by Tara West
The intense pressure deep inside her built. Her clitoris felt like a balloon, inflating bigger and bigger with each stroke.
When he trailed hot kisses down her neck, she surrendered to the pleasure. “Oh, god.”
“Your god isn’t here, Eilea,” he rumbled in his wolf voice, making her even wetter.
Straddling her, he nudged open her robe with his nose, scraping his teeth across one pert breast, then the other. She panicked when he took her hard nipple in his mouth, then moaned in delight when he suckled her like a baby drawing milk, sucking, licking, nipping her sensitive flesh, until she thought she’d die from the pleasure. Just as she was about to expire, he released her and kissed his way to the other breast, teasing, stretching her nipple with gentle tugs of his teeth before releasing and licking away the pain.
When he slipped a digit inside her swollen pussy, she stilled, unable to breathe. He tunneled inside her while trailing kisses down her belly. If he sucked her clit, she would come undone. Her pussy swelled around his finger, then tensed when he slipped in another digit.
His fingers were thick, too thick.
“Easy.” She reached for his wrist. “It hurts.”
He scraped her thigh with canine teeth. “Relax. You’ll get used to it.”
She swallowed hard and forced herself to relax, to submit to the pleasure. Her tight sheath gave way, opening to him like a flower. He dove into her, his tongue darting across her sensitive flesh, his thick fingers probing her.
She thrust her hips, calling his name, giving in to euphoria as he fucked her with his fingers.
Her world shook, rocking so hard, she gasped for breath as a powerful climax gripped her. His fingers were deep inside her, thumping against her slick channel like a pulsating cock. Her sheath contracted, suddenly becoming too tight. She scurried up against the headboard, trying to free herself, but he followed her, jamming his fingers into her with deep, choppy thrusts.
“I’m not done with you,” he growled, his eyes canine slits and his nose lengthening as he circled her nub with his thumb.
Holy fuck! Was he shifting in front of her? He looked part demon. He finger-fucked her harder, faster, eyes glowing, canines extended. She should’ve been terrified, but she’d never been so damned turned on in her life.
He continued ramming into her, rattling the bed and making the springs squeal in protest. Clutching the headboard for support, she threw back her head with a plea on her lips as another powerful climax built. Without warning it spiraled through her, setting off a chain of orgasms so powerful, she couldn’t breathe as they shot through her, electrifying every nerve from head to toe. Sated and spent, she fell back in a puddle of satisfaction.
Geri removed his fingers and sucked her juices off them, making her pussy weep all over again. They settled on the pillow, and he kissed her neck while whispering Romanian words in her ear. She slumped against him, his thick erection jutting into her like a two-by-four. She thought about returning the favor, but she was so warm in his embrace, and so tired.
“Eilea,” he said. “What happened to your barrier?”
She stiffened, her eyes flying open. Aw, fuck. “Geri.” She cleared her throat, relieved she didn’t see judgment in his eyes. “I lost my virginity ages ago.”
Thunderstorms brewed in his eyes, his nose lengthening. “We will kill the man who raped you.”
She got up on her elbows. Feeling self-conscious, she pulled the blanket over her breasts. “I wasn’t raped.” Her heart sank when the light in his eyes dimmed.
“You chose to offer yourself to another?” Funny how his question sounded more like an accusation.
She cursed under her breath, shame washing over her. She’d known he wouldn’t be pleased about this. “It’s what human girls do.”
“I’m not sure how we will complete the bond without your virginal blood.” He frowned. “Did you love him?”
“I thought I did.” Her shoulders fell with the admission. Her first boyfriend was one of three failed relationships, all because they’d become too controlling.
“Was he your mate?”
Eilea wasn’t sure if his idea of mate was the same as hers. “For a time.”
“For how long?” His look of disappointment made her more than uncomfortable.
“A few years.” She cringed at his heavy sigh and wondered if his heart was breaking as much as hers.
“And you didn’t have offspring?”
“No.” She blew out a deep breath, her heartbreak slowly replaced by annoyance. How could he have expected her to remain a virgin for thirty-five years? Besides, he wasn’t a virgin. Talk about a double-standard. “We were students.”
His brow hitched, and for the first time, he looked mistrustful. “Where is this mate of yours now?”
“Last I heard?” She tried to recall Devin’s features. It had been a lifetime ago. “Married with three kids.”
His cheeks reddened, thick veins standing out on his neck. “So he claimed your virginity and then left you for another?”
She vigorously shook her head, her frustration growing. “It was a mutual separation.”
“I’m trying to understand this.” He leaned into her, confused. “It’s not common among the Amaroki. Was he the only human you mated with?”
She clenched the blanket, trying to find the right words. Then she realized she didn’t have to sugarcoat her life for him. If he didn’t approve, too damn bad. “There were two others.”
His jaw dropped, and he looked at her as if she’d just set fire to a bus full of nuns. “His brothers?”
“No.” Her left temple throbbed, and she sensed the beginnings of a migraine. She worked hard to unclench her teeth. “Different guys. They didn’t know each other.”
“And these men weren’t angry with you for giving yourself to others?”
The incredulity of his tone would’ve been comical if Eilea didn’t feel so fucking judged. “Do you know nothing of humans?”
He shook his head, his sharp features looking less sexy by the second. “Only what I’ve heard.”
“And what have you heard?”
“That they are whores, and I guess they were right.”
Her breath hitched as she waited for him to tell her he was joking, but he’d said it with a straight face. Holy fuck! He was serious?
She pointed at the door, tears threatening at the backs of her eyes. She would not let him see her cry. “Okay, you can leave now.”
“Have I said something wrong?”
No guy could be that fucking stupid. “Just go.”
He stood, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking like a wayward child who’d been sent to time-out. “I do not keep secrets from my brothers, but I will not tell them you’ve already given your blood to another until after we’ve closed the portal. They have enough on their minds.”
“How thoughtful of you,” she said tightly. “Please leave.”
“You are offended by my choice of words?” His question sounded more like a statement.
Maybe the dumbass was finally getting it. “Ya think?” She faced the wall when a tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
“I’m sorry for offending you. It was not my intention.”
She refused to look at him. “Could’ve fooled me.”
The sound of his retreating footsteps was followed by the soft click of the door. Only then did she give in to the torrent of tears she’d been holding back. She could never mate with the Lupescus, and not because of prejudice from shifters like Nakomi or the domineering nature of Amaroki males conflicting with her need for independence. She couldn’t mate with the Lupescus because they thought she was a whore.
Chapter Twelve
DRASKO PACED OUTSIDE the lodge in protector form, refusing to take any chances in case Katarina had summoned more demons. Clutching his silver-tipped axe like a lifeline, he stared up at the full moon through the trees. The air was stagnant, stifling. The forest’s silence was almost deafening. Drask
o’s wolf-touched senses were attuned to every nuance of the forest, yet not even an owl hooted. It was as if the evil that permeated the air had driven away the woodland creatures. Or maybe they, too, were sick. Drasko prayed they weren’t. An icy chill swept across his nape, and he heard his name on the wind. Drasssssko.
“Fuck you, bitch!” he roared, shaking his axe at the trees.
He dodged a falling branch, then laughed. “Your days on this plane are numbered. Prepare to meet your fate.”
The breeze died down in an instant. He hoped the Ancients had a special punishment prepared for Katarina after the death and destruction she’d brought to his tribe.
He heard the familiar hum of his brother’s truck approaching. Other than Amara’s fathers, Hakon had said only the sick or immune Amaroki were allowed near the lodge.
Drasko raced over when they rolled to a stop in the parking lot. His heart thudded a warning when he saw his mother and sister slumped inside. Hakon was hunched over the steering wheel, and Rone was bent over a bucket while the babies cried in back.
Hakon was the first to stumble out of the truck, looking disoriented.
Drasko grabbed his arm when he fell against the side of the truck. “Hang on, brother. Let me help you.”
Hakon looked up at Drasko with bloodshot eyes. “The fate of the Amaroki is in your hands now.” He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. “Luc and Annie have called on almost every pack. There is no sign of this witch.”
Drasko whistled to the Lupescus, relieved when they rushed toward the truck. The Romanians helped the women, Rone, and the babies into the lodge.
Drasko lifted his brother in his arms, an easy task when he was in protector form. So why did it feel like he carried the weight of the world?
His throat constricted as he looked into his brother’s wan face.
“Wait.” Hakon placed a trembling hand on his shoulder. “The Cloudwalkers. Luc couldn’t get to them.”
Drasko frowned. Of all the packs in the Amaroki, the odd Cloudwalkers were the most likely to have a witch among them. Both elder and young packs lived in the same cave. The goddess had said the witch was a female; maybe she was one of the Cloudwalker mates. “I will send a party after them.”
Hakon shook his head, sweat trickling down his face. “They are too close to the portal. It may be too late.”
Drasko ducked inside the lodge’s massive wooden front doors, which were etched with carvings of the Ancients. “I will handle it, brother.” His mind raced, searching for a plan. Who could he send on what might be a suicide mission? The number of healthy shifters was few. Who would guard the lodge if Katarina caused more trouble or demons emerged from the portal?
Drasko marched down the stairs toward his waiting mate, who stared at him with such hopelessness in her eyes, it broke his heart.
She fell to her knees when her father laid Rone down on a cot. Clasping his hands, she fell onto his chest. Drasko set Hakon in the cot next to Rone, his heart twisting when Amara turned and wrapped her arms around Hakon.
“My mates!” she sobbed. “Oh, Ancients, please save them!”
Drasko placed a hand on her shoulder. Amara, do not let the others see you upset. They follow your lead.
She blinked at him with wet eyes. Are the babies okay?
They’re fine. They must have enough of your human blood to stay well.
She nodded, dabbing her eyes before laying her hand on Hakon’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”
His eyes opened. “Don’t worry about me,” he rasped. “Take care of the others.”
She hiccupped. “You need me.”
“Please, Amara.” He punctured each word with a low whine.
She stood, shoulders sagging in defeat. “Okay.” She turned to Drasko. “There’s something I need to show you.”
She led him to the bottom of the lodge steps. He had to duck his head when she took him down a narrow hall.
“What is this about?”
She gave him a grim look. “It’s the Strongpaws.”
He shot her a questioning look when she brought him to the locker room. “Change into your jeans. If you go in there as a protector, she will think you’re there to kill them.”
“What the fuck, Amara?” Why would he want to kill the Strongpaws?
“Just change.” She pushed him inside.
He pulled on his pants and checked his cellphone, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension when he noticed Johnson hadn’t called or texted in several hours.
Amara took him to a private room. Nakomi Strongpaw was quietly tending to her three mates.
He looked at the sick shifters, who were as still as statues, their pallor deathly gray. “What am I looking at?”
Nakomi’s eyes flashed red. She rose, her fingers extending into long claws as she let out a deep growl. “I will crush him if he tries to hurt them.”
Amara held out a staying hand. “I just want him to see.” She nudged him toward a bed. “Touch Albert.”
Ignoring Nakomi’s low growls, Drasko touched the shifter’s skin, then pulled back, dark, depressing memories suddenly surfacing. “He feels like petrified wood.”
Amara licked her cracked lips. “That time you almost turned into a werewolf, your skin felt like this.”
Nakomi pushed his hand away, shielding Albert from Drasko’s scrutiny. He didn’t blame her for her protectiveness, but if Albert turned into a werewolf, Drasko would have no choice but to kill him.
The reality of the situation settled in his stomach like a lead brick. “Fuck me.”
“Drasko, what if they all turn? There are over 300 sick shifters out there, and more will come.”
Drasko’s head was ready to explode. What if this epidemic turned every Amaroki into a werewolf? How would Drasko kill them all? And what about his brothers? His mother, sister, and fathers? Did he have it in him to kill them, too? They had to find the witch, even if she lived near the portal.
Determination stiffened his spine. “We don’t have time to wait for the witch to reveal herself. I’ll send a party to go after her.”
“Who?” Amara asked.
“I don’t know yet.” He wracked his brain for a solution. He was the most capable shifter at the moment, immune to the sickness and with the power to turn into a protector should a demon emerge from the portal. But they needed him at the lodge, too. What if Albert turned? Who would keep his family safe?
He was startled by a sound outside. He held out a silencing hand before jerking open the door.
The little weasel named Jimmy emerged from the shadows, pocketing his phone and scurrying up the stairs.
Drasko let out a string of curses. “I think we have a spy.”
“Do you think he heard about the werewolves?”
“I don’t know.” But he suspected Jimmy had.
“You need to stop him,” Nakomi hissed.
“And do what?” Drasko snapped. “What will the government do if anything happens to him?”
She unsheathed long talons. “What will they do if he tells them they’re turning into werewolves?”
Drasko blinked at her hands, which were now tipped with claws. He must’ve imagined talons. The stress from this virus was taking a toll on his mental health.
“Sheath your claws,” he commanded in his protector voice. “We will not kill any humans today.” He pulled Amara out the door. “Come on.”
“Slow down,” she cried, digging her heels in.
He dragged her into a utility closet. Time was not on their side, and he had to know she would be safe. He slammed the door and switched on the solitary lightbulb overhead. “If we can’t find this witch—”
She jerked away. “I’m not leaving my mates.”
His vision tunneled. If he lost her and the babies, his life was over. “If we stay, we will all die.” He enunciated each word, hoping to get through to her. “Our babies will die.”
“I’m not discussing this.” She turned from him, shoulders stiffenin
g. “Find that damn witch.”
She threw open the door and ran up the stairs. Slumping against the wall, he felt powerless. Fool that he was, he didn’t stop her. What kind of protector would he be if he couldn’t save the woman he loved? What kind of chieftain if his people perished under his watch?
His phone buzzed in his pocket, making him yelp. He swore when he saw Agent Johnson’s name on the screen. Jimmy had heard them talking about the werewolf virus. His people were fucked.
BORIS ROLLED HIS SLEEVE down to conceal the rash, ignoring the burning pain that raced across his skin like wildfire. If his brothers saw it, they’d insist he lie down. It was one reason why he stayed in human form. The red welts would certainly stand out under his white fur. He refused to give in to the demon illness without a fight. As long as he had the use of his legs and his mind, he would do whatever it took to protect his family. Luckily, his younger brothers were inside the lodge. Jovan, who was in protector form, didn’t comment on Boris’s decision not to shift. Boris hoped it was because he was too concerned with threats from the eerie forest to pay attention to him. Or else Jovan knew about Boris’s impeding illness and chose not to comment.
Jovan paced the gravel walkway leading to the lodge’s massive double doors. “I don’t like that smell.”
Boris stopped, frowning at the familiar stench that left an unpleasant coppery taste on his tongue. “Neither do I.”
Jovan gave him a pointed stare. “Do you remember it?”
He swallowed. “I do.”
“Who do you think it is?” Jovan asked.
“The elder Eaglespeakers.”
Jovan nodded. “Tor should’ve removed their bodies when he found them by the portal.”
“They were too disoriented.” Boris shook his head. “I’m surprised they made it out of there.”