater.

  And she did.

  Her pussy moved over my tongue. Sometimes I flicked her bud, but most times I fucked her with it, and when her moans grew louder, when she moved faster, seeking her release, I lowered her back on my lap. She tried to free her hands, but I ignored her, locked eyes with hers as I pushed my bottoms down some more. I lifted her again, set my dick at her entrance, and let her ease herself on me while I thumbed over her clit.

  With my hand still holding her wrists, she balanced on the tip, teasing me.

  I intended to have a romantic, sweet reunion, but Dewlyn teased and teased, her pussy soft and moist against my hard tip. “Fuck it, Dewlyn,” I warned. I pushed up a little, and my tip entered her wetness.

  She arched her back and inched down and down, and I watched her pussy swallow me whole. I grabbed her throat, found the dents on the side, and pressed. Red colored her cheeks and her muscles relaxed, making her pussy flutter around me. I held her breath in my hand as she moved on top of me, releasing her throat only enough so she could catch some air. Then I’d press again, and each time I did, Dewlyn would sigh in pleasure.

  I didn’t hide mine either. There was something innately beautiful and primal about having her life under my control. It spoke of trust. She knew I wouldn’t hurt her, abuse her trusting nature. She’d always known that but kept her guard up just in case. Now as her guard was down, I finally met my mate. She was lovely, fierce, and loyal. Absolutely loyal. She might be a bit on the wild side, but if she weren’t, my life would be boring. Life with Dewlyn would never bore me.

  She bounced on my dick, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Vice,” she said. “You’re so big.”

  “I know, baby.” I released her wrists and palmed her ass. I spanked it. Once, twice, every time she came up. Dewlyn didn’t flinch, didn’t protest, and I thought for sure she was in love with having my dick inside her. Such was Dewlyn. Once I gave her a taste of the unknown, if she liked it, she wanted it all the time. So I’d make sure she liked it every time.

  I helped her, pushed my hips up so she’d grind her clit over my groin, rub that little place and get herself off while I held her up by her throat.

  She gripped my forearm with both hands and bounced faster. I gritted my teeth. Her pussy felt like it would shatter my dick, the little thing was so tight. Her blunt nails dug into my arm, and I just wanted her flipped over and mounted.

  A growl ripped my throat.

  “Wanna tear me up, don’t you? Admit that shit.” She choked when I squeezed, but managed to say, “I love when your eyes brighten. It’s such a turn-on. I love when you take over, when you’re rough and kind, and when you left me the house, fixed the Kickster, and I’m not sorry we met.”

  I tugged her to me and attacked her mouth, pumping my hips from below so when she came, she’d scream only for me. Her pussy squeezed my dick, and I let go of her neck. Her arousal flooded, and I unloaded inside her.

  I didn’t let go of her mouth. I kissed her like I owned her, because I was pretty sure Dewlyn had just told me she loved me. And I’d make this the best day of her life. I tugged her ha
ir back so I could nibble her throat. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to catch air. “You wanna live in the sky?”

  “I don’t know, I was mad back then.”

  “It’s yours.” I kissed her throat and tilted my head.

  She sat back, still impaled on me, and I was still hard. Momentarily, I slid her off.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she said and twisted to pick up her robe.

  “Leave it,” I said. “I want to look at you.”

  She folded her hands on her lap.

  Well, damn. This girl was the Dewlyn I would have gotten that first time I’d failed to bring her home. The girl stripped of defense and anger and hate. And all mine. It only took a bullet in my chest to get us here. I’d shoot myself again for this girl.

  She looked at peace, comfortable, and…whole up here away from her planet. I wanted to lock us up in this room and never leave. I wanted to shelter her like this, naked and sated. I didn’t want the world to touch her ever again, because if anyone asked anything of her, she’d give it to them. Loyal to a fault, she’d go above and beyond like she did at Rey’s house. She risked her life for a damn dog. I still couldn’t believe she’d opened the door to let the dog inside. The man could’ve snapped her little neck and then Rey’s.

  I’d never forget that day. I barely made it out of the well, delivered Jamie up on the ship, and headed home to pack when Jamie’s front door gaped wide open. I didn’t even walk inside. I climbed to the second floor and saw a small hand holding an ax, the body hidden behind the closet wall. I busted the windows, got shot, and did what I did downstairs. The girls heard me gnaw and chew the flesh off his bones but, enraged, I couldn’t stop, if only to spare them the noise. I wanted the dead one in the kitchen too.

  I squeezed my temples with a thumb and a forefinger. Got a headache just thinking about how scared she must’ve been up there.

  “Vice, you okay?” she asked.

  I cleared my throat, then reached into my pocket. I got a key, a thin transparent card. I put it in her palm. “You said you want to live in the sky. Now you do. The key opens every door on this ship. No matter where you are, you can always get out or lock yourself inside.” Okay, so I nursed some paranoia over her safety.