Evans, Gabrielle - From This Moment [The Moonlight Breed 7] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove)

by Gabrielle Evans

  “Move,” he breathed into Cian’s mouth as he wiggled his hips, grinding his bottom against his mate’s thighs.

  Sliding to the edge of the chair, Cian looped one arm around Zavion’s waist, fisting his renewed erection. His other hand cupped the back of Zavion’s knee, lifting his leg toward his chest and opening him to deeper penetration. Then his muscles flexed and his hips rolled, pumping his dick into Zavion’s hole in a slow, sensual tempo.

  His powerful thighs were firm and unyielding like stones beneath Zavion’s rounded globes. Heat poured from Cian’s sculpted body, warming Zavion until perspiration beaded over his flushed skin. Each thrust stretched his inner walls, plunging into his core while Cian mimicked the motion with his tongue, flittering into Zavion’s mouth and then dancing just out of reach.

  The coarse hairs along his jawline added a new level of sensation, and when Cian abandoned the assault on his lips to kiss down the side of his neck, the scrape of his neatly trimmed beard sent shivers racing along Zavion’s spine. Erotic flames of desire and pleasure engulfed him, scorched him, and had him moaning wantonly as he undulated to meet each of his lover’s thrusts.

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  The wooden chair squeaked and clacked against the floor when Cian increased his pace, driving his hips upward as his large fist became a blur over Zavion’s cock. Their mouths crashed together again, hungrier and more desperate than before, muffling the sounds of their pleasure.

  Zavion’s leg was lifted even higher until his knee touched his shoulder, and Cian released his control with a wild abandon that was

  primal, aggressive, and arousing in a way that Zavion couldn’t describe. Currents of electricity buzzed across his skin. His nerve endings sizzled. His heart pounded up into his throat, making it difficult to breathe.

  Every cell in his body felt taut, like a string pulled too tight on a harp. One more stroke, one more kiss, one more deep plunge, and the string snapped, sending Zavion careening into euphoria. Burying his face into the side of Cian’s neck, he cried out as lights flashed behind his eyelids, and his cock erupted once more in what felt like a river of

  semen.

  “Zavion,” Cian murmured into his hair, ending the single word on a guttural groan.

  The arm around Zavion’s waist tightened, the fingers holding his thigh dug into his flesh, and scorching lava filled his depths to the brim.

  “Amazing,” Zavion praised as he fought to control his breathing. He slumped exhaustedly against his mate, unsure if he’d be able to move at all before morning.

  Cian chuckled quietly against his temple. “Oh, darlin’, this is simply intermission.”

  * * * *

  “What’s the plan? Please tell me there’s a plan. It’s been three

  days! I’m probably being poisoned as we speak.” Zavion’s hands

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  went to his throat, and he gave a dramatic heave of his chest. “I can feel it killing me!”

  It wasn’t really funny, but Cian still had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Oh, his fox was a feisty thing. “Calm

  yourself, Zavion. We’ll be gettin’ a report anytime now. Try not to worry so much.”

  “How can I not worry? Maybe something happened. I mean, we should have definitely heard from someone by now.”

  “These things take time,” he tried to explain. “The Enforcers can’t just go stormin’ the castle gates, now can they?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Zavion argued. “There are lives at stake!”

  Considering Zavion’s was one of those lives, Cian understood the concern. He hadn’t been sleeping very well because of his constant

  worry over that very fact. Still, Zavion was taking overreaction to a

  whole new level. “Is anyone sick? Are ya feelin’ rundown?”

  “Well…” Zavion trailed off and crossed his arms over his chest as

  he flopped back on the couch in the common room. “No,” he finally answered with a huff. “I’d like to keep it that way, though, if it’s all the same to you.”

  “You’ll not be usin’ that tone with me, Zavion Dobbs.” He didn’t

  want to be snappy with his mate, but truth be told, he was just as upset

  about the abundance of non-information.

  That, combined with his lack of sleep, was making him short-tempered. It pissed him off immensely that Zavion would think he was anything but fully dedicated to finding a cure for whatever toxins were flooding his lover’s body.

  “I’m here because it’s my job. That’s true enough. If you’re thinkin’ a job is all this is to me, though, you’re not knowin’ me at

  all.”

  Zavion’s eyes rounded, and his lower lip began to tremble as he pulled his knees close to his chest and hugged his arms around his shins. “I’m sorry, Cian.”

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  Damn it all, it just wasn’t fair. Why did the man have to look so heartbroken? It wasn’t as though Cian had even raised his voice. He just didn’t appreciate the assumptions Zavion was making about what he did or didn’t feel.

  Sighing heavily, he crossed the room to ease down on the sofa beside his lover. “All right now.” Wrapping his arms around Zavion, he tucked the smaller man close to his side and petted his silky locks. “I’m sorry I upset ya.”

  Zavion sniffed and burrowed closer. “No, you’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.” He was quiet for a long time before he spoke again in a wavering whisper. “I’m scared, Cian. I don’t want to die.”

  The mere thought of losing the man in his arms made his pulse race with anxiety. He’d been lost, completely and irrevocably captivated, from the moment Zavion had first spoken to him in that musical voice. It had been damn foolish for him to wait so long, and he hadn’t been totally honest about why that was.

  Yes, he’d been confused at first. Part of him had wanted to play things cautiously until he knew which one of the twins gave off that alluring scent. Then there was another part of him that had just been scared out of his ever-loving mind.

  If Zavion could provoke such emotions in him as only a friend, how easy would it be to fall head over feet for the guy if they became something more? When he’d finally gotten one of the brothers alone and realized his instincts had been right all along, there had been no more excuses left for him to hide behind.

  “Do you remember that day it snowed, and you were trying to

  teach me and Zuriel how to build a snow fort?” Zavion asked out of

  the blue.

  “Aye, I remember.” How could he forget? The little brats had failed miserably at building a decent fort, but that hadn’t stopped them from pelting him with snowballs until he was dripping wet and freezing.

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  “And do you recall Raven showing up after sunset and tackling you?”

  “Yes,” Cian answered carefully. He didn’t know where the line of questioning was going, but he had a feeling it wasn’t anywhere good. “The big idiot damn near broke my bloody neck.”

  “I didn’t like it. He was stretched out on top of you, pinning you to the ground, and I wanted to rip every strand of hair out of his scalp.” His head tilted back on his shoulders, and he looked up at Cian with wide, innocent eyes. “Does that make me a bad person?”

  “Raven is an idiot.” Lord, the man was but a fool.

  One day, he’d find his mate, though. One day, Raven would be getting a nice big slice of payback for all the hell he’d given the mated pairs in the coven. Cian really couldn’t wait for that day to come. He’d be the first one in line with a huge, shit-eating grin as he

  watched the vampire flounder.

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “No, it doesn’t make ya a bad person.” If it did, well, Cian was a maniacal bastard, because he probably wouldn’t have been able to show as much self-restraint if their positions had been reversed. “It makes ya right territorial.” He tapped Zavion on the
tip of his nose and winked. “I’ll tell ya a secret, though.”

  “What secret?”

  “I think you’re cute when you’re jealous.” Then he tossed Zavion to his back on the cushions and loomed above him, encouraging his mate’s legs around his waist. “Gotcha.”

  “You cheated,” Zavion accused, but not as though he really cared. His arms encircled Cian’s neck, pulling his head down for a long, lingering kiss.

  Now that he’d caught the shifter—or maybe Zavion had caught him—he had an answer for his earlier question. Falling for the extraordinary man beneath him was easier than breathing.

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  Chapter Seven

  “Bridgemont checks out,” Blaise announced the next evening at yet another meeting—another meeting that was vastly less crowded, with only Blaise, Cole, Cian, and Demitrius gathered in the common

  room.

  “The place is mostly legit,” Cole elaborated. “It’s an institute for teens and young adults with problems ranging from ADHD to chronic depression. No underground labs that we could find and nothing more maniacal than an infirmary.”

  Cian was listening, but he was more interested in the “mostly legit” part of that statement. “Why do I feel there’s more to this?”

  “Funny you should ask.” Inching to the edge of the couch cushions, Cole set his laptop on the coffee table and tapped at the keyboard. “It took a little work, but Jackson was able to get into their secured files. While everything appears on the up-and-up at first glance, once we dug a little deeper, we found some pretty interesting facts.”

  “Will ya be gettin’ to the point sometime tonight?” The excitement in Cole’s voice and expression was certainly a good thing, but Cian was tired of the roundabout way he was getting to the delivery of his information.

  “Right,” Cole answered distractedly. “Sorry.” He clicked something on the screen, waited for it to load, and spun the computer around toward Cian. “Okay, so this is a list of incoming and outgoing transfers made within the last six months.”

  Names and photos of nine men and six women ranging in ages from eighteen to twenty-four composed the list displayed on the

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  laptop. Stats, such as height, weight, and blood type accompanied each name, along with numbers and letters that made no sense to Cian. “What are these?”

  “This column is outgoing transfers.” Cole pointed to the list of names on the right. “Do you see where it says ‘D-212R’ under the picture? We think that means these patients have been recommended for the D-212 program, the same drug The Hive gave your mate and his friends.”

  Only three of the fifteen names were on that list. “What about the incoming?”

  “Again, we can only theorize, but in this case, we think that ‘D212UR’ means that the subjects were unresponsive to the treatment.”

  “So, they use these patients until they snap, and then they ship them off to this Bridgemont place,” Demitrius surmised.

  Cian had been thinking exactly the same thing, though he probably would have chosen a few colorful adjectives to describe “they.” The one thing that was perfectly clear to him was that they were in a world of trouble. The more he learned, the more he began to realize that this thing was far too big for them to fight alone. Hell, he didn’t even have a clue where to begin.

  Did they cut it off at the legs? And exactly where was that? Or did they go right for the heart? Again, he had no idea where to aim his proverbial sword. Though he’d never had occasion to meet the vampire, he was beginning to view Cyrus Redway as some bizarre cross between a giant squid and a Hydra. He had his tentacles in everything, even from the grave, and each time they cut off one head, ten more grew back—just like their problems.

  “Can ya tell where they’re sendin’ these patients?”

  Cole shook his head and huffed in clear disgruntlement. “It’s the same bullshit address on those contracts Xander swiped.”

  “So, where does that leave us?” Cian already knew the answer. It left them right back at where they’d freaking started. It sent him right back to endangering his mate by taking Zavion to that cave and

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  hoping the guy could retrace his footsteps to the lab. Fuckin’ fantastic.

  “Well, it’s actually not as bad as you think.” Cole jabbed a few more keys before turning the screen back to Cian. “We were also able to get into their financial records. There aren’t any charges for flights or anything that would indicate they were traveling long distances back and forth between Bridgemont and The Hive.”

  “Maybe The Hive is paying for everything,” Demitrius argued. “It would make more sense if they were the ones transporting these

  patients back and forth.”

  “True, but Bridgemont has also received large charitable donations from Redway Corporations.”

  “Does that tell us anything we’re not already knowin’?” Cian asked.

  “If you two are going to be so negative, why am I even here?”

  “Well, if you’ll tell us anything that’s any goddamn use, maybe we wouldn’t be so bloody negative,” Cian yelled.

  “You just keep talking in fucking circles,” Demitrius agreed with a growl to his tone. “Nothing you’ve said is any help. Why do we even have these ridiculous meetings?”

  “We’re doing everything we can,” Blaise began in a placating tone. Only Cian wasn’t having it.

  “And it’s not your mate who’s dying, is it? What do ya have to lose, Blaise Taylor? Not a fuckin’ thing!”

  “We’ve wasted three days, three motherfucking days, where we could have been doing something more than sitting on our asses and waiting for you to tell us that you have absolutely squat!” His chest heaved, his nostrils flared, and Demitrius looked mad enough to spit

  fire as he loomed over the alpha.

  “Back the fuck off,” Cole demanded, shoving at Demitrius’s chest as he tried to insinuate himself between his mate and the pissed-off shifter.

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  “I’m doing the best I can, you ungrateful asshole,” Blaise shot

  back, completely ignoring Cole. “No, Oscar and Zavion may not be

  my mates, but I do have mates. I know exactly what you’re feeling, so don’t lecture me about what you’re going through.”

  “If ya know so damn much, why aren’t we any closer to findin’ this place?” Cian demanded, rising to his feet to stand toe-to-toe with the wolf.

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Well, make it that fucking simple,” Demitrius countered as his

  upper lip curled over his teeth.

  “All you’ve done is fiddle with that computer, and where has that gotten us? We could have been out lookin’ for this place for a week now, but no. We’ve been waitin’ on you. How is that okay, Blaise?”

  “It’s the safest and most efficient way to ”—

  “Oh, blow it out your ass, Alpha. I’m not buyin’ it.”

  “Guys, this isn’t getting us anywhere,” Cole implored. “Everyone just needs to calm down.”

  “Shut up,” Demitrius growled at him.

  “You can be pissed at me all you want,” Blaise responded coldly as he eased Cole behind him. “You will respect my mate, however. Cole has barely slept in a week, and he’s doing everything he can to help. Watch yourself, Accola. I mean it.”

  “And what have you done? Where have you been this whole time?”

  “I have responsibilities. I have a pack to run.”

  “Where are the Enforcers ya promised?” Cian asked, letting the accusation slip into his tone. “They should have been here by now.”

  “Their assignment is taking longer than expected.”

  “Bullshit,” Demitrius snapped. “Go back to Cloud Peak, Blaise. We’ll take it from here.”

  “You need our help,” Cole inserted quietly.

  “Yes, we do,” Demitrius agreed. “Too bad we’re not ge
tting any.”

  “Now, listen here…”

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  And after that, everything just dissolved into chaos again with the four men yelling and snarling at each other. There was name-calling, accusations tossed around, and a few questionable references to bodily harm that Cian wasn’t sure were physically possible. It didn’t stop him from saying them, though.

  They were acting like idiots. More to the point, they were being childish, like little boys in a playground skirmish. None of them seemed to be able to dial back the testosterone long enough to do anything about it, however. The longer they argued, the more imaginative the insults became, and Cian figured it would have probably escalated into physical contact if Oscar hadn’t chosen that moment to burst into the dorm.

  “Please,” he begged with wide eyes and a trembling lip. “I need help. Please.” Then he was gone again, dashing back outside like the hounds of hell were on his ass.

  Cian didn’t waste time with questions. Shoving past Blaise and Cole, he sprinted after Oscar with Demitrius right on his heels. His heart pounded frantically as his brain supplied ghastly images of things his mate could have suffered while he was busy being a tool.

  His boots thudded over the sodden ground as he raced to catch up to Oscar. For such a little guy, he was damn fast. Cian was faster, though, and within seconds, he’d finally caught the shifter. “What? What’s wrong?”

  “This way,” Oscar panted, not slowing his pace at all. “We were just walking down by the lake and he collapsed.”

  “Who? Who collapsed?” Cian didn’t wait for an answer, though. His mind supplied the worst, picturing Zavion spread out on the ground—pale, cold, and unmoving.

  Turning on a burst of speed, he shot past Oscar, running as fast ashis legs would carry him toward the murky pond. The cold January air burned his lungs and stung his face, but he barely noticed. Overhead, the clouds rolled and darkened, churning with the threat of coming rain and echoing the emotions inside his heart.