The Filthy Claws: Out for Blood (Exiled Book 2)

by J. K. Jones

Ryu strains to hear over the other prisoners moving around him. They’re all awaiting Imperator Yamamoto’s arrival. The Blackfang Hounds are known for their cruel punishments. Most of these men will end up dead for their crimes. Even petty as thievery is treated with the harshest sanctions.

  He sits up slowly. Pain stabs his head from being tossed around by the men so violently. The other wolves regard him, their eyes wide and frightened. Ryu tries to clear his mind and center his thoughts. If he’s honest with himself, being killed by the Blackfang Hounds won’t be so bad. He already died a long time ago. The minute Micah betrayed him, shredding what was left of his heart, he knew life would be meaningless. For the past few years, he has been surviving—not living. His life doesn’t mean anything. He has nothing, no one. He can’t even contact Amaya and tell her he’s okay.

  The air changes, suffocating and oppressive all at once.

  Many of the wolves stiffen. Even the general stands taller as the heavy iron doors open. A man walks in with several other menacing wolves. The light is so low Ryu can’t see what he looks like.

  “Imperator Yamamoto.” The general bows deeply. “We caught the thieves who have been terrorizing our vendors.”

  “Good work, General.” His voice is smooth, a deep resounding tenor that vibrates off the walls. “I expected nothing less.”

  “We’ve found something else too.” The general pauses and cuts his eyes over at Ryu.

  “I see.” The man steps forward. His shoulder-length hair is pitch black, long, and lustrous. Imperator Yamamoto is tall, imposing, towering over all his men. He’s older, with several wrinkles around his eyes. “A rare jewel.”

  His voice jolts through Ryu’s faint and feverish state. The imperator’s uniform is vastly different from the rest. He wears solid black camo gear, with several guns and knives on his belt and holster. He crouches down to Ryu’s level; his smirk is cold and calculating. “An Omega from the Silvercrest?” He sniffs the air. “An exile.”

  Ryu grits his teeth, clenching his fists.

  “What’s your name, boy?” Imperator Yamamoto asks, his eyes roaming over his features. Ryu weighs the pros and cons of not responding. However, given the number of soldiers here, he’s probably better off playing nice for the time being.

  “Ryu Suzuki.”

  “Ryu Suzuki of what?”

  “Of none of your fucking business,” Ryu snaps, earning several warning growls. The room goes deadly silent as every wolf seems to be watching the imperator’s expression. The man laughs. His eyes pierce Ryu’s heart in a way he can’t explain.

  “A young wolf,” he says almost dismissively. “Their fire always burns the brightest.” He grabs Ryu’s chin and thumbs his lips. “You’re a pretty one.”

  “Don’t touch me,” Ryu spits and jerks his face away. He’s sick of these fuckers touching him. If he had a knife, he would drive it right into his smug fucking face. These men don’t know who they’re messing with. If he could just find a weapon, he could break himself free and kill them all where they stand. These Blackfang Hounds are just like the Silvercrest Howlers, if not worse. All they care about is power and position. They are heedless of the suffering of others.

  Ryu snarls, baring his teeth.

  “Take him.”

  Where? To do what? Ryu’s eyes widen. He doesn’t know what Imperator Yamamoto has in store for him, but he knows it won’t be good. If he can just get this idiot to listen, then maybe he’ll set him free.

  “No!” Ryu shuffles, fighting with everything he can against his captors. “I-I didn’t do…I was only trying to survive. Please. You can’t.”

  Imperator Yamamoto regards him coolly. “You have no wolf. No home and I can tell your pack have thrown you out. You’re an exile. A traitor. Whatever you’ve done, you’ve pissed off some powerful people. You won’t talk, so I have no use for you.”

  “What—what do you want to know? If I tell you, will you let me go?” Ryu asks frantically.

  Imperator Yamamoto frowns. “Let you go where? If I let you go, you’ll continue to steal from my vendors and stir up trouble among the people.”

  “I won’t. I’ll leave if that’s what it takes.”

  “And go where?” The man shakes his head. “No. You’re better off in the dungeons.”

  The dungeons. His stomach turns. To throw an Omega in the dungeons would be suicide. Ryu knows all kinds of things that could happen to him down there, and nobody will ever hear him scream.

  “Wait! I can pay you back. I can work off my debt,” Ryu pleads. Anything is better than being thrown down there. “Please. I’ve been trained by Sensei Musashi. I can fight.”

  Imperator Yamamoto pauses, his brow furrowed. Another general steps up beside him and whispers in his ear. “I see…Tell them to wait in my study. I’ll meet with them in a moment.” He turns back to Ryu, his expression calculating. “There may be a use for you after all. Bring him to my chambers. I’ll speak to him soon.”

  The rest of the men snicker, and Ryu realizes too late that he propositioned himself to the imperator.

  Shit.

  At least it’s better than the dungeons. If he could just bide his time, they could escape, perhaps even kill the bastard and never look back. Imperator Yamamoto gazes down at him, his expression lethal.

  “You will be wise not to cross me.”

  Ryu’s never been known for his wisdom.

  Chapter 10

  A manor cresting a hilltop comes into view. Built in the late-sixteenth century, it consists of several wings with large bay windows. The black shingles, layered with shades of gray, of the sloped roofs glisten and gleam in the morning sunlight. Pink cherry blossoms crawling over the walls give the illusion that the white house floats on clouds, reaching toward heaven. The green hues of the forest are a perfect backdrop for the manor. From a distance, it’s a timeless grace, a spring flower nestled deep in the mountains.

  Ryu takes it all in, marveling at the stunning architecture. It seems fitting for the status of Imperator Yamamoto.

  A sense of calmness and serenity washes over Ryu as the guards lead him to the imperator’s bed chambers.

  His mind is blank.

  This time he knows what’s expected from him. It still doesn’t make things any easier. If he had a weapon, he would’ve killed all these bastards in a matter of minutes. His head aches something fierce, and his body is battered and bruised because of the soldiers roughing him up earlier. Fucking hell. Now, what’s he supposed to do? How could he get away from a fucking imperator? The Blackfang Hounds don’t have a lot of resources, but they have made damn sure that they have a solid army. Which is something the Filthy Claws severely lacks. If he tries to run away, they’ll hunt him down to the ends of the earth. The vengeful fuckers won’t hesitate.

  He’s completely fucked.

  The guards take off the cuffs, bow deeply, and take their leave.

  Imperator Yamamoto smirks, throws open double doors, and struts inside like a peacock. “My home. Make yourself comfortable.”

  Ryu glares at him.

  The large room is lavishly done, the decor a mix of modern and historical. The walls are decorated with calligraphic scrolls, prints in the style of Japanese art masters, and paintings of trees with cherry branches. Incense burns on the desk, and the soft glow of the sun streaming through the large windows gives the room a warm feeling. The imperator regards him closely, hands clasped behind his back. “What do you think?”

  Ryu looks around the room, frowning slightly. Nobody has ever asked him what he thinks. For a long time, his thoughts were not needed. Nor were they ever relevant. In the Silvercrest Howlers clan, it would be a grievous insult to be alone with an Alpha, let alone have a conversation. Ryu shrugs, keeping his face as neutral as possible.

  “Well, get used to it. You’ll be spending a lot of time here.”

  His stomach clenches. Shit. What the hell is he going to do? “Look,” Ryu says as hysteria builds inside him. “What I said earlier…I m
eant manual labor…Send me to the mines…I can work off my debt.”

  “Really?” Impetrator Yamamoto is clearly amused. “The mines are no place for an Omega…especially one as…delicate as yourself.”

  “I’m willing to earn an honest living,” Ryu says, his voice firm. “I’ll work off my debt running errands or doing anything you see fit.”

  Impetrator Yamamoto smiles at him. “What I see fit is someone to warm my bed. Besides, weren’t you the Silvercrest Howlers’ plaything?”

  Ryu freezes. “How did you know that?”

  “I know everything. My spies are everywhere. Needless to say, you’ve built quite the reputation for yourself over there. I heard an interesting rumor that the wars between the Filthy Claws and the Silvercrest Howlers were over an Omega with two Alphas. I think that Omega is you.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ryu says through clenched teeth.

  “I know enough that Kenyon claimed you as his mate, the two of you mated, and when Micah found out, he was furious about it.”

  It’s not true. A vicious lie spread by the Silvercrest Howlers to ruin his credibility and make him seem like a whore. That’s all it comes down to anyway. Fuck. Why did it always have to come to this? Were Alphas so sex-crazed that they couldn’t get their dick wet elsewhere? Ryu grits his teeth. No. He’ll never yield to this man. He’s better off in the dungeons if he’s just going to be humped all day and night.

  “Send me to the dungeons, then.”

  “Too late.”

  “You’re such a fucking cliché. Why can’t you see past the fact that I’m more than a walking hole for your dick?”

  “I wasn’t aware there was more to you than that.” Impetrator Yamamoto laughs.

  Sex. Were all these bastards the same?

  “You’re more disappointing than an unsalted pretzel.”

  Imperator Yamamoto chuckles heartily. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Don’t. It’s an insult.”

  “The fact of the matter is you aren’t in the position to insult me.” the imperator smirks. “You aren’t in the position to do anything.”

  Ryu slams his mouth shut. Of course, the bastard is right. With one word, he can have him killed or, worse, thrown into the pits.

  “What the hell do you want?”

  A shadow clouds his features. He strolls to one of the tables and pours them both a drink of Scotch. Ryu snatches the glass out of his hand and drains it in one go.

  “I don’t need a mate…I already had one…She died in childbirth…along with my son,” Imperator Yamamoto says in a low voice, then pours Ryu another drink. “I want pleasure. Plain and simple. Nothing more and nothing less. I can tell your mate still lives. Your Māku is strong…he must be a formidable Alpha.”

  Or a cowering piece of shit.

  Ryu turns away, uncomfortable with the conversation. He’s only ever given himself to Micah. He’s disgusted by the thought of having sex with someone else. What type of person would do that? If Micah knew, he would kill him.

  But Micah doesn’t care.

  He betrayed him, left him to rot in exile while he continued to rule the Silvercrest Howlers. Micah knew the type of life he would have to live. He watched them torture him and toss him like garbage into the Icy Lake. His wolf is gone, along with his home and his family. There is nothing left of him.

  “I’ve…” Ryu takes a stuttering breath. “I’ve only been with my mate…”

  Imperator Yamamoto looks at him almost fondly. “That means nothing, Ryu. You are very young, but you’ll learn that sex can be a useful tool…especially for someone in your position. I can teach you pleasure. I can teach you to maximize gratification. You have much to learn.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “What choice do you have? None whatsoever. The fact that I’m even asking is a courtesy. Normally I wouldn’t ask, but…there is something different about you. Something I like. I think this agreement would be mutually beneficial for both of us.”

  “You want something else too.” Ryu isn’t stupid.

  A man in his position always wants more.

  Chapter 11

  “I need someone to steal documents for me,” Imperator Yamamoto says. Confidential letters, treaties, anything you can get your hands on from some people on the council. If you do this, you’ll be rewarded handsomely. I’ll give you food, shelter, and a place to stay along with—”

  “A big fat cock every single night? No thanks.”

  Imperator Yamamoto smirks. “Your alternative is several big fat cocks nightly. Which would you prefer? The more, the merrier, I always say.”

  “You’re sick.” Ryu sneers. “Next time you cross the road, don’t bother looking.”

  “Ryu.” The imperator’s expression darkens. “Don’t test me. I’ve been lenient with you long enough.”

  He’s helpless. The emotions threaten to swallow him whole. Doesn’t he get a say? Isn’t he allowed even a shred of human decency? Now he’s supposed to become some Alpha’s live-in whore? Ryu hates them all. Bitter tears slide down his cheek as he glares at the man in front of him.

  “Do what you want, then,” Ryu spits, his body trembling. He’s nothing anyway. An Omega. A Filthy Claw. An exile. Nobody cares whether he lives or dies. Why does it matter now? Micah certainly doesn’t care. Sleeping with Imperator Yamamoto would drive a spike through Micah’s chest.

  “I want this to be beneficial for both of us,” Imperator Yamamoto says carefully. “Contrary to popular belief, not all Alphas rape Omegas.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  “Pleasure isn’t a one-way street.” The man takes a step toward him, his body heat radiating like a furnace through his clothing. “You can take pleasure too. It doesn’t mean anything. I can tell your Alpha hurt you. I can see it in your eyes, in your rage. Why not have some fun? He’ll never know.”

  “But—”

  “I can teach you things.” Imperator Yamamoto leans in close, his breath ghosting over his glans. Ryu shivers, even though the room is hot. “How to maximize pleasure during your heats. How to take what you want…and give absolutely nothing back. You can fuck any Alpha you want…and feel nothing afterward. Let me teach you…” He runs his nose along Ryu’s neck and lands just under his chin. “Let me.”

  “You—”

  “Haru,” Imperator Yamamoto cuts him off. “My name is Haru Yamamoto.”

  He takes Ryu into his arms and kisses him deeply. It’s not like Micah. His lips are strange—foreign, rough, and demanding. Ryu gasps, fear gripping him tightly at being taken forcefully. However, Haru is gentle. He cups his face, slowly kissing him, then angling his head. He dips his tongue into his mouth, heightening the pleasure between them. Ryu’s heat flares. His body bristles with want and need as slick drips down his cheeks. Fuck.

  He’s never been kissed like this.

  Haru is experienced and takes Ryu to the precipice of the mountaintops and leaves him there. He lays Ryu down and undresses him with kind and reverent eyes that make his insides spark with fire. It’s different, new. Not at all like his first love. Where Micah is brusque and ruthless, plowing on like a man half-possessed, Haru goes slow as if unwrapping a precious gift. His skilled hands pinch and pull in all the right places until Ryu is a sobbing mess beneath him. The Māku sizzles in anguish.

  Ryu cries out until his voice is raw.

  He comes until there’s nothing left.

  In the stillness, there are no thoughts, no focus, only desire, and the aching pain of waiting for a love that will never come back.

  -

  It’s straight fucking.

  Brutal, loud, and brash. Ryu learns to ride. To suck, buck, and fuck his way through the night. Haru is an excellent teacher. His instructions make his toes curl, and his body arches with a crescendo of passion.

  Desire rips through him and unleashes something inside him. Intoxicating everything, tossing his emotions around like a storm at sea.<
br />
  Haru is relentless.

  A quick flash of skin, a wrist or neck, carelessly left on display, or even a coy smile causes Haru to go into a mindless frenzy. A rut so consuming it destroys everything in its path.

  Ryu is the most exasperating brat.

  It takes months of crying into his pillow and guilt torching his heart and soul before he relents. He feels awful for fucking Haru and even worse for enjoying it. Micah doesn’t care. He never did. And as the years pass neither does Ryu.

  He enjoys sex now.

  Ryu smiles at him, sensuous eyes twinkling and glistening. He relishes the predatory look on Haru’s face, how he dismisses his men effortlessly and bends Ryu over the nearest table before they’re out of the room.

  Fuck me harder. That comment alone will make his blood boil hot, hotter than ever before. Through sex, he releases everything—his anger, his resentment, his blinding hatred for Micah and the Silvercrest Howlers. He works himself to the point of exhaustion. Haru takes it all and gives it back with equal fervor. It’s wonderful, sublime. To be taken into a sea of ecstasy and drown.

  Ryu is positively shameless. From the obscene noises he makes to the crinkle in his brow. He loves it when Haru teases his weeping hole.

  It makes him delirious.

  The weight, the heat, the sounds—everything. There is no escape. His hatred for Micah fills his longing for revenge. What’s better than getting fucked by someone else? He lives for the day Micah will see him and know he’s been with someone else.

  Ryu wines, riding Haru’s knot expertly, canting his hips like mad, chasing the sun. At the peak, he rises like a phoenix, like a wayward flame after his world turned to ash. Passion—with Haru, he finds passion. It morphs into determination and grit, picking up the pieces of his life and putting it back together.

  In the end, Ryu recalls being overcome with ocean waves of exquisite pleasure, dosing the fire to cool ambers.

  Chapter 12

  The Filthy Claws

  Fujisawa, ‘21

  Present day…