by Helena Ray
Finally, her eyes zeroed in on Kenny’s curly blond hair, and she saw him seated by the fireplace across from Skyler, the guest who had so enthusiastically declared his love for skating.
“I’m glad the two of you found each other,” she said as she weaved her way through the crowd. “I had just wondered if you were still here, Skyler.”
“Well, we did meet that once before,” Skyler said softly, and she could swear she saw the man blush, “but I doubt you remember.”
“No, I think I do remember,” Kenny answered. “Was it after the Champs Camp exhibition? Last year?”
“Yes, yes, it was.” Yup, he was definitely blushing. “I can’t believe that you threw a quad in an exhibition program.”
“Well, you see, at the time, Anya and I were working on my landing technique for…”
She didn’t hear the rest of his words as something stirred within her. Her pussy flared to life, and she could feel her clit pulsing against the lace thong she wore. Only one thing could cause such sudden arousal.
Jack and Clay were close.
“I’ve gotta excuse myself,” she said, turning her attention back to Kenny and Skyler. “How about I meet you guys at the amphitheater in about half an hour? I’ve, um, got something to take care of.”
“Oh, I’ll bet you do,” Kenny said with a wink.
Anya sighed dramatically and made her way back out of the crowded lobby. As she reached the exit, her heartbeat accelerated and her palms began to sweat, not to mention the dampness accumulating on the bare skin between her legs. She had opted for fleece-lined thigh-high tights and a garter belt that evening, and she suddenly worried the evidence of her excitement would drip down her leg.
She burst through the door and, against her better judgment, shucked her high heels and took off on a run toward the newly built parking area for the amphitheater. They were there, she just knew. The throbbing intensified with every stride she took, and she didn’t care if her stockings were ruined. Clay and Jack would probably make certain of that anyway.
Her pulse rushed in her ears, and she veered to the left, taking a shortcut through the woods. Only a few more yards and she’d see them, be with the ones she wanted. She wanted them forever. She approached the tree line and could see the distant outline of Clay’s station wagon. Yes! Almost there!
Without warning, she fell, smacking her chin on the cold ground. Something sharp ground into her back, pinning her to the spot and taking away her ability to breathe. A hand tangled in her hair and pulled her head upward, and French-manicured fingers stuffed a sock in her mouth.
“Don’t you dare try to run, bitch. I will have you.”
Anya knew of only one woman with a cold voice and a proclivity for French manicures, and that woman seemed to harbor a bizarre vendetta against Anya she’d never taken the time to understand.
Yes, it had to be her.
Jocelyn.
Chapter 12
Clay spent the entire day uncomfortably hard. Inside, his lion and his manhood knew that tonight he would claim his mate, mark her for him and his brother forever. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, and memories of her filtered through his every moment. The heaven he found inside her cunt was like nothing he had ever before experienced. All he wanted was to bury his cock inside her again and push in and out, imprinting her soul upon his as he did so.
The painting he was working on was in the back of the car, and he longed to give it to Anya. It was a portrait of her, abstracted, yes, but a vision of his desire all the same. Since he had plunged inside her, the leonine part of his brain was much more readily accessible. In his art, he tried to visually represent the overwhelming sensory input he received as a lion, and after being with Anya, this came so much easier to him.
“We’re here,” Clay said, unnecessarily, breaking the silence of their drive into the Mukuas to the Woodland Den.
Jack grinned over the top of station wagon as they both exited the car, evincing his unbridled excitement about the evening. “We certainly are here. We’re here to claim our mate, Clay. Our mate.”
Even though Clay tried to portray himself as the stoic eldest member of the pack, Jack’s enthusiasm was contagious, and he felt a sloppy grin spread across his face. “Honestly, I didn’t know if it would happen, but goddamn, she’s more than I ever imagined.”
Jack turned serious for a moment, closing the car door and leaning on the roof. “It’s all really starting, isn’t it? The rest of our lives. I thought it started when we became the dominant generation, but it’s Anya. She’s the one that’s done it.”
Clay felt his chest seizing at his brother’s words. He was right. All these milestones had passed, and he was well into his mid thirties, but his life started the day Anya strolled back into the Ninth Time. Overcome with emotion, he could only nod at Jack as he walked away from the car and toward the amphitheater.
Jack looked down at his phone once more and nodded in Clay’s direction.
“I still haven’t heard anything else from her, so I guess she’s meeting us at the amphitheater entrance.”
“I couldn’t give a shit where we meet her, as long as I get to see her damn soon,” Clay said under his breath as they joined the throng of people making their way toward the stage. It had been carved into the base of Adam’s Point, the highest peak in the Mukuas, and was impressive in its scale, especially given its quick construction.
The wind picked up, and although it had warmed in the past week, Savage Valley was still far too cold for an outdoor event such as this. The amphitheater with its dense seating provided the only source of warmth Clay could think of.
Warmth. Warm. Wet. His thoughts strayed to Anya once again, and despite his best efforts, he grew impatient. He and Jack watched as the crowd slowed, most of the concert-goers now seated and waiting for the headliner. Clay couldn’t give a shit, honestly, as long as he had his own personal body warmer melded against him while they played.
The final few latecomers trickled in, and uneasiness settled in Clay’s stomach. This wasn’t like Anya. In the time he’d known her, she always eagerly returned calls and texts, always showed up when she said she would or earlier. Her disappearance didn’t sit right with him.
“Me, neither,” Jack said, apparently mining Clay’s thoughts. “It’s been too long. She would have at least shot a text to us if she was going to keep us waiting.”
“Something’s wrong,” Clay whispered, and when he did, something deep within him told him he was right. Anya was in trouble, and he needed to help her.
“I feel it, too.” Jack turned to him, and he could see the worry in his brother’s eyes. While Clay watched, Jack’s face twisted in horror, and he brought his hand to his head as he doubled over. “She’s screaming,” he gasped as he continued to shake his head. “Ezra…he’s at the top of Adam’s Point, and he’s hearing her.” The words were strangled, but already, Clay could feel his lion tearing at his control.
“We have to shift.” Jack looked up at Clay as he spoke, clearly still haunted by whatever he heard and saw in the other shifter’s mind. “If you’re in lion form, too, we can both find her.”
Clay couldn’t stay in human form a second longer, not when he could shift and he could save his mate. The primal possession took hold, and with a nod to Jack, they both started at a dead run across the parking area to the trees. Once they had secured the cover of darkness, both peeled their clothes from their bodies, and the shifting process began. Clay’s fingertips tingled as his claws burst from beneath his nails, and shivers ran over his skin as it grew long, tan fur. In an instant, he was fully in lion form, ready to find his mate, the one true counterpoint to his leonine soul.
Through the telepathic link he shared with Jack in shifted form, the sounds of Anya’s screams resonated in Clay’s mind now, too. His lion was drawn to the source of that shrieking. He had to stop it. He had to end the pain. He had to make sure that his mate would live and bear his kit
tens. His paws pounded across the earth in rhythm with his brother’s, and soon, her smell filtered through the crisp air.
They had to track her. Had to find her. Finally, her screams split through his own ears, not through Ezra’s thoughts from the other side of the mountain, or from Jack’s, along with the sounds of a man and a woman shouting at each other.
Jack sent him a signal to slow, to approach carefully, as they reached the apex of Adam’s Point. There, on the outlook, his precious mate lay with her wrists and ankles bound, sending a flow of pulsing blood to her wrists and ankles in its struggle to reach her extremities. He had to save her now.
The woman. Some note of recognition rang in his human mind along with a sharp disgust that drew a low growl from his throat. Jack gave him a look that even in lion form he recognized as a warning. He turned his attention back to the scene unfolding.
“Where are your loyalties?” she shouted, and a tall, skinny man with curly brown hair cowered beside her. She held what looked like a pointy, metallic stick with its end sharpened. Weapon. She meant to hurt the man, and she meant to hurt his mate.
“Stay.” The warning came from Jack, a rare verbal command issued in lion form. Clay lingered as she pointed the shiny stick underneath the skinny man’s chin.
“I’m here on a personal mission from Ulysses, and I can only accomplish it, only give him the satisfaction he needs, if I make sure this bitch”—she kicked his mate, and Clay felt the blow echo against his own side—“does exactly what I say.”
The skinny man looked at his mate, Clay’s beautiful, perfect mate, then back at the woman with the twisted face and sharp stick. “That’s not true. Look, Ulysses just wants to buy out the town, and yes, he’s willing to do whatever that takes, but I don’t think he’d stake his reputation on you murdering an innocent woman over the secondhand shop.”
“Oh, like you know what Ulysses would want,” she barked. “Assistant to the Chief Executive Officer, my ass. You’re just another bitch like the rest of them in line to suck his cock.”
The skinny man grabbed the woman’s wrist, effectively pushing away the shiny, pointy stick. “What exactly are you implying?”
“Oh, come off it, Skyler. Everyone knows you’re in love with Ulysses. Although why anyone would want anything to do with that scumbag is beyond me.”
Clay noticed the man cut his eyes to Anya, and her screaming ceased for a moment then started louder again.
“God, what is it, bitch? First you try to take away one of my biggest cash cows, and then you get in the way of my relationship with motherfucking Ulysses C. Norman.”
The woman wrenched her hand free, and as she stormed toward Anya, Clay and Jack both made their way slowly in opposite directions along the edge of the clearing. After a moment, the beautiful brown pools of his mate’s eyes flashed, and he knew that she had seen him. She knew he would rescue her. She knew he would take care of her as long as he could, hunt for her, provide for her. Love her.
“You’re never going to mess with Jocelyn Smythe again, you little—”
Clay sprung, flying over Anya and landing easily on all four paws in front of the woman, and growled low in his throat. A high-pitched, fearful noise sounded from her, and she turned around, only to find Jack on her opposite side. They began circling, closing in on her as they would their prey.
They heard the man take off, running at top speed away from the hill. The woman began panting, and when Clay raised one paw in preparation to swipe at his assailant, she dropped her weapon in shock and followed the other man, waving her arms and screaming.
Feeling the relief that his mate would not be attacked, Clay shifted, his fur and claws receding as he crawled a few feet to his Anya.
“Are you okay?” he whispered over and over as he undid the bonds on her wrists and ankles. She did not say anything in response, only shivered in the cold night air. Jack soon joined him, and as soon as Clay freed Anya, Jack pulled her into his arms.
“We thought we might lose you.” He placed kisses on her cheeks and forehead, and Anya finally came back to life, wrapping one arm around Jack’s neck and holding out the other for Clay. He moved quickly to where his mate sat in his brother’s arms, reaching out to tangle his fingers in her soft brown hair before pulling her face to his for a kiss.
She pulled back a fraction of an inch and ran her hand over his shoulder to rest in the center of his naked chest, and finally, she spoke.
“I love you.”
* * * *
The words came out naturally, the only thing to say in the situation. She still felt shock, still felt the pain of Jocelyn’s stiletto in her back as she yanked Anya’s arms and legs behind her to hogtie her then drag her up the mountain. And she still felt the relief when she heard Skyler’s voice shouting Jocelyn’s name. And she still felt the cold fear that ran through her veins when Jocelyn scraped her metal pick along Skyler’s collarbone, drawing his blood.
But now one feeling overwhelmed all the others. Love. Kenny was right. Even though she’d only spent such a brief period of time with them, she knew she loved Clay and Jack. The whole lion-shifter thing would take some getting used to, but the two of them were worth it. They weren’t like the men she’d known before. No, they were good, and they were honest, and more importantly, they had become a part of her. And the pull she felt to them, the all-consuming need, well, only being with them forever would satisfy that desire.
“I love you, too,” Clay whispered against her lips then pressed another kiss to them. He wrapped both his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap. “God, I love you so much.” She easily curled her legs around him pressing her barely clothed pussy to his naked chest.
“And Jack,” she said as she reached one arm behind her. He quickly came beside her and pressed a kiss on her knuckles. “I love you.”
“And I love you.” Of all Jack’s intoxicating smiles, this was the widest, the most illuminating she had ever seen. He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her face to his, kissing her thoroughly and proving his words. “Anya, I’m so in love with you.”
One of Clay’s hands slid down her back to cup one of her ass cheeks, and she smiled back at him. “You, too, Clay. I’ve been crazy about you for as long as I can remember.”
“We’re together now, darlin’. That’s all that matters.” He squeezed her ass, and her inner muscles contracted in response, reminding her of the purpose of that evening.
“Clay,” she said solemnly, “could you put me on the ground?” His muscles tensed for a moment, and then he set her on the cold, packed earth in front of him. She steadied herself, and the words came out in a rush. “I want you to mate me.”
“You do?” Jack said, crawling toward her. “God, how quickly can we get back to your room?”
“Now.”
Neither Clay nor Jack said a word, but Anya noticed that even in the cold air, both of them sported impressive hard-ons, revealing their true feelings.
“Now. If being kidnapped, hogtied, and nearly shanked has shown me anything, it’s that I want the two of you.” She looked between them. “And I’m not known for being particularly patient.”
“We’ve waited long enough,” Clay said as he surged forward, wrapping one arm underneath her and lowering her to the ground so that he lay on top of her. His hard cock bumped against her tattered dress, and he quickly had it and her shredded stockings and thong removed. She ran a hand down his chest and curled her fist around the base of his cock.
“I want to feel you inside me again,” she said, trying to direct his cock to her pussy.
“Just a moment, darlin’.” He sat up and indicated for Anya to do the same. She looked to Jack questioningly, and he nodded. She sat up, and immediately, Clay’s hands landed on her shoulders.
When they did, her whole world came into sharp focus, and even though they sat on the cold, windy outlook, Anya’s universe contained only her and Clay. His features were in sharp
focus—every graceful line, every tiny indentation of his skin, each of his fine blond strands of hair. Then unexpectedly, she felt little pinpricks of sensation on her shoulders, almost like nails breaking the skin, but she felt no pain. Instead, a warm pleasure oozed out from the punctures, rushing first along her collarbone, then over her chest, tightening her nipples, and then finally down to the pool of liquid between her legs.
Clay spoke, and his deep, husky voice vibrated through his hands, and Anya could swear she felt his words splash against her skin.
“Anastasia Copely,” he began, “I have chosen you as my mate. As such, I will protect you with my entire being, lion and human both. And together, we shall protect the earth on which we live and the beings with which we share it. Do you accept my mating?”
“Yes, I accept your mating.” The words surfaced in Anya’s mind as if they’d always been there, and they flew from her lips with only the slightest bit of will. Yet when they floated through the electrified air between them, she could nearly see the truth of them written in the atmosphere. She accepted Clay with her mind, her body, her soul, and her heart.
He closed the space between them and brushed the softest of kisses over her lips, but with her heightened awareness, the featherlight touch sent fiery-hot bolts of excitement flying throughout her body.
Without warning, Clay removed his hands from her shoulders, and the air around them broke, the vacuum that had held them dissolving into the atmosphere. She swayed, dizzy from the sudden shift, but luckily, Jack moved with swift grace to capture her upper arms in his hands. He smoothed his hands up her arms and around her shoulders, and Anya gasped as his nails broke her skin, and it felt even more pleasurable when she expected the warm feeling to soak through her. The electrified atmosphere snapped back into place, and Anya was more aware than ever of Jack’s classically handsome features and roguish smile. She looked into the sparkling eyes that had captured her heart from the moment she saw them and prepared for him to begin.