WEREWULF JOURNALS 4:

SATED PLEASURES

 

 

 

 

Camille Anthony

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

®

www.loose-id.com



 

 

 

Warning

 

This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.



 

Werewulf Journals 4: Sated Pleasures

Camille Anthony

 

This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

 

Published by

Loose Id LLC 

1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924

Carson City NV 89701-1215

www.loose-id.com

 

 

Copyright © February 2008 by Camille Anthony

All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

 

 

ISBN 978-1-59632-638-5

Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

 

 

Printed in the United States of America

 

 

Editor: Maryam Salim

Cover Artist: Scott Carpenter



 

 

Dedication

 

Ellen and all the ladies of the Camille’s Communiqué group: You all keep me sane.

Maryam, my intrepid editor, you’ve been with me from the beginning and what a ride we’ve had! Thanks for making me look good! Kisses and hugs to you.



Hunger Pains

 

He kept losing focus. The hunger was growing stronger. He’d need to kill again soon.

“I should have waited to eat that monkey,” he mumbled, scrubbing his body free of every hint of the dead woman’s smell, giving special attention to his groin. “Pah! I couldn’t waste the flesh, could I?” What wulf could stand cold meat between his teeth?

Need to change.

His skin felt itchy, the wulf wanting out.

Need to hunt, to feed.

Though he’d recently fed, his stomach cramped with hunger.

Fangs shredding sweet, wet meat.

He hadn’t believed the others when they’d said it could be like that…the hunger growing out of control once the taste for human was in your mouth…an adrenaline rush without peer, an addiction without cure.

Tastes like chicken. He giggled, tickled by the thought of the macabre truism, which he now knew to be false. They tasted more like young wild boar meat, the tender flesh sweet and slightly salty.

Need more. Want more!

He giggled again, thinking about all those plump little monkeys sleeping in their rooms, had to fight off the urge to change and go rustle up a late night snack. He just barely managed to resist, reminding himself of the risks.

He hadn’t been patient enough, had indulged his new appetites too soon, so now he had to be very careful, wily. The pepper must have worked, or they’d have been howling for his blood by now, but he had to lay low. It irked him, having to hold off on the other kill he’d planned until this brouhaha over his last kill cooled.

Where did I put that last pair of clean pants? “Can’t keep burying my clothes,” Delin grumbled half under his breath. “I hate doing laundry.” Much as he’d tried to stay clean, he’d gotten blood on his favorite pair and had discarded them along with Alice’s jogging pants. Bitch had managed to kick him in the teeth while he was gutting her. His DNA was all over them. “Oh well, a good meal deserves some effort, I suppose.”

Delin found the pair of pants on the floor, behind the bed. He pulled on his clothes, combed his hair, and patted his pocket, making sure he had his keys. On his way out the door, claws of steel ripped through his abdomen. He gritted his teeth against the pain of another cramping wave of need.

Oh Goddess, I’m hungry! They didn’t warn me I’d be so hungry all the time!

Hobbling back to the bathroom, he fumbled in the medicine cabinet for a bottle of contraband aspirin. Damned doctors wanted everyone to get their meds through them. Ha! Nobody told him what to do. Grimacing, Delin tossed back half a bottle of pills, turned the faucet on, and guzzled water from the tap, drenching his parched mouth with the tasteless liquid, wanting something else, craving blood.

His thoughts whirled. His mind seemed to crack wide open as the bloodlust raged within, raking his belly with streaks of fire. He wanted to gorge himself on raw meat, fill his gut until it was heavy with human flesh. Nothing else would satisfy him now. Everything else tasted of ashes and bitter dregs.

Shaking, Delin let himself out of his room and pulled up short. The smell of prey hit his nostrils, slammed into him like a runaway rhino. He almost forgot himself; he started down the long corridor where the clients slumbered, unaware of the danger outside their doors.

One last time he caught himself and reversed his steps, hurrying down the hall. He had to get to that meeting. He might be losing it, but he retained enough functioning brain cells to know he had to find a way off this island. Escape would be difficult, but he’d do it even if he had to risk swimming to the mainland. He’d make his plans after the meeting, once he saw which way the wind was blowing.

If only his thoughts would stop drifting back down the hall.

If only he could stop envisioning that plump Alice as he’d seen her last…as a hunk of sweet, red meat dripping with hot blood!

Turbulent Skies

 

Stumbling through a treacherous jungle, screaming…

Warm blood on her hands, hot, murderous rage roiling in her gut…

Tripping over a bloody body…discovering a loved one, lost…

Agony consuming her heart, destroying her…

Staring into a watery mirror, seeing a familiar face…knowing it was not her own…

 

Indigo came awake gasping, fighting the recurring dream. The relentlessly gory scene fought back, determined to force a place for itself within her mind. With sheer determination, she closed down the vision. Shut it off.

Heart pounding, hands gripping the arms of her airplane seat, Indigo breathed through her mouth, forcing down the terror that grew each time she experienced this particular waking nightmare.

Damn it, every time she relaxed or allowed her mind to drowse, her subconscious mind took over, forced her to confront those chilling events. Over and over, she’d resisted this particular vision, hating the surety of inevitability -- knowing she could do nothing to change the outcome of a precog seeing that impacted upon her own future. What frightened her most was the rarity of it. She could count on one hand with fingers left over the times she’d been shown an event that focused on her.

Scrubbing at the skin around her eyes, massaging the muscles twitching beneath her palms, she chanced a glance over to where Ari sat listening to the classical music piped through the ship’s intercom; his heavily lashed eyelids drooped over slumberous navy blue eyes.

Ari liked his music loud. A wry smile curved her full lips as she watched that well-shaped head nod in time to the spritely beat of a country gavotte by Bach. She thought it might be from Suite 6.

Thank goodness, the sight engendered nothing more than a normal woman’s instinctive appreciation of male beauty because the Greek demigod, Kyrios Aricles -- with all those ink black curls tumbling over his broad, smooth, ivory-hued forehead -- was beyond gorgeous. He was also, as were all the men of the Non-Human Protectors, like a brother to her.

Not that it would have done her any good harboring stronger leanings that way. She’d seen Ari’s future mate in several precog visions and didn’t have a death wish. The demigod had no idea what was in store for him in the very near future. The female fated to be Ari’s one and only was fiercely passionate, more than strong enough to frighten any sane woman away from what she considered her territory.

The thought of Ari’s probable reaction to finally meeting his forever love was a momentary mood lightener. Indigo pressed a palm over her lips to muffle laughter. It was rich, watching him enjoy his music, oblivious to the chaotic future awaiting him, but that one moment of levity passed swiftly, abetted by her somber mood. Dread weighed down upon her. Inevitably, she’d have to share her concerns with him, but for now, she needed some time alone.

Body still shaking with the lingering residue of her fight-or-flight response, Indigo’s trembling fingers unbuckled her seatbelt. Freed, she paused a moment, commanded her weak leg muscles to firm up, then made her way to the small restroom at the rear of the plane.

In the small cubicle, she dashed a splash of cold water on her sweaty face and glanced up to stare glumly into the tiny mirror. She flinched. Instead of the usual deep indigo from which she drew her name, her irises were an icy, arctic blue. The exact hue belonging to the very dead man she’d seen in her vision. The sight terrified her.

“Damn it all to hell!” The gruff quality of her words had Indigo cringing. They’d emerged harsh and raspy from her dry throat. She hadn’t lost control like this since leaving childhood and for a good reason.

“Indigo, you may not go outside and mingle until you’ve learned control. It’s too dangerous with you morphing so indiscreetly.”

“But, why?”

“Because the people on this planet kill what they fear.”

“I don’t understand, Meemaw.”

“I know, Indigo, and that is the danger. You must always remember that we are different. We only look like humans on the outside. And sometimes, for Earthlings, the superficial likeness makes their fear worse.”

Indigo averted her gaze from the mirrored reflection of her turbulent -- once again deep blue -- eyes. Her mother’s fate was a constant reminder of the necessity of being in control at all times. A few days after that lecture, her mother had proven the truth of her warning. She should have heeded her own advice.

Indigo slumped forward, forehead resting against the mirror, fighting to compose herself. Her parents’ deaths at the hands of humans had taught her that an unsteady shifter was a dead shifter. Getting her emotions under control proved difficult. She trembled with the effort to retain her human shape. As always, whenever she was disturbed or frightened, her body attempted to revert to the form she’d held for most of her childhood years -- that of a calico tabby.

Most days, she managed to keep the old memories at bay, refused to dwell on the personal tragedy of her past. That she did so now underscored just how deeply the vision had unsteadied her.

After a while, she pulled herself together. Drying her dripping face on the convenient hand towel, Indigo took one last look to check her appearance. Her now stoic eyes betrayed not a hint of the turmoil still taking place inside. No one but she needed to know how concerned she was.

Though she had not yet personally met the male revealed in her dreamscape, she knew of him. After all, who didn’t know the man Time had named the Playboy Prince? The gossip rags labeled him a world-class jetsetter, a womanizing ne’er-do-well with enough money to buy his way out of a galaxy of trouble. Prince Playboy would soon find himself in a situation that no amount of cash, cold, glittering, or otherwise, could stave off -- the gory death in his future.

Despite the usual inevitability of her visions, or more accurately because of that, Indigo had no intentions of becoming involved with Orloffberg -- emotionally or otherwise. The last thing she wanted was to actually experience the murderous rage, icy dread, and deep sense of loss she’d felt while in the dream state. That last was too close to the pain she’d experienced while a child.

I’ve learned from my mother’s mistake. I’ll do my job, try to save others from this murderous wulf, but I won’t allow myself to fall in love with a treacherous human…

Employee Relations

 

Pavel stopped off at the office before heading for the main dining room, his steps firm, jaw tight, checking to be sure his secretary had carried out his orders.

Elise met him at the door, handing over the thick packet of employee records. He took them with absentminded thanks and went through them, searching for a particular folder. “Are they all in attendance?”

“Every last one accounted for, Alpha.”

“Good. Close this place down tight and head over to the dining hall. Have one of the guards escort you over. I’ll meet you there.”

Elise bristled. “I left puppyhood behind a long time ago. I can take care of myself.”

Pavel didn’t have time to deal with misplaced bravado. His menacing growl had her immediately backing down. If she’d been wearing fur, he knew she’d have gone over, exposing her belly. As it was, her hunched shoulders and downward gaze was the skin equivalent.

“Forgiveness, Alpha,” she whispered, head and eyes respectfully lowered.

He sighed, ran the fingers of one hand through his hair. “Elise, I wasn’t questioning your fighting ability or your competence in any other area. There is a killer out there, and to underestimate him could prove deadly. You are key personnel, and by that, I mean you have access to all the keys for this complex. By now, if he’s not stupid, our murderer is looking for a way off this island. You are not expendable and I will not risk your life just to stroke your ego. So when I ask you to take special care, I expect to be obeyed.”

She nodded wordlessly, went back into her office to shut down her computer and lock the files. Without a word, she finished several other tasks and quietly let herself out of the office complex.

Pavel sat down at his desk and pulled the huge pile of files toward him. He hated having to leave Kaila tonight of all nights and the last view of her snuggled up next to a sleeping Rickard tore at his heart. He wanted to be with them, his two loves…his friend and his mate; he resented the work that kept him from them.

As soon as the feelings came over him, Pavel rejected them, ashamed of himself. He owed the murdered victim more than a grudging defense.

Oh, well…soonest begun, soonest done.

With a resigned sigh and a renewed determination, Pavel opened the file he’d selected and started reading.

* * * * *

Brandon tiptoed to the door, eased out so he wouldn’t wake Rosemary. He made sure it locked behind him, carefully pocketed the key, and rushed to catch up to the wulf coming out of a room farther up the hallway. “Ruff! Wait up a minute and I’ll walk with you.”

The other wulf turned and waited for him to come alongside, then resumed his long-legged stride down the dimly lit corridor. “Hey, Brand, what’s up?”

“That’s what I want to know. What in hell is going on? Why is the director calling a full staff meeting in the middle of the night?”

“No idea, but I suspect there’s trouble with a capital T brewing.”

Brandon matched steps with the older wulf and lowered his voice. “Do you think it might have something to do with what we reported yesterday?”

Ruff appeared to give it some thought. “I don’t know, Brandon. Granted, the director was very angry, however I don’t believe he would call a late night meeting just to fire someone.”

“I agree it doesn’t sound like something he would do. I just hope it’s not bad news ’cause I’ve never had a better job.”

Ruff’s long legs covered the ground quickly, and Brandon did a little hop-jump to keep up. “Hey, maybe some dignitaries have flown in, wanting to check out the spa.”

Ruff cocked an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “In the middle of the night…?”

Brandon shrugged, flashed a smile. “You think the idea is too farfetched?”

Ruff snorted. “Don’t you? How about we just wait and see what the director says?”

Brandon nodded, but something in his gut told him he wasn’t going to like what this meeting entailed. He hoped like hell whatever it was, turned out to be a personnel problem, something Pavel could deal with in-house. This Sated Pleasures Spa job was a sweet gig, offering the best pay he had ever received. When you added in the fringe benefits of unlimited pussy, there was no way he wanted to lose this position any time soon.

* * * * *

When Pavel stepped into the crowded main dining room forty-five minutes later, he found every member of the staff -- over fifty people -- waiting for him. Some seemed alertly wide awake, others bleary-eyed with interrupted sleep. He took careful mental note of the former.

Also per his orders, not a single human was in the room. Trusted members of his pack, those who had flown in with Rickard, guarded the doors and all other entries to or from the room. With a nod to Karel, he moved to the table set up for him in the center of the crowd.

Without preamble, he announced, “I’m sorry to wake you in the middle of the night like this, but we have a rogue wulf among us. There’s been a murder.”

The room erupted into shocked cries and questions. Pavel let the assembled wulves voice their concerns for a moment before holding up his hand and demanding silence. “Needless to say, you are all under suspicion until cleared.”

Most of the wulves nodded their heads in agreement, understanding the necessity. A few took umbrage and made no bones about voicing their displeasure.

“Why the hell are we being judged as guilty when we’ve done nothing wrong?”

“You’re not being judged, you’re merely being investigated,” Pavel pointed out patiently, understanding the wulf’s reaction. He’d sure as hell bandy words with anyone accusing him of murdering a helpless woman. “Until I am ready to render judgment, everyone will receive the same treatment. I cannot assume anyone’s innocence. Too much is at stake.”

“Alpha, who is it? Who has been murdered?”

“Unfortunately, we do not know as of yet. The killer tore the body apart…consumed a substantial amount. There’s barely enough left to tell us she was Caucasian. The only way to ascertain her identity is with dental records or performing a head count of all of the clients.”

“That would go over well. I can almost hear them screaming and crying…”

Pavel nodded. “At least one of you understands why we chose not to wake up the clients. We’ll wait until morning and take attendance during breakfast. I can’t take the chance of having the women panic. Fear can turn even the most levelheaded human into prey.”

There was no actual gagging, but many of the wulves bore expressions of disgust. Unless starving, no self-respecting wulf would lower him or herself by eating prey unworthy of the hunt. Hunger wasn’t what drove this rogue.

Pavel fought the rising gorge in his own belly. Fury burned within him, found an outlet in the incandescent glow of his eyes. Fur ran like a liquid blanket across his shoulders, down his back. His skin itched, the tips of his fingers burned under the prick of emerging claws. Fangs burst from his gums and it took precious moments for him to control himself.

Closing his eyes didn’t help. Every time he did so, he saw his own Kaila torn and ravaged like that poor woman, and his wulf raged inside. He opened his eyes, swept the room with an implacable gaze hard as stone. When he spoke, it was with words more growl than English. “One of you dared to do harm to a woman under my protection. One of you had the audacity to violate your throat-oath to me. When I find the beast, the monster that did this, I will show no mercy. When I finish with him, he will look worse than the flotsam of life he left strewn on the jungle floor.”

The room was silent. No one spoke. The noisy scrape of a chair sounded in the vacuum and all heads turned to see the person who rose to stand in the quiet room. Silent, regal, Prince Wagner Rupert Rickard Orloffberg walked to the front of the room and took his place beside Pavel.

Pavel hid his shocked displeasure as he bowed low to his sovereign. He’d left Rickard soundly asleep, curled up next to Kaila. At least he thought he had. His brows lowered as his heart began to beat out of rhythm. If Rickard is here, who is guarding Kaila?

Rickard locked me in your office, love. No need to fret.

Pavel relaxed as Kaila’s mental voice soothed his worry.

Stay there until I come for you, drouch.

Her quick response was acerbic. I’m not likely going to go traipsing the grounds with a murdering werewulf on the loose. Now hush, I want to hear Rickard’s speech.

“I am not a wulf, but I am the ruling prince of Drestovia and the Drestovian Pack has called my country home for millennia. The royal family and the Pack Alpha have shared a bond for most of those years. For this reason, I count myself as one with you. For this reason, I say with all my heart, I do not believe a loyal Drestovian could commit such an act.”

His words met with cheering. He allowed the staff to release some tension before gesturing for them to cease.

“As for those of you hired on here at Sated Pleasures, the majority of you came highly recommended by your alphas.” Rickard paused, glanced about him. His pale sapphire blue gaze touched everyone present one at a time. “The humans have a saying, ‘One bad apple can spoil the whole bunch,’ but I do not agree. Furthermore, I am convinced this filthy murderer is not one of us, one of you. Instead of arguing and spouting complaints, I urge you all to help seek out and apprehend this creature before he strikes again. For, believe me, he will strike again. He has the taste in his mouth, the thrill in his heart. Killing is like a drug that he cannot resist. Until he is found, no one is safe.”

Tonight, Pavel was glad for Rickard’s assistance. At the best of times, he was nowhere near as articulate. This tragedy had stripped him of all tact. He observed Rickard speaking to the staff, using his celebrated diplomacy to reach them, draw them into one unified entity. The honeyed words and calm demeanor were tools he’d seen his prince utilize many times.

“As the owner of this resort, I am ultimately responsible for all that takes place here. I need this incident brought to a close as expediently as possible; I want this killer found. To that end, I offer a reward of one million dollars to the wulf who brings me his carcass.” He paused as noise erupted in the room once more. “You heard me correctly. I said one million dollars to the wulf who finds me that killer. Untaxed,” he added with a wink.

Rickard returned to his seat amid excited murmuring. Several wulves offered to go out hunting right away.

Pavel sucked in his breath, let it out. With a shake of his head, he returned to the gruesome business of arranging the investigation of his staff. He was anxious for the two NHP members to arrive. Their training equipped them to deal with situations like this. They would do far better than he with his bumbling attempts would. For now, he could only do his best. That meant getting everybody in one place.

“I have one more thing to add. Because the killer ingested a large portion of the victim, each one of you will have to undergo gastric testing. Using these tests, the doctors can determine the contents of your stomachs.

“As I’ve said before, every wulf is suspect until cleared by testing. Once the doctors release you, you’ll be free to return to your quarters, though I suggest you find a partner and pair up with him or her. I doubt the rogue would attack a wulf -- he’s a coward, fit only to hunt the helpless -- there is no telling what anger might drive him to do. Be safe. Try not to be alone at any time.

“I think it best that there be no shifting and hunting until further notice. Breakfast for staff will be served at six this morning. You will escort your clients to the dining room in the company of a Drestovian Guard. Under no circumstances are you to inform your client of this unfortunate event. I will do that when the time is right. Two members of the Non-Human Protectors unit will be arriving sometime this morning. You will all cooperate to the best of your ability and render any assistance the two operatives request immediately. Any questions…?”

When none were forthcoming, he nodded. “All right, let’s get these tests over with. No one leaves until we’re done.”

The Bathroom Window

 

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit! They will damn sure find huge chunks of that fat bitch, Alice, in my belly.”

Taking advantage of the seething turmoil of the room, the frenetic madness of money-mad conversations, Delin sidled out of the room and escaped to the sanctuary of the bathroom.

“Damn that high and mighty Janecek. A wulf can’t eat in peace nowadays with those damn upstart monkey doctors and their infernal tests! The anarchist wulves are right. We wulves are superior. We need to send those damned dirt monkeys back to a time when their technology didn’t infringe on our goddess-given rights.”

He paced in agitation, banging on the doors of the stalls as he passed. “It’s too hot on this island. I’ve got to get out of here.”

He eyed the small window set high in the wall. He discounted the bars. They would stop a puny human, but they couldn’t hold in a wulf. He would get out and try to make it to the landing strip. That damned Janecek puppy had mentioned something about a plane coming in. He’d try to hijack it, make the pilots fly him to the mainland.

Delin went out to the bathroom’s lobby and dragged the heavy trashcan back with him. He positioned it under the window, removed the domed lid and leapt nimbly up on the rim. Balanced precariously, he relaxed, allowing his body to take on the hulking bulk of mid-form. The power and adrenaline rush he experienced in this form brought with it a heady euphoria and it was hard, but he bit back the joyous howls bubbling in his throat. With casual strength, he ripped out some steel bars, bent the others until he had a space large enough to wedge his mid-form body through.

He left tufts of fur and a long strip of hide getting out the narrow jagged frame, but he was free! He wouldn’t worry about the evidence he was leaving behind. When they discovered he’d escaped, they’d pretty much figure him for the murderer.

Delin took a moment to regret having moved too soon, having given in to anger at the bitch’s disrespectful attitude. He’d planned to kill and eat her all along, but he should have timed it better. If he’d taken the time to do it correctly, he could have enjoyed a real killing spree.

As for that pompous ass, Rickard and his trained dog, Janecek…they needed to learn not to mess with the natural order of things. Catering to these hoity-toity dirt monkeys, preferring them over their betters was wrong. He couldn’t stand how they strutted around like their shit didn’t stink just because they had buckets of money.

His feral eyes glowed, fangs dropped down as his mouth twisted with the hatred he felt for the two responsible for his discomfort. When and if he could, he’d find a way to hurt them. Maybe kill that fine assed breed they’d been fucking. Yeah, he’d smelled her sweet pussy all over them. It was one more sin laid to their account: hoarding the best cunt for themselves.

He’d get to them, sure as shit, but for now, he’d have to cut his losses and live to kill another day. Getting to the mainland, where he could disappear into the teeming populace of the city and hunt at will was his main priority. To do that, he needed to be in fighting form. A complete shift to fur form healed most of his injuries and with a wild, rebellious howl, Delin loped into the night, setting a roundabout course to the airstrip.

Early Morning Snack

 

Kaila came partially awake as Pavel slipped his hands under her shoulders and hips. She turned into his embrace, snuggling against his broad chest. “Meeting over with?”

Rickard answered her drowsy question. “Yes, drouch, now we have time for you.”

“You never told tell me what ‘drouch’ means.”

Pavel chuckled. “Here comes the vocabulary lesson…”

Rickard lightly punched him. “Shut up, you. She asked me. Drouch is an ancient Drestovian word with many meanings, all of them terms of endearment.”

Kaila looped an arm over Pavel’s shoulders and twisted her head a bit to bring Rickard into her sights. “What do you mean when you say it to me?”

Rickard smiled. “It means, ‘Little heart,’ ‘Beloved one,’ ‘Desired one’…all of those.”

She glanced over at Pavel, just in time to catch the two men sharing a surprisingly hot gaze. Kaila turned back to Rickard. “What does it mean when you say it to Pavel? Your voice sounds very different than when you use it for me.”

Rickard blushed. In the dark, lit by a brilliant moon, she easily saw the wash of hot color flood his pale features. She wished she hadn’t asked.

Long after she’d given up hope of an answer, Rickard whispered, “Heart’s home.”

“Ohhhhhh.” Breath going out of her on a sigh, Kaila lowered her head back on Pavel’s chest. For some reason, she felt like crying. “That sounds beautiful. I have never been…”

Pavel’s arms tightened about her, cutting off her forlorn statement. “You are mine, drouch. You are my heart and my home.” He spoke so close to her ear, the wind of his words brushed her ear causing her to tremble. His voice, gruff and low, touched her soul.

She pulled his head down to hers, meeting his mouth with open heart and lips. The dark ecstasy of his kiss ran through her like napalm, detonating erotic explosions that flamed at her nipples and clit. The resultant burn had her thighs clenching together in urgent need.

“Take me home. I need you to fuck me again.”

Rickard’s hand joined Pavel’s at her back. “What of me, Kaila? Darkness still covers the world. This night is not over and it still belongs to me…”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, eyes widening as she took in his expectant expression.

As he had done to her, she delayed her answer until the hope in Rickard’s pale silvery blue eyes began to fade. “You are our beloved one. Desired one, come to our bed. Come and fuck us.”

“Us…?” Pavel and Rickard spoke in unison, their questioning voices synced.

She nodded, smiling. “When you are both inside me, the two of you can touch, loving each other as you love me.”

They came together with unhurried touches, long, lush kisses and it was all the more powerful because of the gentleness. Tongues caressed, hands soothed, mouths shared until the two men could no longer hold back.

This time, Pavel lubed his cock to ease his entry, sliding his demonically thick length inside her with slow easy thrusts that soon had her arching in blissful surrender. “Now, Rickard,” he urged gruff-voiced. “Join us.”

Kaila glanced over her shoulder to see Rickard preparing himself. The absence of a condom bothered her for a moment until Pavel’s warm mental reassurance eased her concerns.

Except with me, he’s never gone without a condom. He’s clean and so are you. As for me, wulves don’t have, nor can we transmit human diseases.

Pavel hadn’t based his earlier demand that Rickard use a condom on the threat of disease. He was simply too possessive of her to allow another male -- even Rickard -- to spend inside her pussy without protection. She found she loved the idea of accepting no one’s seed but his, so as she waited for the prince to prepare her, she stretched up and kissed Pavel.

I love you so much, love the way you feel inside me, filling me up, making me burn.

Not half as much as I love you for accepting me, accepting this. Pavel looked beyond her to where Rickard knelt behind Kaila. He’s almost ready for you, baby. Remember to relax. Relax and enjoy.

Rickard warmed the lube between his hands and worked it into her tiny puckered sphincter with firm yet gentle touches. He applied a generous dollop to his stiff erection, slathering his cock good. Fitting the slippery blunt head against her quivering entry, he rolled his hips, pushing in.

The broad rounded tip punched through the puckered slit and Kaila’s head snapped back on her neck. She hissed through her teeth at the pain shooting up her spine. “Hurts!”

Rickard paused, waiting for her to adjust. He rubbed her lower back, his husky voice murmuring encouragement. “You forgot to push out. Push out, Kaila, and let me all the way in.” His hand dropped to her clit and circled.

Lending another layer of distraction, Pavel palmed her breasts, fingers tweaking her stiff nipples. Groaning, he pulled her torso down to his lips, replacing his hands with his mouth. He slurped at her crests with carnal hunger. “I love your rigid little nipples,” he growled, voice gone thready. “They’re like hard candy drops that don’t melt in my mouth.”

Above her, Rickard gripped her ass cheeks, fingers sinking into the full mounds as his cock squeezed through the tight elastic mouth of her anus. He held still for a moment, letting her adjust.

Below her, Pavel rocked up and she felt his thick penis filling her pussy, felt him rubbing his cock along Rickard’s through the thin membrane separating her pussy and anus. Cocooned in their arms, impaled on their cocks, Kaila moaned, loving the decadent sensations.

“Kaila.”

She opened her eyes and glanced down to find Pavel’s eyes burning with that incandescent glow that presaged his change. She shuddered, catching fire from the excitement flaring in his hot gaze. “Y-yes?”

“The next time we fuck, I’m going to put your luscious nipples in clamps.”

The idea shocked her, titillated her imagination. “Oh, God, Pavel…!”

“I’ll clamp your clit…let it pinch while I eat your pussy.” He grinned. “You just gushed all over me, so I know you like the sound of that idea.”

Rickard’s cock jerked in the hot confines of her ass. He chimed in with a groaning laugh. “Damn it, Pavel, my damned cock likes the sound, too. It’s gone hard as stone.”

He pulled out of her clinging passage only to slam into her ass so fiercely his balls slapped the skin below her vagina. Grunting, he began fucking her hard, forcing every long thick inch of his cock up her tight next-to-virginal rectum. With each inward thrust, he forced her down on Pavel’s cock, lifted her up as he pulled out.

“I’d give anything to see her in your clamps. God, I can just imagine those big tits of hers adorned in a nipple chain. You should buy her a diamond and peridot set to match your eyes.”

“Good idea!” Pavel grunted. “Would you like that, Kaila?” His hands rose to her breasts. His fingers pinched her nipples until she flinched from the small pain, then soothed them with his tongue. “Would you like to be adorned in my colors? I’ll order a full set. A clit clamp attached to two nipple rings joined by a chain so every move you make you’ll feel them as if my hands were touching you, keeping you ready for me.”

Kaila’s belly muscles cramped with excitement. Pleasure sizzled and fizzed like champagne bubbles in her blood, turning her into a wild woman. Her womb clenched, spilling slick cream. Her pussy and ass clamped down on the cocks shuttling in and out her tight channels as she screamed an enthusiastic yes.

Gentleness gave way to urgency. Rickard and Pavel banged her furiously, each man fucking into her, sinking in, withdrawing with a smooth, cadenced, coordination that had her frantic to come. Each time they buried their cocks in her, their balls slapped against each other and both men groaned in erotic agony.

“Knot her, Pavel!” Rickard demanded, hips pistoning so fast the passage of his cock was a constant burn in her ass. “Wedge your cock all the way in and knot her so I can feel you!”

Pavel bared his fangs. Curses streamed from his mouth. Like verbal silk, the liquid sounding vowels of his native language poured over her. Grabbing her hips, he ground her down on his cock, lifted her up, and slammed her down again in a show of otherworldly strength.

Rickard clung to her back, long arms slung around her torso, hands palming her breasts as he rode out Pavel’s storm. He pinched her nipples between his fingers as his cock continued to burrow deep in her dark, secret channel. “Do it! I want to come with you!”

With a shout, Pavel began releasing short bursts of semen in her vagina, the slippery ejaculate helping his cock penetrate to the thick root. Her pussy stretched around the knot forming at the base of his cock, the fit almost too tight for comfort.

Kaila exploded into a series of jagged orgasms that curled her toes and arched her spine. Cries spilled from her, helpless pleas that they fuck her harder, deeper as she crested wave after crashing wave of ecstasy reveling in being at the mercy of two heavenly, relentless cocks.

“That’s right…” Rickard hissed, his big cock digging, digging deep in her anus. “Fuck us, Pavel! Come in her! I want to feel your seed blasting the walls of her cunt!”

His growled words had her climbing another glittering edge and Kaila couldn’t do a damned thing other than hang there, suspended on steel-hard cocks between rock-hard abdomens -- a wondrous, devilish place. He reached that sweet spot where the stabs of pain piggybacked with sublime pleasure.

Her men were so big, so powerful. The passionate strength of their lusty thrusts had both her entrances burning raw and scalding hot. Pavel’s cock -- squeezed into a space made tinier by the presence of Rickard’s large penis -- was pulverizing her oversensitive pussy. Rickard’s battering ram of an erection pounded the narrow corridors of her newly initiated rectum.

The pleasure-pain was driving her to insanity. Desperate, she pushed her bottom back at Rickard, dragged her jutting nipples through Pavel’s springy chest hair and screamed at them to come.

Moving in tandem, Pavel and Rickard easily shuttled her between them, for all her hefty build, making her body feel light and insubstantial. Both sent a hand questing, fingers meeting at her clit. Both fingered, rubbed, and rolled the small knot of nerves while their hips flexed strongly. With a triumphant cry, Kaila soared, taking flight.

Her milking sheaths rippled along their cocks, calling forth their sperm. A moment later, Pavel and Rickard exploded within her. Harsh cries fell from their lips. Their strong bodies shuddered in her welcoming grasp while they ejaculated jet after jet of hot semen.

Replete for the moment, they fell to the bed in a tangled heap of satiated bodies.

Later, cleaned and ready to sleep, Kaila lay between them, chuckling. Pavel leaned up to peer down at her. “What’s so funny?”

“I’m a Simon and Garfunkel song.”

His puzzled look sent her off into gales of laughter. “‘Bridge over Troubled Water.’”

Pavel still didn’t get it, though she thought Rickard did. She reached for both men’s groin, took a cock in each hand. “I’m Rickard’s bridge to his heart’s home.”

“Thank you.”

She looked over to find tears in Rickard’s eyes. Turning to Pavel she ordered, “Quick, while the night is still his…kiss him.”

The men met over her, male mouths meshing in a kiss so beautifully emotional it brought tears to her eyes. Love, immeasurable and boundless flowed between them through the link, unselfish and unfettered. Eons passed and when at last they parted, Pavel’s green eyes swam behind a shining wall of moisture.

She thought she heard him murmur a quiet good-bye but she wasn’t sure and didn’t have time to ponder it with both Pavel and Rickard bending over her, taking turns to invade her mouth with kisses just as hot and loving as the one they’d just shared. Their cocks lengthened and firmed in her hands and she let go with a panicked gasp, shaking her head “no” and meaning it. “I’m not just saying no, guys, but a great big adamant hell no! My ass and pussy are way too sore.”

With rueful sighs and murmurs of what sounded to her like grudging sympathy, Pavel dropped butterfly-soft kisses on her cheeks. Whispering, “My drouch, I love you,” he spooned her back against his furred chest, cradling her breasts in his rough palms.

Rickard snuggled up to her front, one arm going over her waist to include Pavel in his sleepy hug. Leaning close enough she could see the moisture gleaming in his eyes, he kissed her deeply, passionately. Finally, he pulled back, one finger brushing her full bottom lip. “I wish this night would never end. When the dawn breaks…so will my heart.”

“Oh, Rickard…” Kaila hurt for him, but she wouldn’t encourage his maudlin brooding. “You’ll find someone to love, and laugh when you look back on this. Believe me, I’m not all sweetness and light. Ask Pavel. He’ll tell you I’m not the easiest person to live with.”

Pavel’s gravelly voice sounded in the darkness. “She’s telling the truth. I love her dearly, but Goddess knows she can sure act ugly.”

She elbowed him for his trouble, muttering, “Thanks for nothing, you turd!”

She felt Rickard’s quiet laugh all along her front. “Perhaps I’d better settle for kissing cousins, after all.”

“Kisses are a good way to shut her up, that’s for sure.”

“All right, guys, that’s it!”

Muffled male laughter had her shaking her head.

“You two are just like kids.” Kaila grasped Rickard’s softened cock, reached back and found Pavel’s still hard penis. With gentle pressure, she tugged them closer by her grip on their cocks and snuggled up to the warmth given off by their big bodies. “Now cut it out and go to sleep. Tomorrow is already here and you two need to be on your game.”

A second later she thought about what she’d just said and smothered her own smile. “Hell, if I didn’t have two stiff dicks in my hands, I could pass for a den mother!”

 

Flirting With Fire

 

The predawn was a shimmering purple haze smearing the rim of the world. Streaks of blackness still edged the golden clouds of sunrise as the plane raced on toward the small isolated tropical island of Paradise. Aricles unbuckled his seatbelt and glanced across the aisle at his quiet companion.

It didn’t take a Greek demigod to know something about her latest vision had disturbed Indigo. On second thought, maybe it did. When she had risen on shaking knees to make her unsteady way to the bathroom, he’d ached for her, wishing he knew how to help her. Being a demigod of lust didn’t give him much insight in matters not pertaining to the flesh.

Earlier, he’d thought she needed time alone more than she needed his sympathy, so he’d pretended to be preoccupied with his music. Now he wasn’t so sure his decision had been the right one. Instead of trying to spare her feelings, maybe he should have made her open up, share with him what was troubling her so much.

He knew when she became aware of him watching her, for her somber expression lightened and those long legs uncurled. She sat up and faced him, batting her miles long lashes at him.

Indigo was a multimorph, a shape-shifter not confined to one particular animal or thing. Over the years they’d worked together, Aricles had seen her take on numerous forms…and hold them for days. He’d thought he’d seen all of her preferred disguises, but this one was new to him.

Silvery blonde wisps of hair feathered her cheeks and nape, giving her a gamin look belied by the full womanly curves of the long-legged body seated across the aisle from him. He noted in passing the pale blue eyes, a full three shades lighter than her usual cerulean, twinkling at him, engrossed by the impressive display of double D mounds, plump and firm, barely restrained by the pale green form-hugging camisole.

He swallowed sickly. This wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be responding like this. Not to Indigo.

“Why the disguise? Who do you plan to distract today?”

“I’m not sure. I’m following my instincts here.” She primped a little, smoothing her hands over her abundant bust line and flashed a set of pearly whites. The gamin grin stretched full pink lips. “Do you like what you see?”

He easily saw through her act. Of all the members of their team, he was closest to Indigo. She was a lot like him, aloof, never allowing anyone to get too close. Aricles knew what she suffered whenever her visions went wrong. Being a precog was not easy. Having knowledge of the future was a heavy burden. No matter how she tried, no matter what she learned, more times than not any attempt at changing the events proved futile. Often, she had to face the disappointment or accusations of people she tried to help. It was a thankless job.

Aricles gave a soft laugh at her antics. “I like you in all your guises, little sis, but I hope you did not don this particular face and body to impress me. So I ask again, who are you and why?”

She dropped her playful demeanor and became all business. “How much do you know about this situation?”

Aricles gathered his thoughts. “I know there’s been a murder of a human by a wulf. No witnesses, no evidence other than signs the killer had moved the half-eaten corpse from the place where death occurred. Other than that, Hunter didn’t have time to fill me in before I left, since he was on his way to an urgent meeting and I had to hurry to meet you at the plane. Circumstances precluded receiving our usual briefing. He said only that the Alpha in charge would bring us up to speed on arrival.”

She nodded. “Much of the info I have was what my vision revealed. The island we’re approaching belongs to the ruling prince of Drestovia, Rickard Orloffberg. It’s the setting for his new health spa, Sated Pleasures. They’re using a new twist on weight loss. Sex.”

Aricles felt his eyebrows rising. He couldn’t control the wide grin that took over his face. “What kinds of sex…?”

Indigo shook her head at his response. “Lots of sex.”

“That’s the best kind!”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“What?” He tried for an innocent look.

“You can cut the act, Ari.” She tried to hide her grin. “It really doesn’t matter what breed you are, all you men are alike.”

He dramatically placed hand over heart. “You wound me. Would you condemn us because we all like sex?”

“No, because you all think sex is the answer for everything.”

“Being a demigod of lust, I happen to know that isn’t so, but I find the concept intriguing. I would be interested in finding out how successful the program is proving. Meanwhile, fascinating as all this might be” -- he trained a stern eye on his protégé -- “why don’t you stop changing the subject. Stick to the report.”

She grimaced. “Sorry. Where was I?”

Aricles grinned. “I believe we were engaged in sex.”

“Of course, how could I forget?” Shooting him a teasing glance, she answered her own question with a tongue-in-cheek, “Must have been those boring orgasms.”

He graciously overlooked her sarcasm.

“The spa is designed to be an intimate environment, catering to no more than fifteen clients at a time. The women or men pay an exorbitant amount of money. For that privilege, they receive strict monitoring of their daily activities, and when indicated, punishment or reward for missing or making their goals. Needless to say, these are people from the higher echelons of society, able to take two months from their normal lives in order to become slim and trim.”

“When you say exorbitant, what exactly are we speaking of?”

She chewed a corner of her bottom lip. Watching any other woman mauling juicy pink flesh like that, would have proved too tempting to pass up. That the thought even crossed his mind disturbed him. Aricles did not think of Indigo in such terms. He almost missed her next words.

“Oh, I’d say in the vicinity of five hundred thousand dollars a pop. There’s no sliding scale.”

The number surprised him and he pursed his lips in a soundless whistle. “Half a million dollars is pretty steep for a fat farm.”

Indigo nodded. “Sated Pleasures is not your average calorie counting community. Here one can enjoy total anonymity, be pampered and indulged, encouraged and fucked by the hottest men either side of Chippendales. Throw in a get-out-of-pregnancy-free card, freeing you to enjoy all the clean, unprotected sex you can handle, administered by said males (did I mention all the staff are werewulves?), and you’ve got what most women would call paradise.”

“Only women…?”

“See, that’s what I love about you Ari…always thinking about the guys.”

That got a laugh. No doubt, as she’d intended. “Look where your mind is, missy. And don’t call me Ari. I’m not into guys, as you know, however. I meant, are there only female patrons?”

“This time around, I think, yes. I believe this was the test group -- the shakedown session. But it is a female-driven market, which I’m sure Orloffberg has taken into consideration.”

Aricles gave another whistle. “First time out, huh? Tough luck for it to fall out like it did, then. Murdered clients can break an operation like a high society spa.”

“In most cases, I’d agree with you. With Orloffberg at the helm, I’ll wait to see what occurs. If he stays true to form, he’ll pull this off and come out smelling like caviar while someone else would stink of fish eggs.”

She sobered. “The vision changes every time I relive it. It’s showing me possibilities, which tells me we might be able to affect this future. Sometimes it’s set in stone, but this time, it’s malleable. In each one, though, somebody close to me…dies. Or at least, that’s what it looks like.”

That alarmed him. “Someone close to you…?”

“Relax, you don’t die. Well, in a way you do” -- she paused, pushed shaking fingers through her already wild hair -- “see, at the moment, there are three possible futures. In one, our relationship undergoes a change when we disagree over how to manage this assignment. We become estranged, so in a sense, you die. In another, the murderer targets someone I’ve fallen in love with. I’m there when it happens, but the vision didn’t show if I’m somehow to blame. Is the killer’s motive payback or expediency? The third scenario is the one where I die.”

Aricles frowned. The thought of not having her in his life wasn’t one he wanted to dwell on. “Numbers one and three are not acceptable to me. How feasible is number two?”

The corner of her mouth lifted in a half smile. “None of them are acceptable to me, especially not the one where I die. And for the record, Ari, using innocent bystanders to win the day goes against the NHP Mission Statement.”

“Anyone you fall in love with would probably run screaming at the word ‘innocent.’ And don’t call me Ari.” Seeing his absentminded correction had the same effect as always, he ignored her outthrust tongue to ask another question. “So what’s our game plan?”

Her luscious breasts lifted in an artful shrug. “The usual song and dance, I guess…gather the info needed to apprehend the murderer and save the day with minimal fireworks since we’ll be operating around flat-footed norms. Keeping the humans unaware is almost a higher priority than catching this rogue.”

Aricles managed, just barely, not to fidget in his seat. His brows lowered in sudden suspicion. “Indi, are you playing around with pheromones? Because for some reason, I’m having some hellacious reactions to the juicy body you’re wearing.”

To his inner shock, he surprised an expression of guilt in her eyes just before she lowered her lids, evading his glance. A wash of hot color started at her creamy shoulders, flowed over her face and then receded, leaving her pale and shaking. She glanced up at him in helpless confusion. If he hadn’t caught that glimpse of conniving, he might have bought her act.

His jaw hardened, eyes narrowed. “Don’t bother trying to trick me. You don’t want to walk down this road. Whatever you’re doing, shut it off,” he snapped, not caring how harsh his voice sounded.

Her eyebrows rose in disdainful query. “Just what is it I’m supposed to be doing to you, Ari?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you.”

“Some god you are…oh, wait, that’s right! Your power is lust, not omniscience.”

He didn’t appreciate her sarcasm. “If you weren’t the second in command of the NHP, I’d be tempted to spank your ornery butt. You know the danger of tempting me. Your playful antics could backfire. I haven’t had time to arrange a session with my usual woman and I haven’t indulged for quite some while. Now is not a good time.”

He stopped, ran agitated fingers through his thick hair and cursed when the clinging curls snagged his fingertips. Damned unruly stuff. Cutting it off would be a waste of time since it always grew right back in. Immortality meant never having to be bald.

“Indi, you’ve always been like a sister, but there’s no blood between us to protect you. If you would remain as a sister to me, do not play female games with me. I couldn’t be casual with you. If I fucked you I’d have to touch you, kiss you…and there’d be no going back once I did.”

Her face stilled even more at his words, and Aricles had a moment’s regret for his harsh stance. It pained him to do it, but she had to know, had to understand the danger she courted trying to awaken his desires.

As a demigod of lust, he was no gentle lover, no Eros to court a woman with hearts and flowers. He was a sexual dominant who took his sex rough and raunchy. Playing with him would get her more than burnt.

Indigo didn’t answer, kept her chin tucked tight to her chest. What he could see of her face was tinted an embarrassing red.

A heavy sigh gusted from him as Aricles’s heart twisted in his chest. He hated hurting her like this, but he couldn’t take the chance she might be softening toward him. He did love her, and therein lay the problem.

He was a loner by choice. When your touch causes uncontrollable lust, you quickly learn to keep to yourself. Over the years, she’d breeched his formidable defenses. He’d been able to allow it only because she had asked nothing more of him than to be like a brother. He might be immortal, but it would kill him if he harmed her. Better the small hurt in warning than the devastation of unrequited love.

“Indigo…” He sighed again. “Look, I’m sorry. You know how much I love you, but you and I, we could never…” He broke off, cursing his insensitivity as the sound of her choked cries reached across the aisle. “Great Zeus, Indigo…please don’t cry!”

“Oh, God, you’re such an arrogant asshole!” She gasped between chortles, her face turning a bright red with suppressed mirth toward him. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she rolled about in the seat, howling with laughter. “Thank goodness I’m not in love with you.”

He crossed his arms to keep from snatching her up and swatting her bottom. “Childish imp!”

She sat up and swiped at her eyes, a leftover hiccupping giggle occasionally overcoming her. “I tried…I really did. I figured that if I was in lust with you, I couldn’t very well fall in love with anyone else. The thought of going to bed with you felt too much like incest, though. I couldn’t go through with it. Then you started spouting your warnings and threats and…” She went off in another peel of laughter.

He didn’t find the situation amusing.

Indigo wound down after a while, wiping the tears from her cheek. “Oh, lighten up, somber one. You’ll become a bore if you’re not careful. Remember, Ari, everyone needs a little laughter in his or her life.”

“Life is not a laughing matter,” he said, and then winced. Even to him, his words sounded pompous and arrogant.

“Ha! Thank goodness, your future mate won’t agree with you on that score. You deserve every single thing she’s going to put you through.”

Indigo’s visions were dead on. Sure as the sun rose in Zeus’s sky, when she saw something, it happened. He sat up, heart thumping, startled at how much her words affected him, how much he wanted to believe her. “I have a mate? You’ve seen her…? Who is she? Where is she? What does she look like?”

Unholy glee lit up in her light blue eyes. “Yep, yep! Nunya. Ditto and ditto!”

He scowled and wondered why he wasted the effort. He’d never impressed her with his wrath or his bad humors. “What does that mean?”

She ticked the points off on her fingers. “Yep, you’ve got one and I’ve seen her. Nunya business who she is, and that goes ditto for where she’s at and what she looks like.”

He hadn’t given thought to having a life mate, pretty much concluded his curse would rule out having a woman of his own. Now that Indigo said he had one, he found himself eager to know all about her. That Indigo decided to be closed-mouthed today of all days made him livid. He imbued his voice with power and barked, “I demand you give me the information I seek!”

She responded with a loud guffaw. “Jeesh, Aricles…that crap work for you much? Man, talk about tricks! You can cut out the super male stuff. It doesn’t work on me.”

“Damn it to Hades’ realms!” He shrugged, reverting to normal. “It worked for Madonna. Why won’t you tell me?”

“Contrary to the song, she’s nothing like a virgin. If I told you, you’d only use the information to armor yourself against her. I want her to win. You need what she’ll bring to your life.”

“Is there doubt? Haven’t you seen the conclusion?”

Indigo sobered, shook her head. “I’ve seen some of the antics she puts you through. I’ve seen some mighty hot, kinky loving… Dude, you are seriously hung!” She waggled her brows à la Groucho Marks.

“Peeking?”

“It’s the nature of several of my beasts, actually.” She smirked.

The thought of her seeing him doming a sub shook him up. Younger sisters -- even one savvy and world wise as Indigo -- should be sheltered from some things. “What else did you see, besides my cock?”

“That wasn’t enough?” Indigo drew two fingers across her lips. “My lips are sealed.”

He tapped his foot. Outside, the clouds darkened, thickened.

“Ari, it was no big thing…after a while.” She giggled. When he didn’t smile and lightning slashed through the now dark sky, she sighed. “I honestly didn’t see all that much.” She flung up her hand at his scowling face, laughing. “That one was unintentional. I meant your mate’s reaction. I didn’t see much of that, but she seemed okay with being tied up and eh…all the other things you were doing to her. You, on the other hand, were…” She broke off, looking distracted. “Hey, Aricles…you’re glowing.”

He felt a familiar tingling, glanced down at his body and back up at her. He didn’t have much time. “I must be time-walking, but why here? Why now?”

She stared at him with eyes so wide, the whites totally surrounded the blue. Her pupils were tiny dots of inky black, her skin paper pale with drops of sweat beading her brow.

He rose, moved to the center of the aisle. Stood there with his arms hanging loose and relaxed at his sides. “Don’t be frightened, I doubt you’re in danger right now or I wouldn’t have chosen this time to contact you. Listen carefully to whatever…ah…I say and follow the instructions I give you to the letter. It will be a warning.” He saw her nod just before the golden sparkly effect shut down his sight and disrupted reality.

No matter how many times he experienced the time displacement anomaly from this side of the equation, he continued to find the process fascinating.

A shimmering cocoon of golden light covered his body, held him immobile as the far wall of the plane rippled like water disturbed by a skipping stone. Indigo leaped out of her seat and scrambled away from the wavering bulkhead, astonishment written all over her drawn facial features. She said something he couldn’t catch, her voice weirdly distorted by the fluctuating winking of time and space.

Smiling inwardly, he watched himself step through the rip in reality, marveling at the seeming ease with which he accomplished that feat. With a detached calm available to him only in this suspended state, he took note of his other self’s appearance.

The god’s chiseled features bore the classic stamp of ancient Greece. Six feet, seven inches tall, he was -- according to countless women -- the epitome of male beauty. His inky black curls tumbled across a broad, high forehead. Slashing brows shaded crystalline blue eyes and a classic nose -- faultlessly straight -- slashed its way between sharply defined cheekbones, lending his face a long, patrician cast.

His future self paused on the threshold, looked in his direction before making his way over to Indigo. He took her hands in his and gave her a brotherly kiss on the cheek, causing Aricles to gasp in alarm. To his surprise, Indi did not fall into instant lust, but seemed to engage the traveler in earnest conversation. Apparently, when time-walking, the curse of flesh did not operate. Chronos had attempted to explain it to him. His vulnerable body was somewhere else while he traipsed through the dimensions. Though appearing solid, he was more like a hologram. He could touch and be touched without adverse consequences.

Damn, wish I could do that in the real world. Frozen while his future self occupied the same time, unable to do anything but observe, Aricles refused to give in to bitterness.

Future Aricles finished his business and, after a quick nod in his direction, left the plane the same way he’d arrived, through the portal opened in time. The solid sheet of dancing light surrounding him thinned, dissolved, and suddenly light and sound rushed in, inundating Aricles with sensory bombardment.

He flinched, flinging up an arm to block the light from his sensitive eyes. The roar of the plane’s engines, even the sound of Indigo’s breathing were loud, garish sounds, threatening to overwhelm him.

“You okay?” A tentative hand on his sleeve helped him focus. A soft voice at his ear anchored him in this time stream’s reality as he recognized Indigo’s familiar scent.

His nod garnered him a bracing pat and a small bottle of water, which he uncapped and quaffed immediately. “Good. Why haven’t you ever told me you could walk through time?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but her eager words rolled over his slight pause.

“I mean, yes, you do that instantaneous teleporting, but the time thing is totally wicked.” She cocked her head, studied him through sharp, curious eyes. “I’ve gotten so used to you, gotten too familiar with how you mask a portion of your power, I forget your background.”

She shook her head in a slow, side-to-side motion, not a negation…but more as if she could not fathom what she saw. “When something like this occurs, I remember how truly awesome you are.”

Her words of praise and admiration made him uneasy, compliments not being the usual conversational medium bandied between them. “I am the same as always.”

She made a smiling grimace. “I know. And five minutes from now, I’ll probably be busting your chops about your asinine attitude, but for now, allow me a brief second of: Wow!”

He grinned, knowing exactly how his next actions would kill her momentary hero worship. Spreading his arms wide, he intoned in his most godly voice, “By all means, worship Me, My child. Fall to your knees before My majesty!”

Indigo’s reaction was better than he’d anticipated.

Mouth falling open, she glared at him a moment in speechless ire. Then, a sly expression settling over her face, she allowed her eyes to drift closed. She moaned softly. Reminiscent of the oracles of Delphi, drunk on the fumes of the gods, she swayed side-to-side; she let her head rock listlessly on her willowy neck. She spoke in a slurred monotone voice. “Your greatness has flung me into a vision. Yesssss, my lord. I can see…I can see” -- her eyes snapped open -- “all that crap you just suggested never happening!”

They both laughed. Aricles was grateful for the moment of levity. Only with Indigo, did he completely relax. Fear of losing that comfort had fueled his earlier strong reaction when he’d thought she was deliberately coming on to him.

His ties with the other members of the NHP weren’t so close. Yes, he’d shared the occasional joke or woman with Gregori Vlasavic, but he dared not risk the same level of play with Vlasavic he could with Indi. Gregori was bisexual. The centuries-old vampire was also accustomed to getting what he wanted and for the moment, he wanted Aricles. Even older and just as spoiled, Aricles was adamant that wasn’t going to happen. They walked a constant tightrope precariously stretched between friendship and confrontation.

The dinging of the warning alert and the seatbelt light coming on dragged him from his somber thoughts. Aricles shifted, felt for his seatbelt, and fastened it. A second later, the captain’s calm voice sounded over the intercom. “Kyrios Aricles and Ms. Carter, we are on final approach to Paradise Island. The landing strip is shorter than standard and might require sharp braking, so please secure all loose articles and remain in your seats until after the plane comes to a complete stop and the seatbelt lights go out.”

“Cliff is so by-the-book isn’t he?” Indigo chuckled, exchanging a laughing glance with Aricles. “No matter how many times he’s flown us, we get the same old spiel every time. It doesn’t matter that you could step out of this plane and hover on air, while I’m a multimorph, capable of changing into a cushion. Course, I’d be a squashed cushion on landing, but I think I’d survive.”

Her eyes twinkled. Watching her, laughing with her, he wished he were free to touch her skin-to-skin, to exchange a kiss instead of the impersonal hugs they settled for -- freedom his time-walking self displayed.

Damn Apollo to Hades, his infernal jealous curse has deprived me of the most basic joy. Because some woman long dust preferred me to him, I must be forever denied the simple pleasure of another’s loving touch. Speaking of my time-walking…

“What did my future self tell you?”

The joy bled from her face, leaving her eyes starkly flat. Her low voice was devoid of life as she whispered, “You told me to keep it to myself. Said if I revealed the knowledge too soon, I’d set events in motion that would change the lives of five people. If it were just me, I’d take the chance. It’s a tiny thing, in the scheme of things; however, I’ll err on the side of caution.”

The aisle wasn’t that wide. Aricles reached his gloved hand across the narrow space, offering what comfort he could. Her hand gripped his, the clasp of the deceptively dainty fingers stronger than one would expect.

“When the time comes, I’ll be there for you.”

One corner of her lips turned up, the half smile enchantingly sad while it lasted. “Yes, you will.”

Their hands parted and both gave their attention to other things. Aricles pondered the recent events, wondering what about this assignment merited his timely interference. Time-walking was not a task one undertook lightly. It required disrupting reality and rippling the time stream. Besides taking a certain level of psychic energy, it drained a lot out of a person. Depending on when in time he did it, he’d soon be paying for the outlay of energy.

The strange thing about manipulating time was having to deal with the paradox equation. The one time he spoke to Chronos about it, his head ached for a month. The elder god had explained, or tried to. He came away knowing the reason his present self would always be bound and helpless while his future self coexisted on the same line, was to protect the continuity of reality. Aricles had stopped Father Time in the middle of his explanation. As far as he was concerned, it was like electricity. He didn’t have to know how it worked to use it.

Still, he continued to worry about what would occur to make him do something so risky. He couldn’t help thinking it might have something to do with Indigo’s visions. Only then did he realize she’d sidetracked him adroitly. She’d never finished telling him the details of her vision regarding his life mate.

Connections: Past and Present

 

Desperate moans and soft, drowsy sighs brought Rickard abruptly awake. A second later, the sweet musky aroma of feminine arousal set his nostrils quivering. He might not be a wulf like his friend Pavel, but his senses were almost as acute, and the rich, heady smell of Kaila’s dripping pussy soon had his balls aching and his cock stirring.

The low, husky masculine growls rumbling in the quiet morning air twisted his heart into knots. Pavel always had been a two-timer morning man.

Rickard turned on his side, eased up on his elbow and cradled his head in his palm. His eyes met Pavel’s and he nodded. An amused grin curled his lips when his faithful friend lifted his face from between Kaila’s legs and bared his fangs at him, silently daring him to interfere.

Chuckling, Rickard raised one eyebrow in regal reproof. His right hand lowered to cup his balls and he gently massaged the full orbs as he mouthed, “Stop growling at your sovereign and carry on!”

Shifting aside, his smile faded as he watched his best friend return to tongue-fucking his newly mated plus-sized woman.

Kaila lay belly down on the bed, shoulders resting on the silky duvet, her dark, cushiony hips propped high by a mound of fluffy white pillows. Her curvy black womanly body, arched in carnal tension, was a glorious, cock-raising sight. Rickard, gaze locked on the two lovers, fisted his firming penis, gasping at the sharp spike of lust streaking up through his balls.

Pavel’s broad shoulders held her legs splayed open, revealing the lush red meat of her pussy and above that, the tight, darker brown pucker of her succulent asshole. Rickard licked dry lips, recalling the torrid heat and viselike grip of that delicious little hole squeezing his dick. If his cock had been equipped with lungs, her intimate grasp would have suffocated them last night.

An inward sigh shuddered through him. Too bad, he’d never have another full-body go at Kaila. The only way that could happen would be by personal invitation from the both of them or for Pavel to die, two instances unlikely in the extreme. Despite having enjoyed being the juicy dark meat in their white bread sandwich, Kaila really wasn’t into triad sex.

As for Pavel dying…he was a wulf with a life span -- barring some brutal accident -- far greater than Rickard’s. Besides, he’d rather give up sex than suffer the loss of his friend. And that was saying a lot, seeing how much he adored every aspect of the sex act.

Kaila head was turned to the side, facing him. Her rioting curls obscured most of her face and Rickard saw she’d squeezed her eyes and lips tight, fighting the urge to give full voice to the emotions surging through her. Her muffled wails leaked from her full lips, her fingers clawed the sheets as Pavel’s mouth pushed her up the steep slope of a jagged orgasm. She must still think him asleep.

Knowing how she would react, Rickard couldn’t resist leaning in to taste her mouth as her body jolted under the erotic tongue-lashing Pavel was administering. This sharing -- the kiss of peace -- was his right. With a delicate finesse, he sent his tongue as his emissary, licking at her full lips, begging for entry.

Kaila’s eyes flew open, their vague expression giving way to momentary horror. Rickard’s smile widened. The startled, panicked look on Kaila’s face as she registered his leering gaze had him biting back a hearty laugh. She was still such an innocent, still overly shy about exposing her amply curved body. Taking into consideration her history, he supposed it would take some time, and much loving, for her to overcome her reticence at displaying her abundant charms.

“Give me your tongue, sweet Kaila,” he whispered, dark seduction in his raspy tones.

She blinked, shook her head, folding her lips into a narrow line.

Brushing his lips over her trembling mouth in encouragement, he urged, “You know you want to, want me to suck on your tongue while Pavel is sucking your clit.”

A wash of warm color surged under her smooth café au lait skin as a second, more frenetic headshake stirred the loose curls about her face.

Rickard huffed, drew back to stare down at her, his emotions doing an unruly dance within him. He was a ruling prince, not used to refusal. That she would refuse him and had no qualms about denying him, ruffled his princely feathers. “It is my right.”

She smirked, gasped a little in response to what Pavel was doing to her. “Eat me!”

He raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “What, and displace your wulf?” Rickard glanced over her shoulder to find Pavel’s spring green eyes twinkling with loving amusement. “Vassal, your mate refuses your prince the kiss of peace. What say you?”

Pavel lifted his face from between her legs, mouth and chin shiny with her slippery juices. His wulven tongue emerged, lapping at the residue in a lazy curl of hot pink muscle. For a moment, he looked more cat than wulf as he savored the essence of his true-bond mate. He cocked his head and regarded Kaila with a sexy mischievous grin.

“As captain of the royal guard, I cannot condone insurrection against the throne’s offer of pleasure.”

The gruff bass chuckle rumbling in that muscular chest had things tightening low in Rickard’s belly. Gods, he still loved the man, would probably never stop loving him, regardless of the futility of his unrequited emotion. It was moments like this…when Pavel allowed his playful nature free rein, revealing the youthful companion of earlier years that Rickard loved him most.

Eyes sparkling, Pavel brought his open palm down on Kaila’s naked rump, startling both his mate and Rickard. His other hand gripped her upper left thigh, holding her in place as he rose up to kneel between her legs. “He’ll keep your mouth occupied while I deal with this pretty kitty,” he crooned, plunging three thick fingers past her swollen labia. “Open, beloved…to both of us.”

A needy wail split the air as Kaila’s lower body convulsed, spine arching as Pavel withdrew his fingers, wedged his huge erection at the mouth of her sex, and plunged deep and hard into her welcoming body.

Rickard’s tongue slid in as she opened her mouth, captured her tongue…suckled it hard and rhythmically. One hand released its death grip on the covers to fist in the hair knotted at his nape. She tugged him closer, deeper into the kiss, and with her acceptance the mutual mental connection between the three opened up.

With his mental eye, Rickard saw three gleaming cords twined together. No, two of the cords were interwoven; their braided strand thicker and denser than the solitary silvery thread that he somehow knew represented his mind in the link. His silvery cord connected along the outside of the others, looping around them, nowhere intersecting them. The other two threads blended in a cohesive bond, while his seemed haphazard at best.

The knowledge that Pavel now shared a closer, tighter bond with Kaila was one his brain had accepted but his heart had repudiated…until now. Rickard could no longer deny what his soul recognized as truth. Pavel belonged to Kaila, now and forever. The two were one, even without the Pack bonding ceremony.

Fast on the heels of that painful realization came another. He had to cut Pavel loose, sever their bond completely. The very thought cut into his heart like the sharpest scalpel, the pain of his decision so great it felt like he was dying.

Stay with us…

They spoke as one, both voices blended so perfectly, Rickard knew they were in one accord.

It’s not right. I shouldn’t be here, in this private place with you.

This is your place, too. You are pack. Den. Brother.

But not lover…?

They turned and looked behind them. Rickard peeked over their shoulders and saw a door, locked against him. Another place, then, one where he wasn’t welcome.

Not lover after we bond. Never again.

Their answer should have hurt, yet strangely, it didn’t. Feeling lightheaded, giddy with relief, Rickard sent a questing thought. Kissing cousins?

Laughter along the link. Assent. Affirmation.

Kissing family, the two agreed. Family forever.

The phrase triggered an emotion, highlighted a memory. Instantly, Rickard found himself reliving a day long past when Pavel and he had exchanged similar words. He instinctively shared the memory along the link.

 

The two preteen boys stood on Creshval Pointe, as close to the sheer drop off as their nerves could stand. Too far below, the waters of the lake sparkled in the hot afternoon sun, beckoning the two reckless playmates, tempting them to make the forbidden plunge.

“How does it feel when you make your eyes shine like that?”

Pavel shrugged. “I don’t know. Normal. And I don’t make them shine, they just do.”

“Show me how to make my eyes go golden like that!”

“I can’t. My eyes shine because I’m a wulf and yours don’t because you’re just a silly prince.”

“Don’t call me that!”

Pavel giggled. “It’s what you are, silly prince.”

Rickard stomped his foot. “I order you not to call me that, then!”

The younger boy laughed, his light green eyes still glowing hot as the sun in the unclouded sky.” You’re not my prince. I answer only to the Pack Prime and Prima.”

The prince narrowed his eyes, anger and frustration growing. “Maybe not now, but one day you’ll be the Pack Prime. You’ll have to answer to me then, if you want your pack to keep living in Drestovia.”

The laughter went out of the boy’s face, the glow in his eyes dimming, a look older than his years sharpening his compact features. “Silly prince, nobody will follow you if you act like a spoiled brat.”

Rickard’s hands fisted at his side as he fumed, furious over his failure to ruffle his companion’s cool aplomb. Pavel was always calm and collected, always being praised by Rickard’s father, held up as an example for the elder boy. No matter what Rickard did to gain his father’s favor, it was never enough. He never seemed to earn the same easy approval from his father that the crown prince so readily bestowed upon Pavel. “Don’t follow me, then!” he snarled at the younger boy. “Since you don’t want to come behind, you can go before!”

Rickard’s thin, wiry build was deceptive. He was much stronger than his looks suggested. The shove he gave Pavel sent the boy pitching over the precipice, mouth opening wide in shocked surprise. He watched his playmate hurtling in air, horror at his action chilling his blood.

“Pavel!” Without hesitation, Rickard threw himself over the edge after the younger boy, his only thought to somehow catch and cushion the other’s fall.

Below him, Pavel screamed and Rickard knew it was because his friend feared not for himself, but for Rickard’s safety. His heart swelled at this indication of Pavel’s true loyalty even as it raced in terror at the sight of the lake rising fast beneath them.

In midair, Pavel shifted into the wulf form of his people, taking on hair and teeth and tail. Shifted and managed to somehow twist his spine in a painful looking move that had his body facing up for the seconds it took him to snag Rickard out of the air and wrap him in a fur-cushioned embrace.

Together they hit the waters of the lake, the spume of their wake splashing high into the air. Rickard, surrounded and protected by Pavel’s wulven body, barely felt the impact, but the wulf Pavel let out a despairing, pain-filled yowl. The waters of the lake closed over their heads, abruptly cutting off his cries and Rickard’s last thoughts were that he’d never hear the end of it from his father if he managed to get his friend killed and didn’t die alongside him.

He came to sputtering, chest heaving, throwing up water and bile. At his side, Pavel sat hunched over, head hanging down, back and shoulders curled in toward his belly. He looked miserable.

Feeling wretched himself, Rickard flung himself on his back, forearm flung over his eyes. “Pavel…I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” His sopping tunic sleeve muffled the words of his apology, but he was too ashamed to lower his arm and see Pavel’s accusing glance, cringed away from facing the condemnation he richly deserved.

His father was right to judge him unworthy of carrying on the title and the responsibilities of his position. What kind of prince was he, willfully endangering the life of someone under his protection, one of his future subjects? With only the slightest provocation, he’d lost his temper and in a fit of pique, had hurt, almost killed, his only friend.

“Why did you do that?” the young wulf snarled.

Rickard trembled at the angry question. He’d never heard Pavel sound so furious. “I don’t know what made me do such a horrid thing.”

“No.” Pavel touched his hand. When Rickard ignored that, Pavel tugged his arm down, forced him to look at him. Pavel’s eyes glowed a fierce green.

That means he’s angry, then…not ready to change, Rickard thought.

“Why did you jump over after me?”

Rickard shrugged. “I was trying to save you.”

Pavel cocked his head, mouth falling open as he stared at Rickard in disbelief. Even in skin form, he looked like a bewildered puppy. “You idiot…you can’t swim!”

Rickard shrugged again, a sarcastic half grin curling his lips. “No, but I know you’re afraid of heights. I figured if I was falling you’d be too busy trying to save me to realize how far down the lake was.”

Pavel laughed so hard he fell over onto his side. His uncontrollable mirth was so infectious Rickard found himself laughing along with him. The two boys rolled in the grass, their clothes drying in the hot sun.

Finally, Pavel sobered, flung himself flat on his back beside Rickard. Turning to meet the boy’s gaze head on, he shook his head in exasperation. “My liege, you need a keeper!”

Just as solemnly, Rickard nodded. He swallowed as he recalled the terror he’d felt during that free fall dive over the edge of the cliff. “Yes, I realized that, halfway down.” He glanced over at the younger boy, swallowed. “Looks like I found one. Will you be to me what your father is to mine?”

Pavel straightened. Stared at him. “You mean…link with you? Be one?”

Rickard nodded. “Do you want to?”

“We’ll be friends forever, then, like our fathers.”

He offered Pavel his wrist. “Friends forever…”

Pavel shifted enough to sink his fangs into his flesh.

It hurt…

 

Rickard opened his eyes to find Pavel and Kaila looking down on him, twin expressions of concern on their faces.

“Why would you try to sever our bond?” Anger lent a sharp edge to Pavel’s words.

His face wet with tears, Rickard gave a listless shrug. “I don’t belong anymore.”

Pavel frowned. “Or is it because our fathers were not forever friends? He betrayed your father to his death. Do you fear I will do the same?”

Rickard’s jaw dropped. Rage, like nothing he’d ever felt, not even when he’d finally confronted his uncle, seared a path along his nerve endings. How dare Pavel think such about him? Pavel should know he’d never doubt his loyalty, not after all they’d been through together. His head jerked up, mouth opened to hurl invective when his brain caught up with Pavel’s smug expression.

“Rickard, we share a den bond. You became my family that day. When I bit you, we exchanged DNA. There was already wulf blood in your bloodline, as our families have interacted and interbred since the crash landing. Our bond activated that latent DNA. Why else do you think you are rarely ill, look like a man in his early twenties when you are much closer to fifty? Why else do you have such greedy sexual needs…and such stamina?”

They’d had this discussion before.

“Humph! Stop trying to claim my appetite or my stamina is derived from your bite. As I recall, I was a randy boy and had already tossed my share of skirts long before that day on the cliff.”

“You were always precocious in that area!”

“You were barely a teenager yet.” Kaila shuddered, making a face. “Those women were just nasty wenches!”

Her outraged expression had Pavel compressing his lips into a straight line, fighting a grin. He leaned over and smoothed a white-gold hank of hair off Rickard’s forehead, cupped his face in his palms, forcing him to meet his eyes. “At any rate, Kaila and I will both be hurt and insulted if you insist on severing our link. We love you.”

Feeling embarrassed, Rickard subsided, shooting an underbrowed glare toward his wily vassal. “Go ahead,” he prompted resignedly, “say it.”

“Silly prince,” Pavel echoed softly.

For the first time in a heartrending long time, Rickard wasn’t the one to initiate their kiss.

Inner Monsters

 

Five hours later, Pavel stared down at the various forensics reports, feeling sick at heart. The murdered client had been Anita Blakesley-Horn, the one who’d been in his office demanding a change in trainers just the day before. Since Ruff, Travis, and Brandon -- three trainers whose word he trusted -- had already met with him to discuss Delin’s inappropriate behavior, he’d felt no qualms apologizing and assuring her she would be assigned to another trainer immediately.

The horrible truth was that he hadn’t missed the signs of Delin’s unfitness for this job. Looking back, he realized the rogue wulf had been one of the ones he’d targeted as a possible troublemaker during the preliminary orientations. His first inclination had been to send the wulf packing. Instead, he’d decided to give him a chance to prove his initial insubordination had only been nervous high jinks, the nervous reaction to beginning a new job.

Dropping his head into his hands, Pavel groaned, giving vent to the guilt eating him alive, burning like acid in his soul. Anita was dead because of his wrong call. He should have protected her, should have done something…more. The young mother of three would have been alive today if he’d followed through on his instincts.

They didn’t know when or how yet, but it was obvious Delin had killed her. Pavel had suspected it all along and the wulf’s disappearance during the night pretty much confirmed everyone’s doubts.

“Pavel, the plane has landed.”

Pavel jerked upright, body on the alert as he stared toward his office door. Rickard stood there, dressed in what he called casual clothing: a soft Izod T-shirt in pale yellow, tucked into a pair of chocolate Ralph Lauren chino slacks.

Pavel shook his head, trying to clear it. He’d been so immersed in thought he hadn’t heard or smelled his prince’s approach. That wasn’t good. There was a killer on the loose and being distracted wasn’t going to help him apprehend him. He scrubbed at his face with a weary sigh. “Why aren’t you on the way to meet the NHP members Hunter sent?” Pavel started to rise, but Rickard waved him down.

“I want a word with you before I go.” Rickard shut the door and turned the lock, then turned and strolled further into the office, hands pushed too far down in his pockets for his pretense of relaxation to work. He took the seat on the other side of Pavel’s large desk.

“Of course, my liege. How may I serve you?”

Rickard frowned. “First, you can cut out that ‘liege’ scheiße. Second, I wanted to thank you for last night. Not for the part with Kaila…that was tradition, though that too was gracious of you. I’m talking about your part, with me.”

Pavel felt the blood rush to his cheeks. “We share a bond.”

Rickard nodded. “That is why I feel I can ask you to tell me why Kaila hasn’t seen your fighting form.”

Pavel did not intend to go there this morning. His feelings were too raw; he was too caught up in this murder. He sighed. “Rickard, now is not the time for this. We are trying to catch a murderer…”

“And using that as an excuse is not going to placate me.” Rickard’s quick rejoinder stopped Pavel’s half-hearted explanations. “I know you well, my friend. Something is not right. Tell me what it is. Let me help.”

Pavel closed his eyes, avoiding Rickard’s implacable gaze. He ran his hands through his disordered hair, grabbed the locks at the nape of his neck between stiff fingers, and tugged. When he glanced back up, he flinched at the pitying expression in Rickard’s clear blue eyes.

“You didn’t see Kaila’s first reaction to the wulf. She was terrified. She called me a monster. If she thought that about my fur form, what do you think she’ll do if she sees me in battle form? That truly is a thing of human nightmares, a monstrous form…”


Rickard’s eyes widened. His lips tightened. “Pavel Andreiavich Janecek, you are not a monster.”

“Recall what I did the last time I took that form.”

“You saved my life!”

“And I would do it again. That doesn’t make me any less a monster, though.”

Rickard paced. “Do you mean to tell me you bit Kaila, made her your mate without sharing everything with her first?”

“I have not been inappropriate. We are mated, not yet bound.”

Rickard’s mouth fell open. He shut it with a snap of his jaws. “Have you lost your mind as well as your courage?”

Pavel bristled. “How dare you call me a coward!”

“I don’t know…perhaps because you’re acting like one? Or maybe it’s because the Pavel I know would never stray from the honorable path, and if you truly haven’t told her, your actions are the furthest from honorable I’ve ever seen you walk.”

Pavel didn’t answer. Rising, he paced over to the window and stared out, gazing toward the main buildings. As he stood there, Kaila strolled into sight, abundant curves swaying, face alight with interest, turning to speak to Karel, who walked an appropriate three paces behind her and to the side, as befitted a bodyguard en pointe.

He gasped for air, his heart aching with so much love for her he couldn’t catch his breath. He’d die if he lost her. He turned and faced his prince with renewed resolve.

“Instead of asking me how I can withhold information from Kaila when she walks in my mind, ask instead why she refuses to see what’s there. She doesn’t want to know, she doesn’t want to see the monster in me. I won’t show it to her until she demands it.”

“And if she doesn’t? How long do you intend to go through life denying an intrinsic part of yourself? How long before the strain begins to tell on your relationship? How long do you think you could keep up living a lie before your mate?”

Pavel turned back to the window, straining to catch a glimpse of Kaila’s disappearing back. “As long as it takes, Rickard. As long as it takes…”

Whipping Boy

 

“Karel, it is good to see you again. Of course, I wish it could have been under better circumstances.”

“Thank you, Prima.”

“Please, we’ve already been through this. I thought I told you to call me Kaila.”

He shook his head. “You are my Alpha’s woman, the future Prima of my pack. It is no longer appropriate for me to speak to you so informally.”

Kaila huffed. “Oh, for goodness sakes, why not? I don’t see what the big deal is. I thought we were growing close, becoming friends.”

Karel stopped walking so Kaila stopped, too. Folding his hands behind his back, he rocked back on his heels, gaze focused over her head, a diffident expression on his face. “As to that, allow me to tender my apologies. I’ve been informed that my earlier actions were inappropriate. I should not have overstepped my bounds.”

Kaila couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What are you talking about?”

“My Alpha did not take kindly to my audacity in informing you of my attraction.”

Kaila was aghast. “Please tell me you’re making that up. Did Pavel really say something to you about that?”

Karel nodded.

Kaila’s lips tightened as her brows lowered. Sucking in a deep breath, she held it while she counted to ten, adding an extra fifteen when she got to eleven and her anger was still at the explosive point. “Where does he get off telling you what to do? I won’t let anyone -- Pavel included -- dictate whom I can have as a friend.” She gave Karel a soft smile and a commiserating pat on his crossed arms. “Don’t worry about Pavel. Everything will be cool once I have a nice little talk with Mr. High and Mighty Alpha wulf Janecek and get him told a thing or three.”

Karel widened his eyes in alarm. An expression of dread sharpened his suddenly gray features. “Please, I would ask you not to say anything.”

She stopped, confused at the note of real fear in Karel’s voice. “You don’t have to ask. I’m glad to go to bat for you.”

He gave a quick, impatient noise, more a whew than a sigh. “You have many things yet to learn about us wulves. Our social structure is nothing like the one you enjoyed in America. The authority an Alpha Prime wields over his pack is greater even than that afforded a country’s crowned head of state. Though he is my cousin, Pavel is my Alpha first, holding the power of life and death over me. I have sworn obedience to him in all things. He has expressed his displeasure and ordered me to keep my distance and no matter my personal desires, I will obey.”

“So, to hell with our friendship, is that it? You’re just going to lie down and take that unfair bullshit?”

“Perhaps, according to your standards, it is unfair. Still, it is his right to command and my choice to obey.”

His answer made her ache. She glanced away, unable to hold his direct gaze. She shrugged. “Never mind, then. I just thought…” She looked up, looked away just as fast, sucking in an embarrassed breath as she caught the passion glittering in his melting brown eyes.

Oh god, I wish I hadn’t brought this up! That quick glance had revealed a hint of the emotional turbulence seething beneath the mask of his stoic facial expression.

Karel sucked in a deep breath, a sobbing gasp.

Her eyes flew to his in quick alarm. Adrenaline poured through her veins, set her heart pounding wildly as he took several steps toward her, stopping to tower over her shorter frame. Averting her eyes, she noticed his hands, clenching and unclenching at his side until he followed her gaze and snapped them behind his back.

He moved back, stepped out of her personal space, and stood before her, breathing out on a long sigh. Gradually, his fierce look relaxed, leaving his face an unreadable mask. Only his eyes still blazed as he gazed into her wide eyes. “If I thought for one moment that killing Pavel would win me your affections, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

Kaila recoiled, whimpering at even the obscene possibility of being the cause of Pavel’s death.

“That’s what it would take, Kaila,” Karel said harshly, rolling over her instinctive sound of denial. “Pavel would never renounce his claim on you. He could no more step away from you than summer could refuse to follow spring. Any fool can see how much he loves you…and you love him. Were I cursed enough to win a challenge duel with my cousin, you would hate me forever.”

Tears spilled down Kaila’s cheeks. She held out her hand, and let it drop before making contact. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“And you have not. I treasure every moment we shared and do not regret a second. I must tuck away those memories in my heart, for I cannot be just your friend, always wanting more and knowing it is beyond my reach. Allow me this: to remain at your side, your guard and protector. But do not, I beg you, seek what once was.”

Her lip trembled as she closed her eyes, nodding. “I’m sorry.”

A wry, sad smile curved his lips. “In Drestovia, we have a saying: When the fish have fled, why rock the boat for a mouthful of seawater?”

Kaila understood the analogy in his words and backed down, albeit grudgingly. Trying for a lighter vein, she quipped, “Allowing Pavel to play top dog is fine for this situation, but I know there must be other times when an Alpha’s commands don’t dovetail with a person’s desires. Somebody needs to bring the packs into the 21st century.”

Thankfully, Karel went along with the change of topic. He smiled, the stern expression in his eyes softening. “Agreed, and restructuring of our society would be a worthy goal to attempt once you’ve cemented your position as pack Prima.” He bowed his head, and gave her a respectful salute. His eyes held barely concealed amusement. “I would very much like to witness your efforts in that undertaking, along with my Alpha’s response.”

“You make it sound like it would be World War III.”

“Perhaps not full scale war, but definitely a battle.”

“You think Pavel would object that strongly?”

Karel snorted derisively, bared his teeth in a fierce grin. “Mr. Kaila? I think not. I speak of the Elders. The older ones, especially the males of the pack, are who will strenuously object to such an agenda. To say they are hidebound is an understatement.”

Kaila muttered something about the stubborn mindset of males, no matter what the flavor: wulf or man. She hadn’t lived with her father and brothers for years, but she remembered how maggoty-brained they could be.

“What in hell am I getting myself into?” Among the wulves, she’d heard, males outnumbered females more than seven to one. Just thinking about what her life would be like, surrounded by that many testosterone-fueled attitudes, had her reevaluating her commitment to stand by Pavel’s side as his Prima.

Karel glanced about, eyes darting to every corner of the landscape. “We dally here, and my instincts are jumping edgily. I don’t like the idea of being out in the open with no other guards available to ensure your safety. Please” -- he gestured with one hand, urging her toward the complex -- “let us move on. Oh, and do not doubt the eventual outcome. I am sure you will triumph. You already have Pavel eating out of your hands.”

Kaila swept past him, muttering, “He’s constantly eating out something, all right…but it ain’t my hands!”

Her low-voiced retort shocked rough laughter out of him. The harder he tried to restrain himself, the harder he laughed. “Prince Rickard is rubbing off on you. You never would have said something like that before you came here.”

“God, I am so embarrassed!” She had spoken sotto voce, not meaning him to hear her risqué remark, forgetting how well these damned wulves could hear. Kaila bit her lip, wanting to sink through the ground.

“There is no need, Prima. You will grow accustomed to our ways. Mated pairs mate…it is the most natural, beautiful expression of love, not to be hidden away as if it is shameful.” Her chagrined expression accompanied by the flush of hot color bathing her cheeks and neck, had him trying to smother his helpless guffaws. “The Alpha’s scent is all over you. It is obvious what…”

She covered her hot face. “Please…spare me knowing everyone is aware of whenever my boyfriend nails me!”

Karel didn’t look like the thought made him too happy, either, though he quickly schooled his features to blandness when he caught her looking back at him. “Well enough, let’s return to how happy we are to see each other again, but for the unfortunate circumstances,” he said, obediently changing the subject in response to her wishes. “I’m thankful the rogue did not target you for his murder victim. When we heard about what had happened, I couldn’t sleep for worrying about you.”

Kaila was thankful for his attempt to minimize her awkward moment, though his new choice of topic wasn’t any better, to her way of thinking. The last thing she wanted to talk about was the recent tragedy and how it was still playing out. “You shouldn’t have worried. The killer wouldn’t be interested in killing me, would he?” She asked the question rhetorically, not really expecting him to respond.

“Whoever he is, he’s not sane. There’s no telling what he might do.”

Kaila thought about it, shook her head no. “I just can’t see it, Karel. I’ve heard the talk. I’m a breed, so sure, he would rape me if he got the chance, but this creep is all into the hunt and kill. He needs humans for that. Eating me would make him a cannibal.”

The big wulf gazed up at the sky as if asking for help and then back down at her, the expression in his light brown eyes intent. “I see holes in your logic. The first major hole is expecting this killer to be able to reason along logical lines. The rogue could choose to kill you simply to punish the Alpha, hurt him for getting in the way. He knows the value Pavel places on you.

“Second, while you are indeed a breed, you are still human. This rogue might see you as such and act accordingly. He is most likely a member of the anarchist sect among us. This group believes our race is superior to humans. Their members deem it a wulf’s Goddess-given right to hunt and eat humans at will.”

Karel’s words, delivered in that damnably calm, reasonable voice of his, shocked Kaila. From out of nowhere, anger boiled up and over and she stopped walking, turned to confront him, hands crossed over her chest. “How can you make it sound so textbook psychology reasonable, when you know it’s anything but? It’s not reasonable. This entire situation is insanely horrible and ugly and disgusting and brutal!”

She ran out of breath before she ran out of words. Chest heaving, she stared up at him, aghast at her unusually emotional outburst but unable to control the sheer rage seething within.

Karel, his facial expression remaining stoic, listened to her without interrupting. Her anger seemed to flow over him, as ineffectual as river water flowing over an ancient moss-covered rock. Mute, he gazed down at her, all the softness of his warm feelings for her evident in his patient face. “Yes, my Prima, unsanctioned killing is all of that and more. And it is especially hard when the ugliness strikes close to us.”

“Unsanctioned killing…?”

Bingo! Her anger found an out, and she wasted no time jumping through it. Eyes narrowed, she turned on him. “As in…there are times when it’s all right for you wulves to eat us?”

“See how you use the words ‘us’ and ‘you’ in order to separate us by species. How can you expect me to answer when anything I say, you will use against me? Any response I give will only inflame you further.” He sighed, shaking his head slowly, his sorrowful gaze almost making her ashamed. “No, Prima, I will not be your target to rail at.”

Kaila bit back another spate of angry words, wanting to scream and rage, to make someone take the blame for what had happened. Her body shook -- still filled with so much fury she had to clench her hands against the desire to hit something, to hit Karel, make him ache as much as she did. As soon as she thought the last, she became terrified. Her explosive reactions, the fierce emotions raging within her right now, felt alien, totally unlike her. “I’m so sorry, Karel,” she muttered, turning up her face to him, letting him see her remorse. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”

Karel gave a terse nod, his craggy face soft with sympathy. “I suspect the anger and frustration is Pavel’s, not your own. As your bond strengthens, the two of you will share more than emotions. He will become a shadow in your mind as you are in his, always aware of each other’s thoughts and feelings.”

She wasn’t sure how she felt about Pavel having access to the things lurking in her head. Even if what Karel suggested were true, she refused to hide behind someone else, would not justify her rude and hurtful words with that lame excuse. “I don’t care whose anger I’m channeling, I had no right to take my frustration out on you. Just because a wulf committed this atrocity and you’re a wulf, conveniently here, doesn’t mean I have the right to turn you into an available whipping boy.”

“As the Prima of my pack you have every right over me. I would bare my back and give you a whip if it would make you feel better.” His quiet words rang with gruff sincerity.

That feudal mentality of his had her anger boiling in another direction. “I would never take advantage of my position like that…and don’t argue with me,” she added, holding up a hand when Karel opened his mouth to speak.

“What I did wasn’t fair. I shouldn’t have said what I did…not in that tone, anyway. I apologize and it won’t happen again.”

Karel nodded, saying no more. He resumed walking at her heels, silent for the rest of the short walk.

* * * * *

She looked so sad, so forlorn. Karel didn’t know what to say, how to cheer her, so he said nothing, merely walked by her, there for her should she need any service of him. She didn’t glance up -- kept her eyes trained on the ground as if she had to measure every step, guard the placement of her feet. His heart ached for her.

Karel missed the earlier camaraderie they’d shared, the easy way they had joked and teased with each other back in the States. Pavel’s stance had been clear, though. He could keep his emotional distance or accept exile away from the pack, never allowed in her vicinity.

He was a pragmatic wulf and the choice was easy. Better this painful compromise where at least he remained close, able to watch over her, than the alternative. He could nurse his broken heart better up close and perhaps, if the Mother were kind, he’d one day find a breed of his own to replace her in his affections. He was just thankful to be here, able to render her service. He’d meant what he said, earlier. If she wanted a whipping boy, he’d lend his body with gladness.

Meanwhile, Kaila had slowed again, steps lagging more as they neared the main complex. Karel tugged the handles of the ornate double entry doors, clearing the way for her to enter.

With obvious reluctance, she stepped over the threshold, glancing about the empty foyer. “Wonder where everyone is?”

“It is past breakfast time, I know, but they are probably still in the cafeteria. Pavel cancelled all treatments today.”

The corridor to the dining room stretched before them, and again Kaila’s steps dragged as they neared the second entry. Karel reached forward to open the door.

“Wait. Please…”

He let his arm drop and turned toward her, one brow raised in question.

“I don’t want to go in there.” Worrying her bottom lip, fighting tears, Kaila glared up at him. From the look on her face, she still fumed over the injustice, the unfairness of the victim’s fate.

Heaving a deep sigh, he glanced about, making sure they were alone before leaning down to brush at the tears escaping her crumbling control. “You could not have known her that well, drou -- my Prima. Why does her death tear at you so? Tell me what truly troubles you.”

“It’s true I hadn’t known her long, but she was becoming a friend. Anita wasn’t the least bit stuck up, even though she had loads of money. She made a point to be nice to me. Ever since the first day of the program, we sort of drifted together, often laughing at the other women’s attitudes, making a joke of mimicking them. We had nicknames for all of them.” Kaila sniffed, grabbed a tissue from her skirt pocket and dabbed at her eyes, then blew her nose.

“For any of the clients to die would have come as a shock, but the brutal murder of that gentle woman hit me hard. This is why I dread going to that dining room. I don’t think I can bear listening to the other women rehash the events leading up to Anita’s death.”

“You are grieving. Don’t you think the other women feel as you do?”

Kaila tossed him a fulminating, underbrowed glance. “Several of them didn’t like her. They were always taunting her for speaking with me, being friendly with me. We couldn’t stand them with their petty, vicious high society standards and prejudices.”

Karel stared down at her, jaw clenched in sympathy. “Do you really believe the other clients are hardhearted enough to feel nothing?” When she didn’t answer, he went on. “If you ask me, I think they might be hurting more. After all, they might be suffering from guilt. They mocked her, made fun of her, and now she is dead. They cannot ask her forgiveness for their cruelty.” He slanted a brow. “Who is more in need of comfort?”

Kaila blinked, looking thoughtful. “I never thought of that. If they feel half as bad as I do…” She kept her head averted, but he caught the shamed expression she tried to hide.

“I’m mortified to admit I stood by while a client got in trouble. Afterward, I’d have taken her punishment if I could have. I felt horrible, but at least I was able to apologize.” She looked up at Karel, eyes filled with tears of compassion. “Poor things, I bet they’re miserable. Well, my father is always saying there’s nothing like helping others to take your mind off your own pain.” She straightened her shoulders and attempted a halfhearted grin. “C’mon Karel, I’m ready to go in now.”

Karel straightened and gave her his most formal bow before holding open the door. “I think he might be right. Your courage honors your father’s teachings. Our pack is blessed in you, Prima.”

With a murmur of thanks, she took a deep, bracing breath, slipped under his arm, and entered the room.

Just as they’d imagined, all fourteen clients were sitting huddled together at one table, their wan faces blotchy with tears. The sad little group tugged at his heartstrings. Moved by pity, he bent his head and in a low whisper meant only for Kaila’s ears said, “A suggestion: these women are like lost sheep, much in need of your direction. Why not make them your crusade for now?”

First Contact

 

With a weary sigh and a languid stretch of stiff muscles, Indigo made her way out of the dim interior of the plane. The early morning sun bathed the land in radiance bright enough to blind her sensitive eyes. Enthralled with the view, Indigo fumbled for a pair of sunglasses, sliding them on as she disembarked by way of the portable staircase the ground crew had rolled into place upon their landing. Drawn toward the verdant jungle stretching in an emerald green panorama beyond the sparse landing strip, she gasped in awe at the pristine beauty surrounding her.

Orloffberg had completed final construction of the Sated Pleasures Spa -- his newest venture -- a scant couple of months ago, yet already the rain forest had regained most of its lost ground. It sprawled to within fifteen feet of the cleared runway as if nature had drawn a demarcation line in the loamy earth, daring civilization to cross over, a clear warning to humankind: “This far and no farther.”

The island was rich and vibrant, pulsating with hidden life. The clear air hummed with the quick, fluttering motions of tiny winged insects chasing the alluring scents of wild orchids and other flowering plants.

Strident cries of exotic parrots flitting among the swaying treetops vied for attention with the raucous chattering of playful monkeys scampering high overhead in the leafy canopy. Lower down, the trees’ dense growth blocked the sunlight, and at ground floor perpetual twilight reigned.

The shadowed underbrush rustled with the furtive movements of rodents and larger animals, prey and predator alike, rousing in the preheat morning to resume their roles in the daily drama of life and death. Nature’s ancient song beckoned, calling her to slip free of the ungainly human form she wore, to join the primal dance.

The far away coughing snarl of a stalking cat echoed from deep within the forest and Indigo’s body responded. She felt the shifting of muscles and flesh, the flow of fur, and the sharpening of her sense of smell and hearing -- those senses most utilized in the hunt -- and she swayed in place, fighting the temptation, her visceral response instinctive and almost overwhelming.

“Indigo, where have you gotten off to? The tram has arrived!”

Aricles’s voice sounded from afar and she opened her eyes and glanced around, startled to see how far she’d ventured into the green world. The landing strip was nowhere in sight. With longing pulsing strongly along her veins, she fought the temptation to run wild.

Reminded of duty and responsibility, the first of which was catching a rogue wulf, she retraced her steps.

Aricles stood at the top of the stairs, outlined in the door of the jet, talking to the two pilots -- who would remain with the plane until relieved by island staff. She wondered what was taking Aricles so long. How difficult was it to set up a password, anyhow?

One of the spa’s trams -- a glorified golf cart complete with three benches, a colorful awning, and mosquito netting -- sat off to one side of the plane. The long, lean man who stepped down from the front passenger’s seat -- sunlight setting his pale hair afire, turning it into a shimmering nimbus about his strong, well-shaped head -- was the man she’d seen in her visions. The man she couldn’t fall in love with.

Indigo’s long-dormant sexuality came screaming to life. She felt as if her body had turned inside out. The morning’s once cooling breeze had turned into a sultry, humid invisible blanket, touching all along her twanging nerves. Her heart sank.

Oh God, he was perfect. How was she supposed to resist something as prime as the specimen walking toward her?

The soft, buttery tee he wore did nothing to hide the swell of muscles beneath the cloth. His rangy build, emphasized by the thin belt encircling his trim waist, was broad of shoulder, narrowing down to firm buttocks and masculine thighs, covered by a pair of expensively tailored slacks.

How could the All Creator be so cruel? Indigo bit her lip, trying to stop her hungry gaze from skimming those symmetrical angelic features. She’d wager good money those had to be misleading. Large, changeable eyes a beryl blue -- very similar to hers -- were deeply set between thick, light brown lashes long enough to spark a woman’s envy. His beautifully arched eyebrows and that long patrician nose above full, pouty lips put the finishing touches to the perfection of his Scandinavian pale face.

His air of natural leadership, the ease with which he smiled and conversed with Aricles and the two pilots declared long familiarity with socializing, something she was abysmal at. He was extremely handsome in a…regal sort of way. Hell, who was she kidding? He was extremely handsome in every way. She was so totally screwed.

A gloved hand cupped the back of her arm and she jerked, glancing up into Aricles’s worried face. Begging the prince’s pardon, he hustled her a few feet away before asking anxiously, “Indigo, where is your head? Are you all right?”

“Yes, of course, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

Aricles gazed down at her, an extremely skeptical look on his face. “Perhaps because we have addressed several sentences to you and received no answer.” His eyebrows lowered, lips grew tight. “You haven’t been yourself since last night, since you had that last vision.” His gaze softened, intense black eyes stared down into hers. “I’m here for you, Indi, whenever you need me.” He sighed. “Just tell me.”

His concern moved her almost to tears. Swallowing back the lump in her throat, she tried to smile. “I know Ari, and I thank you. Believe me, when the time comes, I’ll holler for help like a pig stuck in a poke, but right now, there’s nothing you can do. Unless, that is, you have a spell for averting love. Do you remember that second option I told you about?”

He thought for a moment, and then slowly nodded his head, pupils gone round. “Where you fall in love and…”

“Prince Orloffberg is the man.”

Aricles closed his eyes, a small smile played about his lips as he shook his head in sympathy. “You are so screwed.”

She groaned. “Not yet, but I guarantee I will be…soon.”

Pleasurable Duties

 

“Congratulations on finding this gem of a place, your Royal Highness. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t say naming a tropical island Paradise was very original, but in this case it certainly fits.”

“Thank you for the compliment, Indigo. However, I wasn’t the one to name this island. In fact, I don’t own it. I acquired it by signing a hundred year lease. Better, in the long run, as I am not certain how long this particular venture will hold my interest. Also, I’ve designated it the official Drestovian embassy so it is, for all intents and purposes, Drestovian soil.”

Why in hell am I holding this asinine conversation when all I want is to push those long, slim legs apart and take her right here in the tram? Rickard relaxed against the back of the bench he was sitting on, having declined his usual seat beside the driver. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. Indigo Carter was the most fuckable woman he had ever laid eyes on.

Big blue eyes watched him, her little gamin face drawn tight with intemperate lust. She had to know what she was doing to him.

Rickard shifted, widened his legs to ease his cock, and caught her staring at the hard bulge between his thighs. He immediately grew another inch thicker. When she swallowed, and then licked those thick lips of hers, his cock jerked, spurting a dab of precum. Gott im Himmel, but that mouth…his mind reeled with visions of her kneeling before him, head between his knees, her incredible lips surrounding his cock.

Damn, but he wished he could read her thoughts. Since he couldn’t, he decided boldness was the better part of valor. “Darling Indigo, when I called Hunter asking for assistance, I never dreamed he’d send someone so”-- he eyed her up and down -- “attuned to my needs. So if you see something you want…anything…by all means, help yourself.”

“No, thank you, sir. I am fine.”

Oh, that got to her! He chewed the inside of his cheek, glad to have gotten a rise out of her, even if it was chilly anger and not that sultry, hot lust he’d been basking in since meeting her.

“Yes, you are. Damned fine.”

She shot a nervous glance over her shoulder to the front of the tram where the driver and her coworker remained engaged in heated conversation over some engine or such. “Don’t mind them. They’re both engrossed in their own concerns. This” -- his languid hand gesture indicated the space between them -- “is between you and me.”

She stiffened. “I resent your arrogance. There is nothing between us.”

Rickard sat up, captured her gaze, and let her see the reciprocal desire. “Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong. There are nine inches of cock between us, darling, every one of which is straining to get closer to you.”

Her face went cold and blank, but her eyes blazed. “Public opinion is rampant about how you live your wild, hedonistic lifestyle without remorse or shame. I had thought to reserve judgment, but I see the gossip rags have you pegged correctly. You’re nothing but a rutting cock with legs.”

“A cock you can’t wait to have filling your empty pussy, my dear.”

Indigo gasped. He could almost see the antagonism wafting off her skin like heat ripples off a concrete roadway baking under the summer sun. Jaws so tight he thought they would crack, she snarled in a low voice, “I am more than a pussy to be filled by you, your Highness.”

What passion! Oh, I can almost bathe in it. Rickard couldn’t control the small half smile widening his lips. “I never said you weren’t. I’m not the one tossing insults about. As to that, what, besides say good morning, did I do to set you off? Why are you angry? Better yet, who are you truly angry with…me or yourself?”

She turned and faced away. “At you, because you disgust me.”

“Really?” He slid his eyelids to half-mast, gazed under them at her pink face, and took in an exaggerated breath through flaring nostrils. “Ah! I love the aroma of warm, wet pussy. Disgust has never smelled so good!”

She slammed her thighs together, sat up stiff and erect.

Rickard laughed aloud. “Now, ordinarily, I’d have no reason to believe you a liar, but I’m afraid I can’t accept your statement at face value.” The smile fell off his face. “I am many things, but not a liar, so do me the courtesy of believing me when I tell you that your…disgust will in no way deter our coming together.”

She gasped. “You’re insane. Stop talking to me.”

“Oh, I can pretty much guarantee I won’t be talking. In fact, I can assure you our mouths will be otherwise occupied. Before long, perhaps before this day ends, I’ll have my face buried in your fragrant little pussy. After you’ve come on my tongue several times, it’ll be your turn to wrap those plump, strawberry-ripe lips around my cock. I’ll be fucking that pretty mouth of yours too hard for conversation, sinking in so deep I’ll strum your tonsils.”

Red face still averted, hands twisting in her lap, Indigo stammered, “In your dreams!”

He nodded, leaned back against the plush leather, and closed his eyes, basking under the warming sun. “Just so. And now in yours, also.”

Aches and Pains

 

The lush green terrain flashed by in an unappreciated blur as Indigo squirmed discreetly on her seat, so aroused she couldn’t sit still. All Creator help me, I am so out of my league.

She bit her lip, rocking her pelvis back and forth in an attempt to provide some relief to her throbbing pussy. The prince’s words had inflamed her to the point she barely managed to resist throwing herself to her knees before him. She wanted to rip his slacks open and get at his cock.

Despite her vision -- actually, because of her vision -- she should have known better than to accept this assignment. There was no way she could deal with a lupine murderer while fending off the amorous advances of a man as boldly sensual and alluring as Orloffberg.

How had she ever thought she would be able to resist him? The prince had years of experience in seducing women under his belt while she might as well have been a virgin. Cats, after all, didn’t date.

Indigo fisted her hands at her side, refusing to acknowledge how much she ached. Her breasts were swollen, nipples hardened to diamond points, the thrusting tips visible beneath her thin shirt. The muscles in her belly clenched and unclenched, spasming in nervous reaction to his proximity, while her vagina pulsed, spilling liquid desire between her thighs.

“There’s no need for you to hurt like this when I am very willing to give you what you need.”

Indigo started at his words, so intensely focused inward she had almost forgotten he sat across from her. She looked at him now, watching her and scheming like the manipulative sex fiend all the gossip rags labeled him.

“I doubt that. You have no idea what I truly need.” Her words came out jerky, stumbling over each other in her eagerness to deny his observation.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and bringing his face very close to hers. “I know you need something to fill your emptiness, something hot to take the chill off your frozen heart. When was the last time a man worshipped your body, Indigo?”

She sat on her hands to stop them from reaching out to him, let her eyelids drift shut, but she couldn’t shut out his voice.

“When has anyone treated you like the purely sexual animal you are?”

There, Indigo thought, there’s the problem. His words held soft concern, not the impatient haranguing of a man intent on a quick fuck. If only that was all he wanted, she’d give it to him right now; lie down and let him have her any way he wished.

Instead, he was trying to touch her heart, was perilously close to breaching that isolated fortress in her soul she’d erected after her father had abandoned her -- after she’d realized he was never coming back. For Rickard’s sake, she couldn’t let him succeed. She couldn’t soften to him. To love him meant his death.

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

Indigo lifted her lids and met the caring warmth in his gaze head on. His intensely blue eyes gazed into hers, his gentle expression making her ache all the more.

“Your nipples are staring at me through your blouse, so erect. I bet your shirt scratches them every time you breathe. I want it to be my mouth on you, my teeth scratching them.”

Indigo curled her lips in over her teeth, applying pressure to keep back the moans trying to escape.

Rickard groaned. “See, sweetheart, don’t do that. Don’t bite those full, juicy lips. Let me do it for you.”

She did moan then, burying her face in her hands. “Please stop. Please…”

“I haven’t even begun, baby. Let me tell you what I really want to do to you and with you.”

“I won’t listen to you.”

He raised one of those perfect brows. “Don’t you want to hear how my cock is jumping at the thought of getting my lips wrapped around those sweet nipples of yours?” He paused, eyeing her reaction with a predatory stare that had her hackles rising as well as her libido.

“I’d tell you how I want to ease you back on these cushions, spread your shirt open right here in the tram, and bare your breasts to the sky. Their beauty is a wonder of nature and what better setting for them than here on the edge of the jungle. I can smell your fragrant arousal and I’m dying for a glimpse of pussy…”

* * * * *

Rickard was relentless. As the tram jostled along the gravel road to the spa complex, he continued to captivate her with carnal pictures painted in bold words and erotic gestures. He held her enthralled with his honest declarations of lustful interest and heated desire.

Indigo’s resolve corroded slowly as she grew steadily more aroused. A master seducer, Rickard used his silken tones and tempting words to press an unfair advantage. He wooed her with the promise of pleasure, his voice flowing over her like sun-warmed honey, smooth and sweet, rendering her soft and pliant.

She didn’t notice when his words petered into silence but after a while, the quiet seeped into her soul and she languidly peeked through lowered lids, curious at what had derailed his soliloquy.

With a gasp, she straightened out of her slump, eyes widening as she realized Rickard no longer sat across from her. He had moved and now sat beside her, his back to the driver’s compartment four rows up.

“How did you…?”

“Get over here so fast? You could say I was highly motivated.” He glanced down at his lap, where the outline of his erect cock was visible beneath the now snug drape of his slacks. His quiet chuckle was rich and deep, sexy like his gruff voice. “My plan seems to have backfired. While trying to seduce you, arouse you with my words, I’ve managed to fall into my own trap. I’ve built a fire I can’t put out and you’re not the only one burning.”

She stiffened. “I’m not --”

He laid a finger against her mouth, his warm digit pressing in until her lips swelled around it. “Now, now, Indigo, let’s not go there. You don’t want me reevaluating your truthfulness, do you?”

That playful glint did it. Indigo gave up, relaxed against the high-backed squab, and surrendered to the pull of attraction. To her horror, her body rebelled against her tight control and her hips tilted up just a tiny bit, as if inviting his touch. He was quick to take advantage. His broad, warm palm firmly cupped her mound and she had to smother a scream.

All her blood ignited. Steams of fire sped to that vulnerable area, lighting up her veins and sparking along her nerves. Both her hands shot out to grab at his wrist. She tugged, trying to dislodge him, halt his plundering of the steamy delta between her thighs, to no avail. Masculine fingers dipped into the crease between her legs, located her already erect clit under her shorts. She exploded.

She kept her voice down, determined to keep Aricles and the driver unaware of what was taking place behind them. Digging her fingernails into his arm she hissed, “Catnip and kitty litter, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Stirring up rebellion, darling,” Rickard crooned, licking his lips. He winked, flashing his pirate’s grin. He kept his hand plastered over her cunt, fingers rubbing her clit, the friction he created so hot the feeling seemed to burn right through the thin material of her clothes.

“Your body isn’t in agreement with your policy of noncooperation.” His finger rubbed and pressed, pressed and rubbed. Her clit throbbed and ached, lower lips swelled with blood. She was a vessel overflowing with lust as he strummed her sex. Her muscles relaxed and her knees fell apart, creating space for his bold caresses.

With a murmur of praise, Rickard stopped working her clit only long enough to slip his hand under the waistband of her pants. Burrowing down, his long, warm fingers found her cleft, dipped in to gather her slippery wetness. His coated digits returned to rim her stiff clit.

“Don’t make me climax, not in the open like this.”

“Come to me this evening, then.”

She shook her head in a frantic “no” motion, too busy fighting off the waves of pleasure to verbalize.

Rickard smiled, his hand increasing its diabolical momentum. “I didn’t really want you to say yes. I wouldn’t miss your climaxing for the world!”

To her disgust, no matter how she fought to sit still, her hips moved under his mastery like a well-trained pet. Unable to ignore the havoc his fingers were creating between her thighs, her body betrayed her by lifting into his touch, begging for more.

Her death’s grip on Rickard’s wrist changed so that instead of trying to tug him off her, she now guided his fingers where she needed them, forcing him to stroke her weeping flesh with more pressure. His middle finger circled her entry, pushed in, and her body melted and tightened all at once. Heat flashed, dancing over her skin and she gasped for air. “I’m going to come!”

“Do it,” he ordered, narrowed eyes glittered with focused excitement. His white teeth flashed in his strained face, his finger shuttled back and forth, gliding easily inside her vagina, the flood of her heated desire having made her wet and slippery. “God, I wish I had you naked so I could see this tight little pussy milking my finger. I want to see as well as feel you coming on my hand. I wish it were my mouth catching your cream.”

The heel of his hand pushed down on her mound, letting her feel the weight, the powerful muscles in his hand as he spread her labia wide and caught her clit between his scissoring fingers.

Indigo convulsed with a helpless shudder, knowing that if she remained in this form, she’d alert the entire island she was coming. Even as she gave way to the orgasm hurtling through her in streams of lava, her body began to shimmer and dissolve. Her scream, when it came, was a soundless wail in the rushing otherworldly magic of her morphing as limbs liquefied, shifted, and twisted. Her clothing fell away around the nothingness she became for one split second…

Rickard continued stroking her, though now his hand drifted along the soft fur of her back. He laughed low and long, the sound both tortured and amused. Casting a why me glance toward the sky, he sucked in a deep breath before gazing back down at the large feline draped over his lap. “Somehow, my dear, I just didn’t take into account how literal YOU could be. This isn’t quite what I meant when I said I wished to see a little pussy.”

No longer concerned with emotions of lust or budding love, Indigo rubbed her head under his hand, her pink tongue emerging to taste the tip of his middle finger. She encountered the residue of her human arousal and her whiskers flicked in feline disgruntlement. “Meow!”

Rickard gazed into eyes so dark a blue they bordered on black, the pupil a golden slit. Resuming his petting with one hand, he shifted his cock with the other, seeking ease. He sighed. “Just so.”

Fast Food

 

The wulf stared at the watering hole from his hiding place at the fringes of the jungle, eyes burning with incandescent power. Hunger clawed at his belly, commandeered his thoughts, and kept him off balance. It was hard to remember his goals, hard to focus when the need for flesh dominated. He had to eat so he could plan. He hunkered down to wait.

It was early, just after sunrise, and he knew it wouldn’t take long for the animals to begin appearing for their morning drink. The unspoken law of the jungle declared the water a neutral spot at morning and evening, but Delin paid no more heed to nature’s laws than he did his own. He was in the mood for some fast food and didn’t have time to waste on a true hunt.

A yearling buck accompanied its mate to the banks of the lake, stood guard while she dipped her head to drink. The buck lifted its head and scanned the area for threats, its nostrils quivering. It was already too late for the roe. He took her down, broke her neck with a vicious snap of his jaws, ignoring the panicked flight of her mate.

Using his claws, he ripped at the flesh of her belly, opening her up to get at the still pulsing heart. He ate the bloody muscle in one bite, dug in the cavity for the kidneys and liver and wolfed those down, next.

When he returned, the airstrip lay deserted except for the plane sitting at the end of the runway. His keen sense of smell told him there were two beings still present in the cockpit. He didn’t know for sure, what species one of the males was -- probably Fey or one of those infernal Brownies. Whatever he was, it wasn’t Homo sapiens. The other male, though, he was 100 percent USDA human -- prime meat to fill the need burning in his gut.

The sleek jet rested on the tarmac, locked down tight. Getting into it might prove problematic. Delin -- being a wulf -- had the strength to tear his way through the hull, but destroying the plane was not his intent. That jet was the only way off this island and he needed it intact and capable of flying. Besides, it belonged to Hunter McCallum’s group and he wasn’t stupid enough to bring himself to the personal attention of that Alpha.

Unlike Janecek, McCallum was no softhearted wulf, hiding his true hungers under a veneer of overcooked beef. He had found an acceptable way to realize his true nature without having to kowtow to humans. No, he’d wait until one of the men exited the plane and take him captive. He’d use the one to pry out the other and take over the vehicle. Once he discovered which male he needed the most, he’d dispose of the other.

Licking his chops, Delin hunkered down in the underbrush, belly full and swollen with the bulk of the medium-sized deer he’d consumed for breakfast. Ordinarily, a kill such as that would hold him for two or more days. Still, his mouth watered at the thought of sinking his teeth into soft human flesh saturated with rivers of rich, salty blood. He sincerely hoped the human wasn’t the one needed to fly him out.

Shifting Realities

 

Brandon sat across the room from the women, broodingly watching Rosemary trying to reassure her fellow clients. His respect for her rose to new heights. Having intimate knowledge of how badly she felt about Anita’s death, he was proud of her coming out of her comfort zone to help those struggling with the tragedy. He shifted on his seat, uncomfortable with the other trainers being in such close vicinity of the clients. For some reason -- he didn’t know why -- he disliked the idea of all those wulves crowded around her.

They had a right to be there; their jobs, like his, dictated they stay with their clients. What better place was there to congregate than the dining room? Everyone was talking about the murder, speculating on where and how Delin had disappeared, because once Pavel had revealed the victim’s identity at yesterday’s lunch, no one doubted who the perpetrator was.

The other trainers talked about hunting him, but Brandon didn’t have any interest in that. He had no intention of running after Delin and leaving his client here at the spa…unguarded. No, he planned on staying right here, keeping a sharp watch on the woman assigned to his care.

“…whaddya think, Brandon?”

“Huh?” He hadn’t been paying a bit of attention.

Ruff repeated himself. “I asked if you think things will get back to normal soon.”

“If you mean will the women once more be vying for a chance at your cock, then yeah, I guess so.”

Ruff waggled his brows up and down, a smile playing at the corners of his mobile lips. “What can I say…? I’m a beast!”

“A damned rutting cur, if you ask me,” Brandon muttered, not caring that Ruff heard his low-voiced complaint.

The taller wulf drew up, a frown replacing his smile. “Hey, Brand, what’s with the snarky remark? What the hell nipped your tail today?”

“Help yourself to all of them, but do not look to Rosemary,” he warned, his anger at the amoral gigolo growing.

Ruff held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, she’s all yours. I’ll leave her to your tender mercies, pup.”

The older wulf was always mocking him! If he thought his snide comment would placate him, he was dead wrong. Yeah, dead sounded pretty good, in fact.

Brandon bared his fangs in threat. “If you mess with her, I’ll kill you.” He glared at all the other wulves, daring them to cross him, raising his voice to shout, “And that goes for the rest of you!”

Jerking to his feet, he started around the table, determined to take her away from here, away from the covetous gazes of these perpetually horny wulves.

Trey’s hand in his chest stopped his forward momentum. “Whoa, dude, you’re partially shifted. You can’t mingle with the clients like this. Calm the fuck down.”

A haze of red anger clouded Brandon’s vision. “You think you can stop me from going to her?”

Trey stretched his arms wide, called over his shoulder, “Someone get Travis!” To Brandon, he said, “We’re all friends here, Brand. What the hell is stressing you?”

He could hear the lie in his so smooth voice. “You’re as bad as Ruff!” Somewhere in the back of his mind, the aggressive growls rumbling in his chest startled him more than the wulves sitting at the table with him. Trey didn’t back down.

“Guys, lend a hand, here.”

The idea they would gang up on him infuriated Brandon. That was not the wulf way. A full-fledged snarl erupted from his throat. His eyes went white hot as he called his battle form. Fur rippled in a fluid advance across his shoulder blades. Steel-hard talons sprang from the tips of his curling fingers.

The trainers stood en masse, maneuvering between Brandon and the clients, blocking his view of his bitch. How dare they try to keep her from him when he needed her the most? The howl coming out of his half-changed wulven throat throbbed with agony.

Enri, that groundskeeper who had only just started hanging with them, stood way back, watching the scene with a nervous look on his face, nostrils quivering. “Who are you trying to impress?”

Who did he think he was, that short wulf, to turn his nose up at him? Brandon wanted to tear the little wulf’s throat out. In fact, he felt like taking on all the wulves surrounding him. They were too close to her, too rutting ignorant to know enough to back the hell away from his bitch.

“He’s usually not like this.”

“Hey, Bran’s not stuck up or anything…”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean. Can’t you smell him? He’s giving off bonding spoor!”

“Who the hell is around here for him to bond with?”

“Oh shit! This is deep trouble if it’s who I think it is!”

“You mean the director’s bitch?”

“Let’s hope not!”

“Back away from him, slowly. Give him some space.”

“Oh man, I’m glad you’re here. Let Travis through,” Ruff ordered.

“Travis, see what you can do. Talk to him.”

Their words buzzed around him, came at him whizzing fast as bullets, striking from everywhere, the impact hard and painful, confusing. He huddled down, threw quick, measuring glances at the wulves weaving about him. He could take two or three. If he hamstringed one, it would take a while for him to heal. He’d buy some time to go back later and deal with the injured one. How could he stop the others from overwhelming him?

“Brandon…Brand, I need you to listen to me.”

The familiar voice snagged his attention.

“Brandon, I’m Travis, your pack brother.”

His head whipped around, eyes finding and focusing on Travis. The big burly wulf stood directly in front of him, hands on his hips, his body stance screaming dominance. Habit had him whimpering in submission, going lower, dropping to his knees to show throat… No, wait! That was wrong. He wouldn’t show throat this time, couldn’t. No wulf would take his bitch!

“No!” He came up, surprising the larger wulf, tackling him at the knees and bringing him down to earth. Snapping his jaws, he tried for the exposed throat beneath him. Travis backhanded him, the ringing blow strong enough to rattle his ears. It snapped his neck back, sent him tumbling away. He was back on his feet in a second, charging at Travis in maddened rage.

“Brandon!”

The terror inhabiting that feminine cry froze him in place. Sight returned in a rush as his eyes bled back to skin-normal. Reason followed soon after. Brandon scanned the room, worried -- now he was back in his right mind -- at the damage he might have caused…and not to the furniture.

Taking inventory, he relaxed when he saw that Rosemary was the only human left in the dining room. He had no idea when the wulves had escorted the others out to prevent them seeing the staff in their true guise, but even in his agitated state, he wondered why they hadn’t taken Rosemary away with the rest. At least he hadn’t blown the spa’s cover totally. He was sure he could talk her into keeping quiet about what she’d seen.

His next observation almost destroyed his newfound calm. Screaming hysterically, Rosemary was fighting her way toward him, her eyes lit with anguish, aging face hard with resolve.

“Stop hitting him! Get your filthy hands off him! Let me get to him! Get back!” She paired each shrill command with a punch or a slap, working her way through the wall of wulves with grim determination. The wave parted until she stood, sobbing, breasts heaving, over him.

Wordlessly, Brandon opened his arms and she fell into them. Peace flowed into him as she snuggled into his embrace, holding on for dear life. He held her just as hard, his heart still thundering in his chest. He sat up, dragged her across his lap and rocked her in his arms, crooning, “Oh, honey, we’re okay…we’re fine…we’re gonna be okay.”

“Well, I’ll be damned! She’s a breed!”

“And a damned loyal one, from the feel of it,” Trey added, smiling. He rubbed at the fading scratch on his arm.

Enri sniffed. “I told you he’d impressed someone. I am a French wulf. We can smell passion a mile away!”

Catching Travis’s eye, Brandon offered a contrite apology. “Man, I don’t understand what just happened. One minute, I was normal, the next I felt like a moon-mad lunatic.” He made eye contact with each of the other wulves. “Guys, I’m really sorry. Did I hurt anyone?”

“The day a cub like you hurts me, I’ll be ready for neutering. Nah” -- Ruff smiled -- “you didn’t do any damage. Besides, if you had, we’d let it slide. It’s not every day a wulf finds a mate. Congrats.”

Shock had him glancing back down at Rosemary. She gazed up at him, trust and love shining in her watery hazel eyes. He drew her closer to his chest, dropped a chaste kiss on her forehead.

She was a breed…and his?

The possibility numbed his mind. “How is that possible? I’ve been around her all this time and never noticed.” He slanted a pointed glance at the rest. “And neither did any of you.”

“She hadn’t been activated, of course. Now, of course, you’ve taken care of that, Brandon.”

“But he fucked her weeks ago. Shouldn’t we have scented her once the cub tapped her?” A wulf named Curt swiped his tongue over a bite mark on his hand.

Brandon straightened with alacrity, grumbled a warning snarl to the group. “Watch your mouths! My bitch is right here!”

Enri tipped an invisible hat while executing a courtly bow. “Je vous demande pardon, cheri.”

“Sorry, Rosie.” Ruff winked at her. “We don’t mean any harm. We’re just having a little male talk.”

She didn’t answer, just tucked her head under Brandon’s shoulder and curled her left hand around his waist. He wondered what she was making of all this. They’d have a lot to talk about when they could gain a moment’s privacy. For now, he needed more information.

“How could this have happened, though? How could a breed fly so far under our radar, so to speak?”

Enri scratched his head. “It seems this is a new development, mon ami. So, why not tell us what is different. What did you do, perhaps this morning, to bring about these events, hmm?”

Brandon stiffened, on the verge of taking offense. He thought better of it when Rosemary patted his back, wordlessly telling him she wanted him to cooperate. He leaned down, whispered in her ear, “You realize I’ll be sharing your private information, our private relations.”

She nodded, meeting his eyes for a small moment, long enough to let him see she understood he’d be revealing the details of their intimate lovemaking. He smiled at her and she gave him a wobbly little grin before going back to hiding her face in his chest.

He sat up, squared his shoulders and took a deep breath, trying to pull his thoughts together. “All right, I’ll tell you what happened this morning. First, though, I think most of you know that Rosemary and I both felt drawn to each other, especially after her punishment. Our liking solidified when she chose me as her first reward.”

He gazed around the circle, met each wulf’s gaze. “What you don’t know is that for the last week, we’ve been sharing a den. We’re sleeping together in her room. I sneak out in the early hours so I can return before breakfast and the other clients can see me arriving.”

A couple of the wulves gave him disapproving glares.

“I didn’t know she was breed, and thinking she was human, I still fell in love with her. If you have a problem with that, it’s your tough luck. I don’t give a shit. If you want to hear my story, you’ll wipe those judgmental expressions off your faces.”

Most of the outraged looks disappeared.

“Earlier today, I was late because of the meeting we had last night.” He paused to make sure they all knew what he was speaking of.

Travis cut in. “More like this morning, you mean!”

Brandon nodded. “When I opened her door, I found Rosemary standing in the middle of her room, buck naked, holding my belt and crying. She had learned of Anita’s death. She asked me to spank her, to punish her because she’d been nasty and unpleasant to her, and now had no way of asking her for forgiveness.”

In his lap, Rosemary stirred, gave a hiccupping sigh, and he stroked her hair, quieting her.

“She was so upset. I gave in, even though I know we aren’t to administer punishment anywhere but the special suite. Still, she hadn’t broken any spa rules and this was private, between her and me. So I took her over my lap and spanked her, walloping her good.” He shrugged. “I kinda got into it.”

A few of the listeners snickered. They subsided under his fierce glare.

“When I had her cheeks good and hot, shining red and swollen, I started licking her, using my saliva to sooth the welts on that cute little butt of hers. One thing led to another and soon I was fucking her from behind. Instinct took over and…”

“You bit her.” Travis’s clipped words fell into the silence.

Brandon groaned, nodded his head in shamed agreement. “I bit her, broke the skin.”

Curt sniffed the air. “I still can’t catch a good whiff of breed…not with all that talcum powder and old age smell it’s buried under.”

Trey kicked him in the shins. “Shut up, stupid cur.”

“Ow, that smarts!” Curt whined, rubbing the sore spot on his leg. “What’d I say?”

Ruff rolled his eyes. “Ignore him. He’s not worth getting upset over.” He laid his hand on Brandon’s shoulder. “What you need to do now is talk to Pavel. Lay all this out before him. Better do it before you tell Rosemary anything else she doesn’t already know.”

Brandon bristled. “She has the right to know everything.”

Ruff nodded. “Ain’t arguing that, but you gave throat oath to Pavel. He’s your Alpha. You gonna mate without his permission?”

Brandon deflated. Draping his arms around Rosemary in a protective hug, he gave a jerky nod. “I’ll talk to him but it won’t matter what he says. I’ll never give Rosemary up.”

Rosemary Tarts

 

“Rosemary, is it true you’re going to marry Brandon?”

“Rosemary, what’s this I hear about you nagging the youngest trainer? Must be something in the strawberry tarts, huh?”

“Rosemary, two…ahem…thumbs way up!”

“Work that thang, girl!”

“Don’t mind them, Rosemary,” Kaila urged, turning back from glaring at the last speaker. “Since gossip is calorie free, you have to expect them to indulge. Just ignore them and they’ll eventually find interest in something else and go away.”

In desperation, Rosemary leaned toward her companion, hissing, “For heaven’s sake, Kaila, I can’t take much more of this!”

“Oh, hon, I hear you. But think…isn’t Brandon’s love worth putting up with the salacious comments?”

If someone had suggested two weeks ago that she’d become friends with Kaila, Rosemary would have spat in their face…figuratively speaking. Today, it was almost natural to find them with their heads together, sharing a whispered conversation.

Both women knew of the acute hearing of the trainers and kept their communication to a level too low to be overheard. They couldn’t hide their scent, though, and their table constantly attracted an inordinate amount of wulf traffic.

She sighed now, taking a sip of her black coffee. “Those trainers are actually worse gossips than the women. Some of them must have gone straight from the cafeteria yesterday and shared what happened with their clients. I just don’t understand why everyone is focusing on Brandon’s relationship with me only two days after finding poor Anita dead. You’d think they’d spare some thought for that.”

“That’s just it,” Kaila pointed out. “They’re looking for something to take their minds off that tragedy. Give it another day are two. Things will go back to normal; you’ll see.”

“What’s not normal is an old biddy trying to recapture her youth by hanging onto a handsome buck young enough to be her grandson,” Lucinda said.

Anger, mixed with a rising sense of shame, stalled her tongue. Before Rosemary could think of a rebuttal for the newcomer, Kaila leapt into the fray.

“Lucinda, we’re trying to have a private talk here. In fact,” Kaila added, “it’s an A and B conversation so why don’t you C your way out?”

“I think that’s an excellent suggestion, Lucinda. Let’s take it. In fact, let’s take you away.” Sara grabbed her erstwhile friend’s arm and dragged her away from the table, looking over her shoulder to add, “It’s not you, Rosemary. She’s this nasty to everyone.”

“Stop mauling me, Sara!” Lucinda batted the shorter woman’s hand away, marching back to plant herself in front of Rosemary. “I’m only saying what everyone is thinking. I mean, come on, shall we do a reality check? Who here honestly believes Buff Surfer Boy is in love with Dried-Up Senior Citizen?”

She looked around, soliciting the input of the other women, before addressing Rosemary again. “What are you going to do, live here for the rest of your life? Did you really think this fairytale would fly in the real world? You probably won’t believe me when I say this, but I’m not trying to hurt you, Rosemary.”

She shuffled closer, bent down, and lowered her voice. “We’re all pretending not to know each other while here at the spa, and that’s fine as far as it goes. I, however, am very well aware of who you are and what your financial situation is. If you go back to civilization wearing that boy on your arm, you’ll be playing right into your nephew’s hands. He’ll have you locked in a sanitarium faster than you can say, ‘I like fucking Brandon.’”

“That’s enough, Lucinda.” Kaila stood to her feet, placed a hand on Rosemary’s shoulder and squeezed, offering comfort. “Whatever her situation, Rosemary is a grown woman, capable of handling her own affairs. She neither asked for, nor appreciates your interference.”

“That’s not exactly correct, Kaila. I do appreciate what she said. In fact I’d like to thank you, Lucinda, for that dose of reality.” Rosemary quirked an eyebrow, adding, “I did need it, though perhaps not in that strength.”

Lucinda stood there, the shocked expression on her face almost worth every moment of pain Rosemary’d just endured. She inclined her head regally. “Well, naturally, you’re welcome, I’m sure.” Turning her nose up at Sara, she sniffed. “Next time, don’t be so quick to judge.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, that’s hella more than enough of that crap! Hip boots, anyone?” Kaila snapped, sounding disgusted. Rosemary reached up and pulled Kaila down. She patted her friend’s hand, letting her know she was all right, while returning the nod of the woman who had just done her an enormous service by breaking her heart.

Monster in the Closet

 

He’d just finished meeting with the coroner when a whirlwind burst through his door. Pavel glanced up, unsurprised to see his dark-skinned lover. Only she could bypass Elise’s dedicated interference and gain entry to the executive wing without announcing her presence.

“Look what the helicopter dropped on the front lawn,” Kaila sang out, storming into Pavel’s office. Her falsely happy singsong tones were a dead giveaway to her anger. Shaking the morning newspaper in Pavel’s face before tossing it on his desk, she pointed out the lurid headline prominent on the first page: Senator’s wife slain by wild animal while jogging at posh new Sated Pleasures Spa!

“The wife of Senator Austin Blakesley-Horn was found dead early yesterday morning by the groundskeeper at Sated Pleasures Spa, the newest fad in fat farms among the super rich who need to shed the super pounds that accompany their rich lifestyle. The tabloids have followed Mrs. Blakesley-Horn’s losing battle to lose weight acquired while carrying her youngest: seven-month-old Austin Junior,” she read, words distorted by her efforts to hold in tears. “Ignoring instructions given to all clients never to leave the main compound without their trainer, the deceased opted to jog at night, beyond the confines of the health complex where it is postulated Mrs. Blakesley-Horn was attacked and slain by a wild animal. Her body was missing a significant amount of flesh, indicating the animal may have fed on the victim. Authorities have ruled her death an accident.” She stopped, took several shaky breaths. “I don’t care what you say, it’s not right.”

She looked at him, her whiskey-colored eyes brimming with sadness, and Pavel wanted to sink claws and fangs in the rabid Delin for causing his gentle mate a moment’s pain.

“Anita’s family doesn’t deserve this. Her children shouldn’t have to think their mother is dead because she was an idiot. Is this how we summarize her life: she was too stupid to live?”

Her quiet question blindsided him. He craved her respect, needed her to find him worthy and her disappointment scalded him, cut him in the newly vulnerable depths of his heart, where she now resided. He didn’t know how to answer her accusation. He said so.

“To say she snuck out to jog against regulations…” Her voice wobbled. “We both know this story isn’t true.”

Pavel inhaled deeply, held his breath a calming moment before releasing it in a long soundless explosion. He hated the necessity of covering up the actual events more than Kaila did, but he hadn’t had a choice. Rickard had taken over the investigation, giving Pavel the task of soothing the clients and heading off the incipient panic that had threatened to overtake the frightened women once they’d learned of the shocking death. They’d have been more shocked had they known the real events. In a sense, the spin story hadn’t been a lie. A wild animal had killed Anita Blakesley-Horn, only the creature that murdered and eaten her had been the trainer assigned to protect and guide her: a true wulf in sheep’s clothing. No, it hadn’t been his call, but he accepted the responsibility for it all the same.

“You’re right, it’s not true. But what would you rather we had said? What good would it do to tell her family a murderous werewulf killed and ate her?”

Kaila grimaced, waved her hand dismissively. “No good, of course -- I know that. You did what you had to do, but damn it, Pavel, reading this story, seeing the way this reporter ridicules Anita makes me feel dirty, makes me feel like I had a hand in this mess.”

“I’m so sorry, love, that this situation arose at all.” Pavel stood and came around his desk. Snagging his agitated mate into his arms, he hugged her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I can understand how you feel, Kaila, because the injustice of this state of affairs grates on me, too. But Anita can no longer be harmed by the lie; whereas, if the truth leaked, other people would become vulnerable.”

She pushed back, looked up at him, her light brown eyes swimming with tears. “You’re protecting your people and I can deal with that, but there’s no one here to protect the human interest. That needs to change.”

Pavel could see his mate had something on her mind. Handing her a Kleenex from the box on his desktop, he loosened his hold to allow her to blow her nose, which she did with gusto. Nothing dainty about this bitch of his, thank the Moon! “Better?”

She nodded, tossing the damp tissue into the trashcan. “Yeah, and I’ve been thinking… I want to be the clients’ advocate. It occurs to me that there’s no one to take his or her side. Before any punishing is done, they should have the right to have the circumstances gone over by someone who can see both sides of the equation, so to speak.”

Pavel grinned. “I love it when you do that.”

She gave a watery chuckle. “Do what?”

“I love it when you think.”

She swatted him. “You beast, you act like I don’t do that too often.”

He was glad to see the sparkle return to her eyes. She’d been grim and quiet the last few days, so unlike herself it was driving him insane trying to cheer her up. Lighthearted conversation wasn’t his forte. In fact, before Kaila, he’d rarely cracked a smile and never laughed outright. In the few weeks he’d shared with her, he had laughed more than in all the long lonely years before her advent into his life. If for nothing else, Pavel knew he would love her forever for giving him the gift of shared laughter. “Just kidding, baby, but I do love watching your thinking process.”

Turning her loose, he rested his hip on the edge of the desk, one hand propped on his cocked thigh. “Congratulations, drouch; it seems that agile brain of yours has identified a need that the planning committee has overlooked. I think your suggestion has merit, and I’m willing to hire you to do this job. We’ll discuss salaries when Rickard returns.”

“Just like that? I’m hired?”

Pavel shrugged. “I don’t see why not. You’ve documented a need. You’re willing to fill it. What more is needed?”

“In that case, I want to hire Rosemary as my assistant.”

“Do you mean Brandon’s Rosemary?”

“Yes. Heard about that already, have you?”

“It’s my job to hear everything. I’d like to know how you knew about it.”

Kaila waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, I was in the cafeteria when the whole scene started going down.” She frowned. “Of course, Karel overreacted and hustled me out before I could find out how it played out, the dog.”

Pavel hid a grin behind his hand. “Don’t be angry with him. His job is to keep you safe. He knows the consequences he faces if he doesn’t.”

“You guys act like I don’t know how to take care of myself. I don’t need a keeper, you know. Hurrying me out didn’t stop me from learning everything. I simply hunted up Rosemary and got the story from her. So, back to filling my job order for an assistant…can I have her?”

Pavel pretended to frown at her. “Hired for only a moment and already you want to spend company money?”

“For a good cause.”

He relented, unable to hold out against her pouting. “Very well, you may have your assistant. You can share Elise for your secretarial needs. She has far too much time on her hands.”

She did a little breast-jiggling, hip-bouncing victory dance that had his cock sitting up and taking notice.

“Whoo-hoo, I’m gainfully employed and don’t have to leave paradise!” She whirled to a stop and all her laughter drained away, expression turned dreamy. “By the way, I like it when you call me drouch. Your voice always goes soft and warm and I know you really mean it.” Her voice still wavered a bit.

His heart softened, seeing her simple joy at his words. Every time he thought they’d made progress, she’d unwittingly say or do something to make him realize anew how wounded his Kaila had been, how much she still suffered because of the brutal way she’d been attacked when a young girl, just coming into what should have been a glorious womanhood. If it were the last thing he ever did, if it took the rest of his life, Pavel vowed he’d convince her of how much she meant to him.

“Never doubt that, my love. You are my heart’s home, my soul’s haven. You are the sun dispelling my darkness. Before you burst upon my life, bathing it in vivid Technicolor, there was only chaos and emptiness.”

She fanned her face. “Good gracious! I didn’t realize you were such a romantic.”

He shrugged. “Rickard isn’t the only one who knows how to spout pretty words. I’ve simply never felt like saying them to a female before you.”

“Don’t stop. I like them.”

“I meant them, every one.”

“Well, feel free to use them anytime you please.” Kaila’s laugh was still a bit self-conscious, but Pavel figured they’d come a long way. She was still so shy; she blushed to be naked before him. He had a plan to cure her of that, however. Practice made pleasure.

Pavel watched her now, wiping her fingers under her eyes, ridding herself of the last trace of tears, her face a gentle symphony of earth tones, and wanted her. Sexual heat sluiced under his skin as he gazed at her.

Kaila ran her fingers through her hair, a telling little nervous gesture. She was aware he watched her, had noticed his growing desire.

Giving her head a shake, she set her loose, curly hairdo bouncing about her face. It settled into a soft looking nimbus that framed her dark cheeks with a halo of mahogany shot through with rich auburn highlights. He liked it.

He also liked the light, floaty dress she was wearing. A pale buttery yellow, scattered with peach blossoms and touches of green, it buttoned down the front, faithfully following the bends and curves of her abundant round body. She’d undone the first two buttons, allowing her full cleavage to peek-a-boo from under the airy lace edging her cream slip.

Pavel groaned. His cock throbbed, hardened until he was stiff as a log. Just watching her innocent primping made him -- what was that word she used? Oh, yes -- horny, that was it. He was horny as a bull elephant, needier than a wild stallion scenting his mare in heat.

“Lock the door.”

The gruff command got her attention and she stilled, wary as a deer caught in onrushing headlights. By now, she knew him well enough to know he’d gone into hunting mode. Oh yeah, she was his prey on this pleasure hunt all right. He was stalking the short-furred cat he knew denned between her legs.

“Wh-why?”

He could hear her breathing accelerating, smell her arousal spicing the air. Pavel inhaled deeply, letting it inundate him, escalate his own needs. “Lock the door, Kaila, and come here. Do it now, unless you want to chance someone walking in here and seeing you bent over this desk getting your pussy reamed by my cock.”

She blinked. “You mean…? That is, you want to…uh…you know…” Her eyes wide, she darted a nervous glance around his spacious office, obviously flustered. “Here?”

What he really wanted to do was impossible right now. Until he worked up the courage to share all his secrets, he couldn’t take the last step needed to bind her to him for all time. Until he showed her the fearsome image of the killing beast, he couldn’t fulfill the dream of taking fur form and fucking her with all the power inherent in his true guise. Most wulves didn’t even consider the sex act fucking if done while inside the puny envelope of skin they donned to mix with humans. Only in fur form could he fill Kaila’s womb with life.

Refusing to give in to that temptation, Pavel battled the impulse to change. Instead, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, taking in the delicious mixture of lust, fear, and sexual excitement emanating from his woman in heady ripples of snout-wrinkling aroma.

His nostrils quivering, he tasted her essence on the air. Her unique scent blended with her aroused breed pheromones, the warm, musky notes insuring his helpless response. Like words on a page, he easily read the revealing information. She loved the pretend danger, thrilled at the risk of discovery while they indulged in such a compromising position.

Being a student of human as well as wulven nature, he knew she probably had no idea that her low self-esteem was the basis of her illicit thrills. She was terribly insecure about her body’s beauty and for her, knowing she drove him over the edge, drove him wild enough to lose control and fuck her anywhere -- even in a public arena -- validated her sex appeal in a concrete, in-your-face way that was undeniable. He didn’t mind one bit catering to that need in her.

“Right here, right now.” He nodded, releasing his iron control. Let her see his eyes go up in flames. “I told you, wulves are highly sexed and I’m an Alpha among them. I wasn’t kidding about needing to fuck you three or four times a day. It’ll be that way until we’re officially bonded.” He spread his legs, drawing her attention to the bulge grown huge at his groin. “Look at me, Kaila, look and really see how much I want you.”

She looked down to where his slacks tented from the bold jutting of his cock and then back up to recognize the wulf staring hungrily out of his glowing eyes. Her own eyes widened as arousal blossomed.

“This is what you do to me,” he rasped, framing his cock and balls between both hands and squeezing. “Just the sight of you -- beautiful, ripe, and round -- makes me hard, makes me hungry.”

Her mouth went soft as her thick lashes lowered, shielding her greedy gaze from him, thinking to hide eyes gone sultry with lust. She swallowed, asked, “You want me that much?”

Did a bear crave honey? He laughed softly at the naiveté of her question. Pavel slid off the desk and slowly unbuckled his belt, opened the fastening on his slacks, and let them fall past his waist to snag on the top curve of his butt. His cock leapt out, long, hard, and thick, its heavy length curving up in readiness.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Kaila licked her lips, eyeing his package. “Damn it, Pavel, no matter how often if happens, I don’t think I’ll ever get over how big your cock is.”

“All the better to fuck you with, my dear.”

“Oh, yes, please!” Without breaking eye contact, she took five shaky backward steps toward the door, reached behind her, and fumbled for the doorknob. They both jumped at the loud click of the lock engaging.

Kaila didn’t wait for him to command her to strip. Not bothering with the buttons, Kaila lifted both hands to the bodice of her dress and yanked, sending the tiny fasteners scattering to the far ends of the office. The slip flew over her head a minute later. She stood before him, managing to look demure in panties and bra, though a hungry expression twisted her beloved face.

The sight made Pavel pause and stare. He lost his smile, brows came together as displeasure dampened his arousal. He crossed his arms. “I thought I told you never to wear panties around me. Get them off!”

“Sorry!” she cried breathlessly, hurrying to obey, making short shrift of getting those cotton unmentionables off her full ass.

Not so easily placated, Pavel raised an eyebrow. “Saying sorry doesn’t begin to cover this infraction, young woman. Next, the bra comes off.” As she complied, he slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt, baring his chest. He toed off his shoes, bent over, and pulled off his socks. Leaving his pants hanging open, he moved back to the other side of his desk. With ruthless efficiency, he cleared the broad surface with a sweep of his arm and shot a hot glance in her direction.

Naked now, she stood with one arm pressed to her chest, palm overflowing with milky, caramel-colored flesh. The other arm crossed her full belly, half-shielding the coarse curls rioting over her pouty mound. He definitely wasn’t having any of that.

“I’ll spank your butt if you hide so much as an inch of that gorgeous body from me,” he warned, voice hard, letting her know he meant the threat. “I’ll use the belt this time.”

She whimpered -- a soft little sound that made his balls ache -- letting her arms drop. That whimper hadn’t been about fear. Kaila’s pussy had given off a strong, tangy scent at his words, telling him the thought of going over his lap had excited her. She always made sounds like that when she had her lips wrapped around his cock, or when he was licking her sweet, juicy cunt and she was fighting not to come. Right now, he intended to make sure she made a lot more of those needy, sexy sounds.

“C’mere, baby,” Pavel crooned, sitting down in his chair and scooting up to his desk. He patted the desktop, and then held out his hand to her. “It’s been what, a day since we made love? I want to suckle those full teats and work my way down your luscious body for a taste of that tight little pussy.”

 

Both Kaila’s pulses raced, her heart thundering in her chest and her clit throbbing at the apex of her thighs. It was one thing to go with the flow when they were naked together, making love. It was quite another to be big, bare-butt naked in your boyfriend’s busy office -- to be naked, all secrets and imperfections bared while he remained mostly clothed.

How terrifying it was having his burning gaze trained on her swaying breasts and jiggling tummy as she came to him. Still, mouth dry with trepidation, she stepped out in faith, praying his clear eyes would see her insecurities and fears in all their ugliness, see her pain, and more importantly, see beyond all that to her true essence. She needed him to see the woman trapped in the hated body and love the totality.

“Hurry, love,” Pavel urged, the golden shimmers of incipient change completely obscuring the light green of his eyes. “I can’t wait to be all over your pussy like ants over sweets at a picnic.”

Memories of Pavel’s mouth on her, his tongue licking and curling along the shallow groove between her labia, weakened Kaila at the knees. She clenched her thighs together, cheeks growing hot as she felt the cream gushing from her, slicking her thighs.

She groaned when Pavel lifted his face, gave a wide-nostriled sniff. Naturally, her supportive lover just had to comment. “Mhmmm…that delicious aroma tells me someone needs fucking!”

“Pavel!” Her shocked cry drew a laugh from him.

“Look what I have for you, honey,” he taunted, fisting his cock and rubbing slowly up and down the thick length. After a couple of passes, his lids fell and his jaw tensed. “Why don’t you come and get it?”

Her mouth watered at the sight, and she managed -- just barely -- to walk over and replace Pavel’s hand without melting into a puddle. He rewarded her with a kiss, removing her hand from him with a murmured, “Too close.”

Swiveling in the chair, he made room between his legs for her. Kaila let him help her clamber up on top of his desk. It was a daring European design, bowed in a sprawling S shape, taller and wider than what she considered standard.

He positioned her with her bottom resting on the protruding curve, her legs splayed wide. She felt like a child with her feet dangling above the floor, but only a woman could truly appreciate the engorged length of rampant cock waving up at her, or the heated look of desire in her lover’s eyes as he gazed on her nakedness.

Voice rough as an unpaved road, Pavel instructed her, “Place your feet here, on the armrests of my chair, drouch. That’s right…slide them all the way to the back. I need your legs open.”

The seat was bulky and wide, custom-made for his big body, and this position opened her to his view, placed her body on total display. A blush spread from her toes to her head when he scooted his chair close to the desk, dropped it to its lowest level. Placing his hands on her thighs, he pushed them wider apart, causing her pussy lips to open, revealing the tight kernel of nerves nestled at the top of her sex.

She waited, breath stuttering, hope stalling, as he sat unmoving, gazing his fill at the steamy, wet area between her legs. This was the point at which she always balked, the moment she doubted herself, fearing his judgment of her. Each and every time he looked at her like this, she faced the same dread, unable to trust totally in his stated love.

“You’re so beautiful in my eyes, Kaila. I’ll need a thousand years to enumerate how many ways you touch my soul.”

His hot breath wafted over her intimate flesh, his words lodged themselves in her heart and Kaila fell forward, folding over Pavel’s shoulder as every muscle in her body relaxed. Her relieved tears wet his shirt. Of course, he felt them, probably smelled the saltiness of them. She thought he’d say something, but instead, he bent his head to her, bathing her vagina with hot licks of his raspy tongue.

“Pavel!” Her hips shot forward, fingers curled into fists in the thick locks of his hair. Kaila hung on for dear life, lips parting as she gasped for breath, panting at the glittering pleasure fizzing like champagne bubbles in her blood.

He glanced up at her, mouth and chin wet from her fluids, eyes shining in a face gone primal and wild. “Moan some more for me, Kaila,” he ordered. Words terse, voice hard, he growled, “I need to hear you crying out with the pleasure I give you.”

Pavel’s hands moved then, and she convulsed as he twined two fingers deep inside her, adding his tongue and teeth in the mix. She came twice before he stood up between her legs. Groaning about needing to get inside her, he peeled off his shirt, and pushed his pants down. He kissed his way up her body.

Falling backward on the desk, Kaila coasted her hands up his tree trunk-strong arms, pulling him tighter to her, over her. Their lips met in a torrid series of kisses, tongues lashing each other, battling for supremacy in the dark, moist caves of their mouths.

His teeth latched onto an upstanding nipple and she framed his face in her palms, held him there as her pelvis rose, begging him to take her. “Need you, Pavel…” she moaned, releasing his face to slide her hands down his back, clench her fingers in the firm mounds of his buttocks. “Fuck me…love me…please!”

He tore his lips away to stare down at her. “I do. Every time I fuck you, I love you more.”

Both of her damp, pebbled nipples, stinging from the savage way he’d bitten and suckled them, stood upright, quickly stiffening more in the chill following his mouth’s abandonment. She tugged at him, pulled him back to her. “Then love me now, Pavel.” Her chin wobbled. “Love me like you mean it.”

He slid into her, the key to her lock that opened her to a world of light and warmth. They fit, merged, melded together in a seamless circle of give and take. Kaila loved fucking Pavel, loved the way his long, thick erection stretched the intimate corridors of her sex. Taking him no longer hurt as it once had, but his sheer size insured she’d experience that overfilled feeling she’d begun to revel in.

“Feel my love, drouch, feel me loving you…so much!” Pavel groaned, rocking his pelvis against hers, his hips flexing strongly as he pushed his cock into her tight depths, withdrawing only to surge back in again and again.

“Harder, fuck me harder, Pavel,” she cried, loving the way he threw his entire body into giving her pleasure, knowing he wouldn’t come before she did. Kaila tightened her pussy around his thick length, squeezing rhythmically, shuddering every time his blunt head scored its heated path along her gloving flesh.

“I’ll give you hard,” he promised, pulling out of her and flipping her, bending her over the desk. He gripped her butt cheeks, spread them wide and slid his cock back in, filling her empty pussy as he’d filled her empty heart. “Give me your sweet cries of surrender!”

Kaila glanced over her shoulder, pulse kicking up when she caught a glimpse of the wild glow in his eyes, the fangs crowding his mouth. A dense pelt of dark fur covered his upper body, rubbed soft as silk against her lower back every time he thrust into her. He looked closer to changing than she’d ever seen him and for a minute, her heart raced at the thought of what she’d do if he shifted while inside her and fucked her as the wulf.

She couldn’t stop the pictures looping through her head: Pavel, as he’d appeared to her in their bedroom -- a giant wild wulf, so huge the top of his wulven head brushed the undersides of her breasts. She felt his fangs sink into the bend of her neck, his forelegs at her waist, holding her down. She saw him standing on his hind legs, felt his furred haunches along her buttocks and back as he fit his steel-hard wulf cock to the mouth of her dripping pussy and punched through, fucking her furiously.

The depraved daydream drove her over the edge. She fell from a dizzying height, screaming and bucking under him. Relentless in his pursuit of pleasuring her, he rode her down, his weight pressing her nipples into the cold surface of the polished oak desk, his heavy balls slapping the back of her thighs.

Her powers of speech left her and she could only moan as he took her roughly, mastering her carnally. She relished the way he demanded her surrender, controlling her and at the same time making her feel safe, cherished, and protected. She’d never experienced anything like this before his loving touch.

His cock grew inside, knotting her, sealing shut the mouth of her womb. The tight stretch snapped the last vestiges of Kaila’s control and she shattered in the grip of a wet and wild orgasm of hurricane proportions. Throwing back her head, she gave him the cries he demanded, voice breaking as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her.

Slamming into her, howling his victory to the world, Pavel came right behind her, as his tight balls pumped jets of hot cum out of his cockhead, flooding her pussy. With a satiated groan, he collapsed on top of her and they lay on his desk, spent, breathing hard and panting.

After a long while, Pavel’s knot diminished. He tried to pull out, but Kaila yelped in dismay. Her pussy was puffy and so swollen he ended up working his penis out of her in small increments. If he’d still been hard, he wouldn’t have been able to accomplish it.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, picking her up with that casual inhuman strength she loved. He carried her into the small in-office suite consisting of a bedroom, full bathroom, and a sitting room, stood her on her feet in the bathroom. One arm holding her upright, he leaned in and started the shower.

After a long, lazy time under a heated shower and an even longer second loving, Pavel carried her limp body out of the shower. Leaning her against the wall, he dried every inch of her abundant flesh, paying close attention to the crease under her breasts. Following the towel’s downward path with hot, open-mouthed kisses that ended with his tongue licking her clit and the surrounding tender areas, he bathed her in his healing saliva. She shuddered through a smooth series of orgasms, the pleasure flowing like warm, thick molasses, too spent to do anything but mewl.

Lifting her in another display of easy strength, Pavel whisked her back to the impromptu bedroom, lowering her to the spartan bed where he proceeded to love her again. This time with a wild turbulent energy that -- to her shocked delight -- revitalized her, turned her into a scratching, clawing wild woman who demanded he make her come hard and fast.

“Moonbeams and shadows, Kaila,” Pavel gasped as he settled down beside her, drawing her to his chest and covering them both with the light blanket folded at their feet. “Loving you gets better and better each time.”

I love you more than my next breath, she whispered in his mind.

As I love you, drouch…

If I am truly your heart’s home, why do you have a locked door in your mind? Her mental tone was diffident, cautious. Why won’t you open the door and let me in?

He froze, stilled until she couldn’t even detect the thump, thump of his heartbeat. Finally, after what seemed eons, his desperate thoughts touched hers. I can’t.

His anguish bit at her heart, bitter, deep, and unrelenting, the sheer intensity of it frightening her. Don’t you know you can tell me anything…everything?

He closed his eyes and his mind against her, refusing to let her see into his soul. Please don’t make me show you…

My God, Pavel, nothing could be all that bad. What are you hiding?

He buried his face in her neck, curling into her like a little boy seeking shelter from a nightmare. A monster.

A monster…? Where?

Here!

His world shattered when Kaila screamed.

Introductions

 

“You’ve been catering to that lazy puss long enough. Want me to take her off your hands, Prince Rickard?”

Rickard shifted his body, angling his burden away from Aricles’s reaching hands. “She’s fine staying with me.”

Aricles hid his smile, not surprised at the prince’s blunt refusal of his offer.

“I’ve arranged a bed for her in my rooms and the chefs have a rivalry going, tempting her with the freshest fish fillets. She is playing them for all she’s worth, the little flirt.” He smiled down at the large cat draped over his forearm. The smile disappeared when he ventured an underbrowed glance at Aricles. “I am concerned that she hasn’t shifted back, though.”

Aricles reached out a gloved finger and stroked the purring tabby behind the ears. “She will shift back when she’s good and ready, not a minute before. Don’t worry, Indigo reverts to this form for relaxation or” -- he favored the prince with an arch look -- “whenever she feels threatened. What on earth could have upset her so?”

Rickard remained silent, mouth tightening.

Aricles slanted an amused glance at the tight-lipped Rickard. “Never mind, I think I can follow the logical sequence of events.”

Indigo reared up in Rickard’s hold, laid her ears back, and hissed at Aricles. He withdrew his fingers from striking range just before she tried to sink her teeth in them. “You know better,” he admonished, slanting a pointed frown at the cat once again blinking indolently back at him from the prince’s embrace. That little wretch was enjoying the present situation entirely too much. “You’re spoiling her.”

“You’re upsetting her,” Rickard accused, keeping his voice soft. His arctic blue eyes, however, spoke volumes.

The poor fool had it bad, but then, so did Indi by the looks of it. Aricles decided to have pity on them and stop teasing. “Much as I have enjoyed this tropical paradise the last day or so while reading through the evidence, I suppose I should move on to the fieldwork portion of finding out who your killer is.”

“We already know who he is. We need to know where he is. This island is large and heavily forested. Finding a wulf determined to hide in all this space requires more manpower than I can afford to bring in. Not in terms of monetary spending,” Rickard added, noting Aricles’s raised eyebrow, “but I dare not expose the clients to this fuck’s craziness. Since his preferred targets are the humans, I’ve surrounded them with a wall of wulves. Once he realizes we’ve protected them too well for him to get at, his priority will change to escaping, getting off this island. We can’t allow that.”

“How many ways off this island are there? Are those exiting points guarded? And lastly, what steps are you taking to prevent him from slipping past your watchdogs?”

Rickard automatically shifted Indigo into a more comfortable position, attention firmly with Aricles. His answers were terse. “Transportation is by boat and air. I’ve ordered all boats to stay clear of the island until further notice and have changed the daily deliveries to helicopter drops. There isn’t a skiff or rowboat left anywhere on the entire island.

“The two docks and the more accessible stretches of beach are under surveillance by my agents. I also have men in hiding around the landing strip, which is Delin’s best bet for a speedy escape.”

Aricles nodded. “The only aircraft on the ground is ours and the pilots have worked with us before. They know better than to open that hatch except under the conditions we’ve outlined to them.”

This time, Rickard nodded. “We’ve got him trapped, then, which means that, sooner or later, he’ll return here to the complex in search of a hostage.”

A thoughtful frown creased Aricles’s forehead. “If we wait for that, we’ll give him the advantage. We need to flush him out, need him dancing to our tune, not vice versa.”

“What would you suggest?”

Pointing an admonishing finger, Aricles indicated the now sleeping cat. “I would suggest waking up my team leader and asking her.”

“Are you serious? Indigo is your leader?”

The look of startled surprise on Rickard’s face was priceless. Aricles had a hard time reminding himself the prince was not his new toy. He shouldn’t jerk him around like a pliable G.I. Joe doll.

Aricles actually liked the prince. Orloffberg appeared a bit of a stuffed shirt, but that was normal for ruling heads of state and could -- which was more likely the case -- be blamed on this horrific situation. Overall, Rickard seemed a decent sort of fellow, genuinely interested in Indigo beyond a shallow desire to fuck the nearest and prettiest female around.

Besides, Indigo more than liked him, and that was a huge plus in Aricles’s book as his heart-sister was a keen judge of character. The man might have come onto her hard enough to drive her into hiding, but Aricles figured that had more to do with the shifter’s inexperience with male/female relationships than it did with any threatening sexual overtures. Had he truly offended, he’d be wearing the marks of the cat’s claws, not the cat.

Speaking of cats… “About Indigo being the leader, yes, I’m serious. She’s Hunter’s second in command. About needing to wake her up and ask her, no.” He cast a disgruntled glare toward the drowsing feline. “And I’m totally serious when I say she needs to stop fucking around and do her job.”

He saw the prince’s jaw clench. He’d bristled at Aricles’s comment about Indigo, definitely not down with hearing another man criticize her. The two of them were going to have problems if Rickard was going to take exception to everything Aricles said regarding the wildcat. He wondered if the man even realized how fast and how far he’d fallen for the enigma Indigo presented.

Rickard didn’t comment. Instead, he asked, “Does she do this often? Sleep on the job, I mean.”

Aricles gazed into Rickard’s eyes, let the other man see the depth of his fondness for the little cat. “No, she doesn’t. She’s usually conscientious and so work oriented, I often have the unenviable task of trying to convince her that she doesn’t have to be the one performing the lion’s share of our tasks.”

“It sounds like she could use the rest, then. We’ll let her sleep a bit more.”

Aricles watched as Rickard continued to stroke the cat gently, a smile tugging his full lips. He wondered what the prince’s lineage was. The man was too damned beautiful for a human. Standing at his side, he realized they were almost total opposites. Rickard’s thick, silvery blond hair fell from an off center part in a shining swatch straight as the wind, while his own Hades black curls rioted wildly over his brow and down to his shoulders. Rickard looked like a sculpture in ice and snow while he looked like someone had carved his image from a block of granite. Perhaps that was what had attracted Indigo: the fact she couldn’t find a being more different from him if she’d tried.

Aricles decided to offer his friendship to this intrepid prince. He was going to need it.

“If I could make a suggestion…?”

Rickard’s brows lifted. “That’s why you’re here, correct? Please, I am quite willing to hear anything you have to say.”

“As you pointed out, finding this wulf will be difficult in all this space. He has numerous places to hide and can simply move from place to place avoiding us, then return to his usual haunt once we’d finished searching that area.”

Rickard nodded, clearly following Aricles’s line of reasoning. “An exercise in futility.”

“If we could gain an idea of where he’d been, it should be easier to extrapolate where he might go to lair.”

“That’s been our problem. We haven’t even been able to find the original site of Anita’s murder. We know he didn’t kill her on the cliffs where we found her remains. However, no matter how long we’ve searched, we’ve found nothing.”

“I believe I can locate that site for you once I discover where he’s hidden in the past. I’ll require a wulf that can be trusted implicitly, one who will report to me, and no other…not even you, Rickard.”

“I can supply all but the last. No amount of coercion can subvert the men of my personal guard. They were handpicked by the man I trust foremost in all the world. If I command them, they will obey. You may have the implicit trust, but the loyalty remains mine.”

Centuries of commanding instant obedience made it difficult for Aricles to resist blasting the mortal with a jolt of power. Reminding himself that Indigo held this man in her affections helped him maintain a benevolent manner. This situation was an example of why he rarely did these assignments on his own, choosing to work in tandem as one of a paired unit.

Aricles took a deep breath and calmed his temper. He was here to help, not jockey for position with this regional ruler. He bowed his head, a curt acknowledgement. “I can live with that. But could you live with the consequences?”

Rickard raised his head and stiffened his spine, the lines of his patrician face sharpening into an expression of hauteur, becoming every inch the ruling monarch. His brown brows -- such a dramatic contrast to the silvery light strands of his shoulder-length hair -- arched in disbelief. “How can you think I would give even one of my men over to you if you would threaten me with harm to them?”

“That came out wrong. Your concern is admirable --”Aricles began.

“I am their overlord, their liege. My concern is my duty, one I will not shirk.”

“-- but misplaced,” he finished, patiently overlooking the prince’s interruption. “Let me explain…”

A muscle twitched in Rickard’s cheek. His voice, though he kept it low and even to avoid disturbing his sleeping burden, dripped icicles. “No, we are done here. Save your explanations for someone interested in hearing them.” Without waiting for a response, he turned to walk away. His action was the nail in the coffin of Aricles’s patience.

“Stop,” Aricles cried, flinging up a hand, the gesture sharp and authoritative. In response, power roared from him, freezing Rickard in midstride, statue still. Unable to talk, unable to move, shards of icy anger flashed in the mortal’s pale blue eyes. Aricles was surprised he could do even that little, held under the stasis spell he had employed.

Moving closer to confront his arrested audience of one, Aricles let go all his restraint, allowed the lightning to play in his own gaze. The echo of it flashed across the heavens, while storm clouds boiled up, turning once bright skies a dull gray. He gloried in the freedom, in the heady rush of using his inherent powers. He tired of hiding what he was, what he could do. Unable to resist the temptation, Aricles took to the sky, hair twisting in an invisible gale. It was time for this mortal prince to understand the magnitude of the insult he’d offered this elemental being. With a flick of his wrist, he lifted Rickard up, left him suspended in mid air.

Drifting close enough to Rickard that his chest brushed Indigo’s fur, he noted the other man more than matched him in height. Too angry to do more than file that away for further contemplation, he smiled into the prince’s face while he did the one thing he calculated would totally infuriate Rickard. Holding his helpless gaze, Aricles plucked Indigo out of Rickard’s unresponsive arms and flitted away.

The cat started, coming half-awake with a sleepy meow, and he quickly settled her more securely in his embrace. Crooning and stroking her fur, he used long, even swipes to soothe her. With a rumbling purr, she slipped back into dreams, snuggled against his chest.

He turned and faced the mortal, his lips turned up in a superior smirk. In response, the light blue of Rickard’s pupils leached to a flat, silvery pewter shot through with fury.

Aricles chuckled. Rocking Indigo in his arms, he taunted Rickard, “While I would never harm Indigo, you couldn’t stop me if I chose to and that galls you. Being helpless -- unable to help your own self, let alone keep a loved one safe -- bothers you doesn’t it, Rickard?”

He stopped smiling. “Are you beginning to garner some idea of who you are dealing with?” He pretended to wait for the other male to respond. “I forgot! You can’t speak, can you? Allow me to rectify that.” A casual wave of his hand freed Rickard’s mouth, and he was instantly sorry for it.

“Give her back!” Rickard spat, his arms still positioned as they were when he’d held her, his eyes wild.

Aricles cocked his head. “Strange, I would’ve expected complaints about me binding you against your will. Telling, how the first words out of your mouth were that particular demand. Nevertheless, no, I won’t give her back to you. Not until you listen to me. And pay attention, because this is important.”

“Then don’t touch her like that, you cur.”

Aricles had no idea what Rickard was going on about. “Don’t touch her, how?”

His face livid, Rickard snarled, “Just…move your hand from there, damn you!”

Still bewildered, Aricles gazed down to where his left hand curved under Indigo’s belly, holding her securely, very close to where her privates would be in this form. He grinned. “What naughty thoughts you have, prince!”

Rickard snarled. “You’re going to pay for this.”

Aricles just looked at him.

Hard gaze promising retribution, Rickard gave in. “If getting out of whatever hold you have on me means listening to you, then I’m all ears. Start talking.”

“You really do need to do something about that bossy habit you have. It’s annoying. Ah well.” Aricles shrugged. “I suppose you come by it naturally.”

“You should talk, Aricles.”

“Actually, that should be Kyrios Aricles to you, but touché, as I’ve been told I am quite bossy. That being said, I believe I’ll follow your suggestion and start talking.” Deciding Rickard deserved a reward for keeping his cool -- not that he would have gained anything had he chosen otherwise -- Aricles stepped up to him and carefully transferred the warm bulk of the still slumbering feline back into the waiting cradle of the other’s arms. “Here, hold this for me.”

If marble could relax, the prince managed it, his immobile body almost melting, eyes going a soft, clear blue. He barked a short laugh at the man’s revealing response.

Love screamed from Rickard’s every silent pore and Aricles bowed his head. His heart-sister couldn’t find a man more in love with her if she searched three galaxies.

“We’ve gotten off to a bad beginning, Your Highness. Allow me to start over.”

Bowing from the waist -- a nifty feat hanging ten yards in the air, if he did say so -- Aricles introduced himself. “I am Kyrios Aricles, bastard son of the goddess Aphrodite and Alexander of Macedon. Born to him in the year 328 B.C., I lived as a human child in the care of Roxana of Balkh until Alexander’s generals, determined to remove the only obstacles stopping them from splitting up Greece and parceling the country among them, finally caught up with us and slaughtered her before my face. I, too, died that day. Aricles of Macedon became Aricles of Olympus, an immortal, but not an eternal. Shunned by the gods and discarded by men, I was eternal prey and in return, I preyed on mortals, meted pain and suffering in like measure that I received them.”

“Wait!”

Aricles paused and glanced at Rickard.

“You are the son of Alexander the Great? You expect me to believe that?”

“Does my tale seem farfetched? It gets wilder, my friend, believe me.”

“Alexander of Macedon conquered the known world. At the time of his death, he was lord of the Earth. If what you say is true, you are the rightful king of…”

Aricles breathed in on a long sigh. “Your throne is safe from me. I lay all that aside centuries ago.”

Rickard chuckled. “Drestovia has always been free. Ours was one kingdom Alexander did not take.”

Aricles snorted. “Of course not, because it wasn’t part of the known world at the time.”

“True, but he’d planned to carry out his aggression to other parts of the world. The conqueror turned back from war when his troops refused to follow him further. He planned a spring campaign but died before he could carry it out. If he’d tried, though, my ancestors would have had a surprise waiting for him. Our wulves are formidable in battle.”

Mouth widening in amused praise, Aricles applauded. “Congratulations. Drestovia holds a distinction not many countries can claim. Her kings are kings, indeed when their subjects are wulf warriors.”

It was Rickard’s turn to snort. “Perhaps because her kings have all been princes, knowledgeable that their subjects could arise and take them out in a heartbeat.”

That easily, they were laughing together. It felt good, talking to this man as an equal, Ari realized. It had been far too long since he’d done so. All his friends were…different -- like, yet not like him. He’d revealed himself, his powers to this human and he hadn’t fallen at his feet, groveling. Well, he couldn’t very well do that held in stasis, but he’d not kowtowed by word or deed. For the second time that day, Aricles found himself admiring Rickard, knowing he could be a friend, wishing they would find that road and travel down it side by side. Being a demigod exiled from all the rest, cursed to be alone, grew tiresome.

Coming to an abrupt decision, Aricles released Rickard from his hold. “Please forgive me. I erred with you and I’m sorry for it. Being half god does not make me infallible, as you’ve had cause to see today.”

Rickard nodded curtly. “Why do you need a man who will swear to only you?”

“That was what got us started, wasn’t it?” Aricles sighed. “I am cursed. Aphrodite, though married to Hephaestus, is in an open alliance with Ares, the god of War. She cheated on him with my father. Ares has hated me from day one. When Hephaestus took me in, adopted me, Ares could no longer attack me openly. He didn’t have to. His influence kept the majority of the gods from accepting me. To please him, some took joy in torturing me when I was too weak to fight back. Living in Mount Olympus, partaking of the food and drink, soon brought me into my full powers, minimal as they were.”

“Humph.” Rickard pursed his lips. “Looked pretty impressive from where I was standing.”

“You think so?” Aricles sighed. “I can walk through time, harness the thunder and lightning, and control the elements, yet, for all that, I cannot share a kiss with a sister in simple loving affection, or clasp hands with a friend in camaraderie. Given a choice between the two powers, which would you choose?”

Rickard looked down at Indigo, his eyes full of wonder and an emotion far greater than affection. “The latter, hands down.”

“I need to bind one of your men to me so I can focus on him as a base while I’m time-walking. The best candidate would be a hetero male in a sexual relationship.”

“Why hetero? I ask because the majority of the men are wulves. Their race has a shortage of women and they have no problem accommodating either sex.”

“I’ve found an honorable man, striving to be true to his vows, can better withstand the poison of lust. And that is what my touch is: instant, unrelenting lust.”

Rickard smiled. “I’m not hearing a downside to this. You can literally have anyone you want. How is that bad?”

Aricles closed his eyes, cursing total recall, which kept his experiences ever fresh and unfading. “It doesn’t wear off. Ever…and only a very rare few are immune to it.”

“Ouch! That could prove awkward.”

“Imagine…you’re walking down the street, coming home from a productive time at the market. Someone jostles you and you begin to tumble. Miraculously, a hand catches you, stops your fall and you look up into the eyes of your savior. You forget everything. Nothing matters: not the husband you love, or the nursing child you left at home. The only thing that matters is giving yourself to the one who owns you. You’ll lay down anywhere, in the street, in an alley, even the atrium of the temple…doesn’t matter. You have to have his cock in you constantly.”

Rickard looked paler than usual. “That’s…”

“Horrific? Yes. Even more horrible is that, the first time it happened, I didn’t have a clue. I’d only recently reformed, repented of my crimes against humanity. I decided to be of some use in the world, use my powers to heal and not hurt. The day I stopped that woman from falling I went on my way, thinking I’d done my good deed for the day. I had no way of knowing she followed me until she dropped from exhaustion. When friends found her, carried her home, the poor wretch refused to feed her child, kept trying to escape to find me. Finally, she stopped eating and sleeping, did nothing but masturbate, chanting my name. She died before the year was out, pining for me. When I returned years later to lead the harvest festivals, I found the citizens of the town remote and resentful. I’d become a deity to be feared and hated.”

Looking somber, Rickard whispered, “I don’t think I could stand being the cause of that. How do you? More to the point, how do you navigate the normal hustle and bustle of the city?”

“Very carefully. Over the years, I’ve managed to find way to mitigate the effects. The larger the exposure to my skin, the more intense is the desire the recipient feels. So if I touch the tip of my finger to theirs for a second, it will not engender the deeply focused lust as say, shaking hands with me would bring about.”

Rickard grimaced in sympathy. “I so do not want to be you.”

“Few do.” He grimaced. “It’s a bit like Disney’s Genie: phenomenal cosmic power coupled with an itty-bitty living space.”

“Humph!” That made Rickard smile. “You’re like a brother to her, huh?”

“In the beginning, had it not been for the curse, there was the potential for…something else.” Aricles spread his hands. “Now, though? Yes, she is my heart’s sister and I would not change that. It would be a great loss.”

Rickard breathed out on a sigh. “About that helper…let me call Pavel. I think I know just the wulf to assist you.”

 

Deus Ex Machina

(Godly Interference)

 

They met at the edge of the jungle, not far from the landing strip. Brandon stuck out his hand. “Hello, sir. My name is Brandon Rogers. My Alpha has requested I assist you. I’ve searched this area for you as your note suggested and found fresh scent and spoor left by Delin. What else would you like me to do?”

Aricles softened his lips in what others might consider a smile. “Good job, Mr. Rogers. Forgive me if I don’t shake hands with you. You’ll understand my reticence shortly.”

The young wulf looked puzzled, but didn’t comment, simply nodding his head. Aricles liked that. “Tell me Mr. Rogers, what do you know about the rogue wulf, Delin?”

The youngster smiled. “Please sir, just Brandon. I’m the youngest trainer here, and if the other wulves heard you calling me ‘Mister,’ they’d rag me forever. It’s a pack thing. As for Delin…” His sunny expression fading, Brandon’s face took on a cast all lines in sharp angles. Eyes turning gold with the heat of change, he fell into a half crouch, fangs and claws emerging. “I know he’s filth, hurting innocents and attacking noncombatants. I know he’s dead if I get my paws on him.”

Aricles found himself reevaluating his earlier assessment of Brandon’s youth. Though young, this was no cub standing before him, but a feral fighting machine. He wouldn’t mistake him for a child again. “Thank you, that’s all I needed to hear on that matter. However, I do need a little more information, this time about any romantic liaisons you might have. So tell me Brandon, are you in love?”

Looking as if he wanted to bolt, Brandon eyed him askance, nervously licking his lips. “Alpha Janecek has said no wulf has to give sexual service against his will, regardless of his standing in the pack.”

Aricles smiled, knowing exactly what Brandon had to be thinking, knowing the wulf’s musings weren’t that unusual. As a demigod of lust, he’d found such thoughts were generally inevitable in mortals whenever they stood in close proximity to him. “As I am not pack, you have nothing to worry about on that score. Now answer my question.”

Brandon swallowed. “Yes, I love someone, but what does that have to do with this business of yours?”

“Quite a lot, actually,” Aricles murmured, removing his gloves with slow, deliberate motions, “as I’m hoping it will help you survive what I’m about to do to you.”

Kaila 1: Monsters 0

 

Kaila screamed again. “I’ve got your filthy, rotten lying monster right here!” She rained blows at Pavel, beating on his furry chest.

Dismayed, he shifted back to skin form so fast his skin stung and a headache pounded at his temples. He grabbed at his hysterical mate, dodging her flailing arms, trying to soothe her. He caught her hands, tugged her off balance to hold her close. “Kaila! Kaila, stop! It’s all right. I’ve changed back. You don’t have to look at me like that.”

She fell to the bed, still fighting and scratching at him. “Don’t blame this on your looks, and get off me! Let me go!” Gasping, glaring at him through the tears flooding her face, she snapped, “It’s not all right! It will never be all right, Pavel. Do you know how long I’ve waited for you to show me your mid-form, patiently waited for you to take our relationship to the next level? You’re the one hiding monsters, not me! Were you ever going to tell me?”

Pavel felt dizzy. “Wait! Wait, Kaila. What are you saying? How did you know to call it mid-form?” His jaw hardened as he realized someone had betrayed him. Had Rickard, thinking he knew best, dared to spill his secrets? “Who told you about that?”

“You answer me, first,” she demanded. Her eyes glittered with hot anger and hurt.

He addressed the hurt. “I was afraid. I saw how you reacted to my fur form, calling me monster, and my heart quaked. Every single time I tried to tell you -- and believe me, I started to tell you a hundred times in a day -- something would happen, or you would say something that made my courage dissolve like snowflakes in the summer.”

He ran his hands through his hair, and interlocked them at the back of his head, afraid he might grab her, knowing she wasn’t ready for that yet. “I have waited so many lonely years for you to come into my life, I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. If keeping you at my side meant subduing that part of me, hiding it from you forever, I was prepared to do that.”

Kaila narrowed her eyes at him. “Yet you’re constantly going on and on about how I should trust you, believe in your love. You have ragged me daily about how beautiful I am in your sight, how outward imperfections are nothing when seen through the eyes of love.”

“Kaila, you can’t understand…”

“You’re damned straight I can’t.” Her agitated riposte rolled right over his bumbling excuse. “I can’t understand how you could do this to me. I don’t know if we can survive this, Pavel.”

Pavel swallowed, cold fear settling in the pit of his belly. “I don’t understand why you’re so angry when I was only trying to protect you.”

“Oooh, Pavel…!” Face twisted in a frown, Kaila jumped up on the bed and grabbed two fistfuls of his hair. She yanked his head down to hers and yelled into his face, her words thick with tears. “I am angry because you’ve hurt me. I am furious because you make me crazy. You can’t trust in my love for you because yours doesn’t exist. You might say you love me with your mouth, but you prove you don’t by your actions.”

He covered her hands with his, found hers cold under his grasp. “I do. I swear I do!”

She snatched her hands from under his and backed away across the mattress. “If you really loved me you’d have given me a chance to prove I’d matured, wasn’t still so shallow I’d judge you by appearances. Instead, you didn’t trust me enough to be honest with me.”

He slumped, acknowledging the truth of her accusations. “I’m so sorry.”

She gaped at him in disbelief. “You’re sorry!”

“Please forgive me, Kaila --”

“You’re sorry? By that, would you mean the, I’ve-got-a-footlong-fissure-in-my-chest-where-my-heart-used-to-be-and-you-want-to-put-a-Band-Aid-on-it kind of sorry?”

It was his turn to flinch.

Her gaze turned hard. “And just what the hell was that out in the office -- you telling me not to hide my body from you when you were doing that exact thing with me? Double standard, much?” She sneered.

He couldn’t but agree with her. “Yes.”

She burst into tears, and it wasn’t dainty or ladylike. Her pain was primal and raw. Beholding it made him sick at heart. Her anguish ripped at him like steel barbs imbedded in his flesh. Wanting to comfort her, Pavel reached for her. When she flinched back, shaking her head, he froze in midgesture. Fisting his hands, he let them drop to his sides. His entire body ached. He needed to hold her so badly, wanted to fill his empty arms with her soft round curves, but he’d lost that privilege.

Pavel wanted to howl. If anyone else had been responsible for hurting her like this, causing her to cry such agonized tears, he would’ve had their guts for garters. That he alone was the culprit, the reason for her sadness was almost more than he could bear.

Rickard was right. For all his high-sounding words, he was nothing but a cowardly low-life bastard. It was time to stop protecting himself and start putting Kaila first.

Unable to face her, seeing her rejection mirrored on her face, he moved and stood at the foot of the bed, turned away from her.

“You deserve to know the truth, the whole truth. I murdered my father.”

He heard her gasp, heard the mattress springs squeaking as she plopped down. The rustling of the covers told him she’d settled under the blankets. “You fought him in a fair challenge fight. That’s not murder.”

Pavel started to turn, stopped himself. Taking a deep breath, he let it out in a rush of air. “Mother Moon, I’m scared to death sharing this with you, Kaila. I can only get through it if you let me do so without interruption.” He hated hearing the shakiness in his voice.

He waited in vain for an answer. “Well…?”

“What do you mean, well? Make up your mind. Do you want me to talk or not? Never mind, just get on with the story.”

At her snippy tone, the tightness in Pavel’s chest loosened up. He was actually glad to hear it, for it meant she was regaining some of her normal spirited behavior. With renewed determination to win her at any cost, he closed his eyes and picked up the long buried details of his past.

“In the wulf society, there are three levels of challenges. The lowest, a challenge for position in the pack, is rarely deadly. The second in magnitude is the honor challenge. A wulf that has offered insult, or a mate found cheating, could be subject to this type of duel. This challenge also is rarely to the death, usually ending with first blood spilled. Accidents happen, so I cannot tell you that these two types of challenges never end with someone dying. What I can tell you is that a challenge for leadership, a hostile takeover of the Alpha position, always ends in the death of one of the combatants.” He paused. “Are you with me so far?”

A heavy sigh sounded behind him. “Far as I can tell, you haven’t gone anywhere yet. I’ve never before known someone who likes to beat around the bush so much.”

His shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. Even in the mist of angst and anxiety, she brought him that relief. He refused to contemplate the arid desert his life would become without her in it. Now, more so than ever, he renewed his vow to see that never happened.

“Unlike the two lesser challenges, the battle for leadership is bound about with tradition and rules. So stylized has the contest become that a participant could actually win the fight yet lose his life if it is determined he has broken the law governing the fight. The entire pack would feel justified in joining to rip apart the offender. The foremost law of a leadership challenge is the stricture that the entire fight takes place with both wulves wearing fur form. At no time is either wulf to assume the battle, or mid-form. That form is for enemies, for executions, and we consider its use a dishonorable alternative to fighting in our natural four-legged bodies.”

“Gee, Pavel, I’m finding this history lesson fascinating, but could you speed it up? I don’t have much time. I found a new gray hair just the other day.”

This time he chuckled aloud. “What did I say about interruptions?”

“You’ll have to refresh my memory,” she drawled. “That conversation happened so long ago.”

Pavel rejoiced. Thankfully, his Kaila couldn’t hold a grudge. Those were jokes she lobbed at him, though served with a side dish of her sharp acerbic wit. “I’ll try to hurry.”

“Huh!” She sounded exasperated. “Let’s see if I can help you cut to the chase. You obviously broke one or more of the dueling rules. That’s why you say you murdered your father.”

Pavel snorted at her oversimplification of the facts. “It was a little worse than breaking the rules. I never issued challenge, just caught him unawares and killed him.”

The bedding rustled and he couldn’t resist a quick peek over his shoulder. Kaila was sitting up on her knees, the expression in her light brown eyes one of shocked speculation, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d heard. “Wanna run that by me again?”

“I’d barely turned sixteen, hadn’t developed much muscle, and definitely was nowhere near my father’s weight category.” Pavel began recounting the events that had changed his life, his voice droning on in level tones, his emotions distanced by the passage of years. “I never could have taken him in a head-on fight. I was only able to ambush him because he had taken pains to make sure I was far away from the remote cave where he planned to deliver Rickard to his uncle, Doryian.”

The bleak memory of a bound Rickard -- face wan, pale eyes wild with terror -- sparked an echo of the blazing conflagration, that vast anger he’d felt so long ago, and a growl rumbled in his throat. “Traitors!” he snarled. “They were oath breakers and destroyers of dens who would kill a father and his innocent boy to rule a kingdom!”

“Whoa, calm down!” Kaila’s worried voice reached through the mists of memory, pulled him back into the now.

Pavel opened his eyes, but he could still see the oddly warm, multichambered cave he and Rickard had dubbed their fortress, comfortingly playing make-believe soldiers all through the frozen winter months. He could still hear the men talking, preparing to snuff out a life dear to him, a life he had vowed to protect.

“Destiny hinges on such little things sometimes, things as small as a wooden yo-yo. He’d left it behind the day before, you see, and I went back for it, though he told me not to bother. I knew how much he loved the silly thing.”

“That was sweet of you, Pavel.”

Pavel cocked his head, taking a deep breath, stared at her without really focusing, deeply immersed in that another time. “Strange, I remember Doryian saying something to that effect.” After years of suppressing the painful events, he marveled at how easily it all came back.

“It was fun sneaking away from home. I ran to the cave cluster, keeping to the woods, downwind from the sentries at the edges of pack land. Instead of simply going through the front entry, I decided to climb down what we called the blowhole; a smooth narrow fissure in the rock leading down several hundred feet to open out in a small chamber at the back of the second biggest chamber. Rickard and I had planned to climb it together, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity of going first to navigate it so I could have bragging rights.

“As luck, or providence would have it, the room served as a funnel for the entire labyrinth of interlocking caves, sort of a natural exhaust system. The wind blew up in the direction of the blowhole, gathering scents from all areas of the cave, masking my own scent. I smelled them before I saw them. At first, I wasn’t alarmed. What had I to fear from my father? Grand Duke Doryian was also familiar to me, if not well liked. I had started down the corridor to greet them when I heard the duke saying, ‘How sweet of you. I thank you for delivering this wonderful gift, my Yanosh. You are my sweet, sweet lover.’

“There was a something in his voice that made me uncomfortable, and here was another strange thing” -- Pavel stopped and thought about how he wanted to word this -- “I knew my father was in the room because his scent was strong in my nostrils, but I could not hear him. By that, I mean his mental presence was missing. I could not access him with my thoughts. That in itself was enough to make me cautious and so I crept along the walls, keeping in the shadows and staying downwind.

“A gust of wind passed, carrying the mingled odors of sex, male wulf, and…blood! I was tempted to doubt my nose, but my father had instilled within me the truth that scent does not lie. There was a natural blind, a crevice in the rock between the second and first chambers. I slipped in, going to my knees to peek around the corner. I needn’t have worried; it would have taken an earthquake to get their attention.

“My sire was crouching on his haunches in fur form. The man standing over him was the Prince’s brother, Grand Duke Doryian Orloffberg, twin brother to our ruler. He was stroking my father’s thick ruff, patting him and praising him like one would a dog that’d brought back the stick. Running his hands up and down my sire’s flanks, fingers brushing along the outside of his balls, he kept passing his thumb across the head of my father’s cock. The hugely distended organ protruded out of its sheath, the red swollen tip already leaking fluid.

“The Duke kept chanting, ‘Does doggy want a bone? Doggy want a big thick bone?’ while he unfastened his pants and pulled out his own limp cock. At least, it was limp until, with a needy whine, my father sat up and buried his muzzle in the other male’s crotch, mouthing and licking his flaccid member until it rose and stiffened. Once the duke’s dick was hard, he snapped his fingers and my sire turned like a well-trained pup, presenting his flanks. Doryian grabbed Yanosh’s tail, used it to yank his hindquarters up, and proceeded to butt-fuck the Alpha Prime of Pack Drestovia.”

“Yuck! Watching your father take it up the ass.” She shuddered. “Damn, I bet that was a visual from hell.”

Pavel blinked at Kaila’s exclamation, thankful she’d recalled him to the present. He sucked in a lungful of much needed air. “I believe that pretty accurately describes my sentiments, once I overcame my first response of shock. It wasn’t the anal sex. Our race has too few females for male/male sex not to be prevalent. I think mostly my negative reaction came from seeing a male that had always been the strong, controlling force in my life allowing anyone to treat him so cavalierly.

“The second shock was seeing him in that situation at all. As you know, bonded wulves are faithful, never straying from their mates. That my father was here with Doryian Orloffberg, sexually responsive to him could only mean one thing.

“I was young and naïve. I wanted my parents to be in love. Realizing Doryian Orloffberg was my father’s true-bond mate meant having to accept that my mother was not. I wanted to hate Doryian for that, but I couldn’t. Finding one’s true-bond mate is a rare thing, but when it happens, the connection is instantaneous and unbreakable.”

He gazed into Kaila’s eyes, feeling vulnerable as he opened his soul to her, begged her to see him. “The term ‘true-bond mate’ is simply another way of saying soul mate. You are my soul mate Kaila, and if you are honest, you’ll admit that I am yours.”

He watched as the expression on her face grew distant and remote. His spirits fell, though he refused to give up hope. She just needed more time to reconcile her anger with her love. He’d give her what he could, but he was fast running out of narrative and time.

“At that point, I had no concerns, other than feeling disappointed that adults had found our secret hideaway. It was as I was making my stealthy way back to the far chambers and the second, secret exit that I heard the words that chilled my heart.

“‘You have done well, my love. With Draven taken care of, we can now tie off loose ends. I want to watch you rape the boy,’ Doryian was saying. I snuck back in time to see him brandishing a pistol. ‘I’m going to blow his brains out once you finish, so do try to give him an orgasm, darling. He ought to have at least one before he dies.’

“My sire shifted to skin form and told him, ‘I can’t do him in fur. You’re the only one I want that way.’

“Doryian’s heavy cologne and the overwhelming aroma of their mingled lusts and emissions had cloaked Rickard’s presence. I had scented him all along, but discounted what my nose tried to tell me because over the long months of playing fortress we’d layered our scent throughout the caverns. It was also probably why my sire hadn’t registered my actual presence.

“I think I went a little crazy. My father was a large male, larger than I. His organ was thicker and longer than mine is now. He knew he was too big to take Rickard anally, knew his cock would rip my friend inside. He didn’t care because they were going to kill him anyway.

“I don’t know if I’d have acted the same if they hadn’t threatened my oath brother, but I couldn’t let them hurt Rickard. I’d sworn an oath to him and I was faithful to my word, unlike my sire. It made me sick inside to know the wulf who’d taught me honor had broken oath with Rickard’s father, his overlord.”

“Pavel…” Kaila came to him then, crawling across the bed to pull him down and sit in his lap. Until she wiped his cheeks with her palms, he hadn’t realized his face was wet with tears.

“My only hope lay in surprising them. I tiptoed along the wall, praying I could stay downwind, and risked one last careful glimpse to make sure I knew where the two were located. I grabbed up one of the ragged bones scattered about the floors -- old as the hills, Rickard used to say. It was a long, blunt-ended bone as thick as my leg.”

Pavel tightened his arms around Kaila, using her warmth and love to anchor him as he rushed through the ending. “Doryian stood close to my father, where he could see the action. He didn’t want to miss a moment of watching his nephew’s rape. I hit him first, so hard I heard his skull crack. He went down and I was already stepping over him and swinging at my father’s neck.

“It’s hard to do, but you can kill a wulf if you know the secret. My father had taught it to me and I used it against him. You hit them hard. You hurt them over and over, never giving them time to shift because we heal when we shift. The worse the hurt, the longer it takes to shift. Each shift takes more and more out of you until you can’t. You can’t and you die. I didn’t have the strength to do real damage, not in skin form, so I shifted to battle form and I hit Yanosh the way he’d taught me.

“All the while, Rickard watched me, big eyes unblinking, his mental voice screaming in my head to help, help, help him. He’d wet his pants, so scared when they’d stood over him, let him hear what they would do to him. The smell of urine, and soon blood filled the small space, choking me. I think Yanosh tried to say something, but my head was full of Rickard’s soundless voice. He was all I could hear. Eventually, Yanosh stayed still but I didn’t stop until he shifted to fur form. Then I knew he was dead and not coming back. Fur is our first and final form.”

Traps

 

Brandon tried to concentrate on the mental picture of Rosemary he held in his head, murmuring her name over and over. It was his mantra against the unnatural lust boiling in his gut. One touch, he marveled. How could one touch be all it took to addict him for life? And he hadn’t even received a full dose, hadn’t come into actual contact with the dark god’s flesh. All this from touching a leaf that had been rubbed between the naked fingers of Aricles.

He needed to get home, needed to hold his bitch in his arms, mount her, replace the soul destroying hunger with the sweet refreshment of Rosemary’s fresh taste. She was so gentle, his Rosemary, always ready for him, looking up to him with that expression of love he could no longer live without.

He felt the pull to be one with Aricles rising and fought it with all his being. Knees going weak, he sank to the ground, curling into a ball of screaming need. Aricles was close, moving closer and as he did, the desire to touch him, be fucked by him, was triggered by his proximity.

“I deeply regret the necessity that caused me to inflict you with the effects of my curse, Brandon.” The god simply appeared before him, stepping out of nothingness. Brandon felt the weight of his fathomless black eyes trained on him, an expression of compassion and sorrow softening their dense ebony depths.

Brandon trembled, gasping for air, one hand clenching around his cramping belly. “I don’t. If my pain will help prevent the murders of other innocent humans, I can deal with it.”

Aricles’s eyes softened even more. “An admirable sentiment, young wulf, and an honorable one; however, I hope you will not have to suffer long. I have been experimenting with a new compound: a mixture of Lethe’s tears, which causes forgetfulness, and Orpheus’s lyre music, which grants peace. I am hopeful this potion will assist those suffering from being contaminated by me.”

Gritting his teeth, Brandon stared up as the demigod floated out of arms’ reach above his head and his eyes flashed incandescent as lust detonated, blowing his control to hell. He couldn’t resist the desire any longer, the urge to submit his body to the male that ruled him body and soul. He had to touch Aricles, had to be closer to him. “My lord, I need you, please take me!”

Aricles rose a little higher, making sure he was out of his reach. “Brandon, remember Rosemary. Concentrate on her. We are almost done here. I’ve found the original lair and, I believe, the murder site. There is a name scratched in the dirt. Alice. Perhaps the victim tried to leave us a clue, though I cannot think what that one word would signify.”

Brandon’s eyes lit up. “I know why she did it! He called her that all the time. Delin teased Anita by calling her Alice in Fat Land. She knew we would know who it was when we saw the nickname.”

“Ah, she was a wise woman and canny, to be able to think so clearly during such a horrendous time. I wish I had met her.”

Brandon nodded. “That’s why I hate him so much. She was a real nice lady.” He looked forlorn. “I want to get back to my Rosemary.”

“All this will be over soon,” Aricles promised. “All that’s left to do is set the trap for Delin. To do that, I must go into the future, time-walking in small increments, to determine which location he will use next. Even a god can be lost in the streams of realities, so I’ll need you here, focused, able to anchor me to this specific time. Can you maintain control, not go haring off?”

Shuddering, flesh rippling as he forced the need down with his personal luck charm, Brandon nodded. “Rosemary. Rosemary. Rosemary.”

“Yes, Brandon, Rosemary is your mate, your lover. Focus on her. Tell me again what you’re going to do to Rosemary as soon as you return home?”

“Gonna fuck her,” he growled, seeing only her, smelling her, wanting her. “Gonna fuck her bowlegged!”

Aricles smiled. “You keep that thought uppermost in your mind, young stud. If I’m successful, I’ll be back before I’m gone.”

Mirror, Mirror

 

In his own private set of rooms, Rickard stood before his mirror, clad in a simple black silk robe, the lapels crossed over his hairless chest. He gazed at his reflection, studying the face so many deemed beautiful. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to warrant the universal feminine furor over his looks. He never had.

By beholding, you become changed.

He’d first heard the phrase years ago. An irate Bible thumper had slapped a small mirror in his hand, asking him if he saw Jesus. He’d laughed, replied with some trite riposte, but the truism contained within the short sentence had intrigued him so much, he’d remembered the phrase.

By beholding, you become changed.

Was that what had happened between his father and his uncle? Had Draven Orloffberg’s twin looked upon the trappings of the Crown Prince so long he’d changed into a covetous, grasping villain who could kill his own brother and nephew to gain that position? Rickard would never know, as he hadn’t taken the time to ask before beating Uncle Doryian’s brains out. Unless carried away by carrion, the skeletal remains were still lying in the isolated caves deep in the heart of the Drestovian Mountains.

By beholding, you become changed.

What face did Indigo see when she gazed into her mirror. And with so many faces to choose from, which was the real her? Did she even know? Did cats gaze in mirrors?

Up until the time she turned herself into a cat to escape his advances, Rickard had successfully deluded himself about his feelings for the curvy, white-haired pixie, convincing himself he only suffered from a bad case of instant lust.

Rickard chuckled. If someone had a told him even a day ago that he’d meet a woman who’d snatch his heart right out of his chest, he would have laughed himself silly. The joke would have been on him.

By beholding, you become changed.

Never more than now did Rickard find those words to be true, for in the moment he’d first beheld Indigo Carter, his entire world had changed.

A frightening thought occurred. If this was how Pavel felt about Kaila, he was lucky to be alive. Following fast on the heels of the first, a second thought emerged. The starch in his knees turned to water; Rickard stared with dismay into the reflection of his frantic gaze. When the time came, how in hell would he survive giving Indigo to Pavel for his obligatory night?

Forgiveness

 

“My God, Pavel,” Kaila whispered, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight. “You were just a baby. You shouldn’t have had to go through that.” She could only imagine how the horror of those long ago events must still haunt Rickard and Pavel. She felt sick to her stomach, the shocking narrative something she didn’t think she would ever forget, but had needed to hear.

Pavel buried his head in her lap, his shoulders shaking under the force of his tears.

“Hush! Hush, baby.” Kaila rocked him, ran her hands over his shoulders, smoothed her palms in a calming circle along his upper back. She bent over and kissed the top of his head.

“What happened, Pavel? After your father died, what did you do?” She didn’t really want to know any more, yet somehow, she knew that Pavel needed to tell her, needed to get all the poison out of his system once and for all.

He sat up, sniffing and wiping his eyes, looking like a little boy punished before bedtime. Her heart turned over, so full of love for him at that moment she couldn’t understand her earlier anger. She wanted to go back in time and kill his father for him, so he would never have to live with the guilt and shame he’d carried for so long. Kaila knew she couldn’t help him in that way, but she could listen and not judge him, and at the end of his tale, she could show him how much she loved and admired him.

Pavel stared into her eyes, his pupils glowing a luminous, peridot green, wonder growing in his gaze at her loving expression. His words halting and uncertain, he said, “I don’t see disgust in your eyes. There’s no hatred, or any of the things I thought I would see once you learned the truth about me.”

“Why should you see those things?” she asked, smiling at him. “I don’t feel any of those. Right now, I am so proud of you I could burst.” She brushed at her eyes and breathed out a thankful sigh. “You were a child, Pavel. A child faced with the most basic dilemma: survival. You had to choose between what was right or wrong, make the decision to do nothing or to act upon your convictions.” She squeezed his hands in hers. “In my eyes, you made the right decision. I honor you for that.”

Pavel shook his head. “I don’t see how you could feel that way when I betrayed everything I was that day. I don’t deserve to be Alpha of this Pack. What I did wasn’t a fair fight, wasn’t honorable or honest. By rights, the pack should have torn me apart.”


Kaila groaned in exasperation. She loved this man, this wulf, but sometimes he could be so bullheaded. “You saved a friend by any means necessary. I’m sorry if this sounds harsh or judgmental, but your father was a villain. A bad guy. And that fellow, Doryian Orloffberg, was just filth. I say good riddance to bad rubbish!”

Pavel threw back his head and laughed. “By the Moon Goddess, Kaila, there is none like you!”

Kaila shrugged her shoulders, pretending to be humble. “Yeah, I’m one of a kind. Aren’t you lucky?”

“Beyond measure…” Pavel leaned forward, captured her lips, his soft yet firm on hers. His mouth tasted salty, the residue of his tears coating his lips, and Kaila licked the bottom one before catching it between her teeth. When they parted, both were breathing hard.

Pavel leaned in again, but Kaila halted him with a finger across his lips. “First, tell me what happened in that cave.”

“I untied Rickard. They’d bound him so tight that the ropes had scored deep gouges at his wrist and ankles, cutting off his circulation making his hands and feet to swell grotesquely. I wanted to carry him back to the castle, but he refused to go.”

Casting an apologetic glance her way, Pavel took her hand, holding onto it as he continued the story to the end. She said nothing, placing her other hand over theirs, cradling his large hand between both her palms. “Go on,” she urged gently, “finish it.”

“He had to have been hurting like a motherfucker, but Rickard hobbled over to where his uncle lay on the ground, still passed out from the blow to his head. He had begun to moan, though, so we knew he was alive.

“Rickard picked up his uncle’s gun from the floor of the cave. It was eerie, listening to Rickard, he sounded so much older, as if he’d grown up and grown old in the last hour. He said, ‘Doryian Orloffberg, you killed your own twin brother, your sovereign, and you were willing to murder me -- your nephew -- as well. Your plans have failed, and by God’s grace and your own machinations, I am now His Royal Highness, Prince Wagner Rupert Rickard Orloffberg, ruler of Drestovia. My first act of ruler is to find you guilty of crimes against the State. Your crimes are sedition, conspiracy to foment a rebellion, and the most heinous of all, the conspiracy to commit regicide, which you carried out with the murder of my father. All these crimes are capital crimes of high treason and are punishable by death. Your execution will be carried out now.’” Pavel looked at her, tightened his grip on her hands. “And then he placed the gun to the base of his uncle’s neck and shot him through the back of the head, blew his brains out. We left the bodies in the cave and never went back.”

“Well!” Kaila drew the word out, not sure of what to say. Though gruesome, the story’s ending seemed just to Kaila. “Good for Rickard.”

“Now you tell me something.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “What do you want to know?”

His eyes narrowed down to angry slits. “Who told you about the battle form? Who betrayed their oath to me?”

Kaila smiled. “No one betrayed you. While you and Hunter were having your secretive meeting, Melody and I had a long, productive talk. She gave me quite an extensive course in Breed 101.”

Reflections

 

“Trying to see what others find so appealing?”

Rickard swung around, heart pounding a happy tattoo. Indigo leaned indolently against the doorway between the bedroom and hall, her lithe body unashamedly bare. His eyes found nothing shame worthy. It was all good. “You’re awake.”

She tilted her head, eyes dancing. “And no longer a cat…though still a pussy.”

Rickard lowered his lashes, shielding his gaze. “I behaved like a cretin. Allow me to apologize for my actions by taking you to dinner.” He laid a hand over his heart. “My word as an Orloffberg of Drestovia, I will offer you no inappropriate advances.”

“Wow,” Indigo drawled, straightening from her position in the door and sauntering slowly toward him. “That would certainly be some impressive assurance, supposing a woman wished to receive such.”

She circled him, trailing her finger chest-high along his flesh, over his robe, across his silk clad back, and then around to his chest again as she made a complete circuit, ending with her finger pressed firmly against his chest bone.

Rickard captured her finger and brought it to his mouth, lapped the top with the tip of his tongue. “What are you doing, Indigo?”

“Touching you, learning you.” She eased her finger from his grasp, twirled away from him laughing. “Perhaps I am teasing you. Perhaps I am seducing you. Which would you prefer?”

He preferred to keep her guessing. She didn’t need to learn how much power she already wielded over him. Rickard canted his head, smiled at her, turning his body to keep her in view. “I would prefer dinner.”

She finished her circling and stood facing him, an elusive smile on her full lips. “I, on the other hand, would prefer you.” Indigo brushed up against his chest, nipples beading as they pressed against the hard smoothness of his chest and the soft silk of his robe. “Perhaps you would prefer you, also?” A shimmer, a wave of heat, and her body dissolved. When Indigo reappeared, she was him.

His lips smiled at him. His eyes twinkled with amusement, sparkled like costly jewels. Pale silver-blond hair cascaded from his slightly off centered part to float to his shoulders. He was beautiful, body tall and muscled, trim belly, tight thighs, and buttocks. Rickard found himself standing toe-to-toe with his exact image, stunned at the lust sweeping through him.

Bold hands -- his hands -- landed on his shoulders, pushing his robe off and down. “There, now we are equally naked. My, my, look at that!” A playful tap on his jutting cock drew attention to his decidedly interested reaction. “Don’t we love ourself, though?”

Nonplussed, Rickard watched his cock spring up in response to the sight of his own body. This had never happened before. His reaction made no sense to him, yet here was his penis, distended and swollen, throbbing like a sore tooth.

“Indigo,” Rickard sputtered, choking, not knowing how to defend his erection. “You can’t just go around wearing other people’s faces…please, I…” He broke off, unable to put in words what he was feeling. Conceit wasn’t something he suffered from. He had never cared much for his looks, which made it hard to understand why he had sprouted such a steel boner. It was too confusing…until he caught her gaze and saw her intellect looking back through his eyes. Realization dawned. He wasn’t reacting to his body, per se. He was still reacting to Indigo, only now in his body.

He knew, knew Indigo’s soul was inside that construction that resembled his admittedly handsome body. She remained her own distinct person, regardless what form she wore. She was wearing his features as temporary clothing, but it was her essence triggering his libido, not an attraction to his own body. All he had to do was get past his own face to the woman beneath.

When Rickard relaxed, so did his cock. It needn’t have. His arousal no longer bothered him now that he a logical reason to explain it.

With that behind him, Rickard gave in to his curiosity. “How do you do that? How do you affect such an exact likeness?”

“I am a multimorph, a touch shifter. Surface things, I can duplicate with just a look. More complex things -- living cells, thinking beings -- require more detail.”

“So, is this just surface?” Rickard asked, indicating the body she wore. “Or is it true cellular metamorphosis?”

Rickard hadn’t known his brow arched in so high a curve until she sent the one she wore winging. “Once I touch anyone, I can craft a body that is closer to the original than cloning.” She stroked her body sensuously. “This body could get a woman pregnant and the blood tests would come back matched to yours one hundred percent.”

“Good God!”

She smiled at his horrified expression. “Not to worry, babe. I’d never do that. One Rickard Orloffberg is enough for the world to deal with for now. But I see you know something about shifting with your talk about cellular versus surface transformation.”

He shrugged. “I live with wulves. I’ve always been interested in learning how they do what they do. Though most of the pack scientists like to keep their knowledge to themselves, I read everything I can get my hands on.”

She spread his hands out at her side. “If you like, you can get your hands on this. In fact, tell me where you want them to go…” Indigo placed her/his hands on her belly, lowered them until they framed the cock bobbing between strong, straight legs. “Do you like what you see as much as I do? Wouldn’t you like to fuck this body?”

“I’ve never been into masturbation. At best, it’s a stopgap. When I want sex, I go find it, or order it in. I own several fashion magazines, so I know without conceit that my body is a present fad, but I’m not much of a narcissist. So, thanks but no thanks.”

“No?” Indigo frowned, idly playing with her cock.

Rickard’s cock stirred.

“Please don’t tell me you’re straight vanilla.”

He had just enough brain cells left to shake his head side-to-side.

“So you do enjoy a little bi action?” Her hand was pumping up and down.

He nodded his head up and down. “With the right man.”

“But still not interested in this model?”

“Spare me.” Rickard groaned, shaking his head once more. God, he didn’t know what the fuck he was feeling. All he knew was she fascinated him. He wanted to see how far she would go, if she had a stopping point, but the investigation might kill him. Thank God Aricles had clued him in on her vision, warned him she would try to alienate him in an effort to protect him.

She shrugged. “Shame. It looks yummy to me. What’s the problem, cock not long enough? I could fix that…”

Suddenly, the cock between her legs was growing, lengthening until it hung grotesquely erect, but so heavy the weight of it dragged it down. The damned bulbous head hovered less than an inch above the floor.

Rickard’s mouth sagged open. “God’s toenails, woman, that’s gross! You can’t even pick that monstrosity up. If you could, and get it aimed, where the fuck do you think you’d be putting it?”

Head tilted to the side, Indigo eyed the cock with a touch of pride. “I don’t know…I think it looks manly. Still, I suppose you’re right…there is a point where bigger ceases to be better. Of course, I could stretch to accommodate this lovely specimen, however” -- she eyed his butt, considering -- “I don’t think you could.”

Rickard put a hand over his eyes. “Let’s not try and say we didn’t!”

She sighed dejectedly as the cock shrank back to human size, back to the familiar nine inches he’d once called to her attention. “Okay, but if you ever want to…?”

Rickard grimaced, thinking nine inches looked almost tiny, considering. “Honestly? Many thanks but…er… no. I don’t think I’ll ever feel safe enough to let you anywhere near the back lot. I’d always have a lurking suspicion that something would, uh, implode.”

He/she held up two fingers together, an old scout salute. “My word as me -- whichever me I am at the time -- I would never feed you more of me than you could handle.”

Rickard bit back a smile. She was having so much fun he regretted it had to end, but he couldn’t wait to escort her about and introduce her to her future -- though he daren’t tell her so, yet -- subjects. “Well, now that you’ve had your fun, shall we dress and go have dinner?”

His mirror image pouted. “I’m not hungry…for food. We haven’t done anything to work up an appetite.”

God, but that is a cute expression. He’d have to use it more often; however, it wasn’t working on him. Straightening to his full stature, he said, “Indigo, give it up. You’re not ready for a relationship. You turned into a cat, for goodness sakes. So, I’m not going to fuck you and I’m certainly not going to fuck myself. That leaves us with dinner out or in. Which do you choose?”

Indigo gazed at him out of his eyes, her/his…her eyes, damn it! Assuming the same stance he had, she mocked his presentation. “Rickard, someone’s going to give it up. Since you’ve refused to fuck me, or fuck yourself, I guess that means I’m fucking you.”

She swaggered up close, grabbed his penis and squeezed, stopping before the grip became too painful. “Let’s get you lubed up and ready, hon. You’re the girl, tonight.”

Rickard removed her hand from his rising cock, his stomach muscles twitching at her forceful words. Maybe she had no stopping point. Maybe he didn’t want her to have one. He hadn’t been lying when he admitted to being a switch, someone who liked both being controlled and controlling the action during sex. “You’re not serious? You really think you can Dom me?” Did his voice sound too hopeful?

Indigo shook off Rickard’s hand and returned hers to his cock. Holding it with the head pushing into her palm, she said, “Look at me.”

Rickard looked up and into his most serious expression. He knew that implacable look, that intractable will that said my way or heads roll. He ought to. He wore it often.

“You better believe I’m the one you will answer to. If you play with me, you play in one sandbox. I might be a cat, but I don’t stray, and you’d better not, either.”

Rickard gulped, nodded. “I’m not interested in anyone but you, Indigo.”

His other self snorted. “Wasn’t that you in Kaila and Pavel’s bed three nights ago?”

Rickard stiffened. “That was private,” he snapped. “It was Drestovian business.”

Indigo wagged his cock. “You don’t have private from me, mister. Talk.”

He understood his life would change, but Rickard hadn’t readied himself for it to be so swift in coming. He resented her questions, her demands on his intimate heart. Anger swamped his good sense and he told her more than she needed to know. “By ancient Drestovian law, the head of the kingdom’s military forces can only marry with the approval of the prince. The first night of that marriage belongs to the prince. In return, the bride of the ruling prince spends her first night of marriage with the captain of the royal guard. Both nights constitute secondary marriages, binding the two families into one.”

Behind his eyes, Indigo’s quick intellect calculated the angles. “Only one night?”

Rickard nodded curtly. “Just the one.”

A huge grin split the familiar face. “No problem! If we ever get married, you can be the bride. That way, you can have what you’ve always wanted: to get fucked by Pavel.”

“Please don’t tease like that,” Rickard requested quietly. “Pavel Janecek saved my life at great personal cost. I revere him above all others. I won’t lie to you. I’ve loved him for so many years, I don’t think I’ll ever learn to stop, and while it’s sexual as hell, it’s not a bisexual love. We haven’t been intimate for over thirty years. And what happened three nights ago didn’t go beyond a kiss between us.”

A skeptical eyebrow arched above speculating eyes. “We’re not counting the cocks meeting inside Kaila, then?”

Rickard put his hands on his hips. “No, we are not and where the hell are you getting your information?”

Rickard2 smirked. “Cats prowl and in two days, they can learn a lot.”

Rickard chose to ignore that leading comment in the pursuit of peace. “We might as well dress and go to dinner since I’ve lost the mood. I don’t much feel like making love.”

“In a paraphrase of the popular song, what’s love got to do with fucking? I will quickly get you back in the mood, because I want you and I intend to have you.”

“We have a slight problem, then. I prefer being Dommed by women. I don’t enjoy being dominated by a man.”

“Do you mean to tell me you topped Pavel? As Alpha as he is?”

Rickard gave a short nod. “What part of over thirty years ago didn’t you hear? I was older, he was virginal.”

Indigo’s voice softened, turned pleading. “Please, Rickard, don’t be angry. I really want this. I need to be with you tonight, now. I can please you, give you sensations you’ve never before experienced. I’m a shifter,” Indigo reminded him. “Just tell me what you like. Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll give it to you. Do you want short red hair, long red hair, or no hair?”

As she/he spoke, his/her body merged into the different forms, reminding Rickard of that computer-morphing program that seamlessly shifts through different people, putting faces on dogs and making cats talk.

“Dark skin, light skin, or any shade in between. Do you like barely-there breasts, just a handful, or overflowing? Will you have your pussy furred or shaved?” She winked, sharing the joke of her recent incarnation as a cat with him. “Animal, mineral, or vegetable? May I have your order, please?”

Rickard wanted to please her, wanted her just as badly as she professed to want him, but she couldn’t have it all her own way. He was a switch, not a doormat. “First, you have to get rid of my body. And please, don’t ever put it on again.”

“I’ll agree with taking it off tonight, but not the part about not wearing it again.”

Rickard reluctantly nodded. He would choose his battles with Indigo carefully. Didn’t make sense to fight a battle he couldn’t win. Contemplating all the possibilities, Rickard chuckled, mentally rubbing his hands together.

Indigo was a veritable smorgasbord! With her, he could indulge all his myriad preferences. She was the ultimate in having your cake and eating it, too, enabling him to taste a variety of carnal dishes while remaining true to one partner, which was his new preference. He rimmed his lips with his tongue, something he did when nervous, and decided to take a chance, to launch himself out the airplane of honesty and hope his freefall didn’t end in a large splat.

“I love the softness of a woman’s skin, how her hair falls over my lap when she’s sucking me. I adore how she smells, the lush curves of her breast and the hot, clasping intimacy of her tight pussy. I love it when the woman tells me what she wants, love being able to fulfill her every desire. But, sometimes, after we’re finished and she’s lying sated, beside me, I wish” -- Rickard hesitated, balking now that he had come to full disclosure.

“You wish you were the one who’d gotten fucked?”

He sighed in relief at having his thoughts put into words. “Yes.”

“Wagner” -- she pronounced it in the Teutonic way, replacing the W with V so it sounded like “Vagner” -- “have you never been taken anally?”

Rickard closed his eyes, surprised to feel shyness. “I’ve had women penetrate me with fair-sized dildos, never the real deal, though.”

“Is this something you want?”

Honesty, Rickard, he goaded his cowardly alter ego. We’re still freefalling, here. “Yes, it is.”

Indigo changed before his face, her form softening and melting, growing and shrinking as she reformed into the culmination of all Rickard’s desires. He stared, fascinated, while she took on the form she’d worn when they first met; the petite, but rounded body instantly turning his cock into a fiery brand burning at his groin. Her pale hair was longer, past her shoulders, and her breasts were larger, cushiony, and full. Her torso nipped in to a tiny waist, hips wide and generous, something to hold on to during the turbulence he knew would accompany their loving.

Rickard more than liked what he saw but when his eyes dropped to her thighs, they widened in shocked appreciation.

Indigo sported a cock modeled on his own nine-inch penis -- thick, long, ready…sitting where a woman’s clit would -- and snug beneath the cock, a lush, wet pussy where a man’s balls usually hung!

He looked up, wide eyes meeting hers and everything in him seemed to swing toward her, his body a needle orienting on true north. He’d found his home.

Drawn like metal to magnet, he walked toward her, his cock full and tight, bursting with the need to be hers. She grinned when he reached her, teeth flashing in that wild, carefree smile that set his world ablaze. “So, does this package satisfy your specifications?”

His voice reverent, he whispered, “Oh, God, yes.”

“Tell me what you want, Rickard. Tell me and know I’ll hold you to it.”

“I want to please you, suck your nipples and give you a thousand kisses, massage your feet, suck your beautiful cock. I want to fuck you until you scream and then” -- his breath caught, eyes dropping back to that familiar cock -- “and then I want you to fuck me.”

Still smiling, she reached around and swatted his tense butt cheeks. “I can get behind that idea! Where do you keep your lube?”

Bargaining Chip

 

There had to be a way off this fucking island and he was going to find it. Delin loped away from his favorite den, disgruntled over his latest failure to extract those pilots from the jet. Damned males were like sardines stuffed in a can without that little key. He couldn’t pry them out.

He should never have left the mainland. For the life of him, he could not remember what had enticed him to take this job. While the pay had been good, the best he’d ever made, no amount of cash could make up for his loss of freedom.

He belonged in the city, just one among the crowds milling like cattle, where he could disappear for years. The city’s back alleys and deserted urban construction sites offered a never-ending supply of fresh human meat, humans that would never be missed.

They were guarding all the chickens when he was after the rooster. All he had to do was cause a diversion that would have them circling the wagons around the wrong campfire; then he’d secure his true prey.

This time he would get it right. He’d thought about it, plotted every move, and knew just whom he would take as leverage. That damned Alpha would do anything for his pansy friend, Prince Rickard. Therefore, he’d take Orloffberg, bargain with his life for a way off this island, and live to eat another day.

Sweet Treats

 

Like a kid finally on the right side of the window of the candy store, Rickard couldn’t wait to snatch at the sweet confection before him. Greedy in his need, he cupped her breast, palmed a pert nipple and got his hand slapped for his efforts.

“No, dear. You don’t get to touch me unless I give permission.”

Rickard licked his lips, excitement rushing through his veins as he rubbed the back of his hand. She hadn’t hit to hurt him, just applied enough pressure to sting. “Give me permission then, my lady. I’m hungry for you.”

She held her arms out at her side. “What would you taste first?”

Rickard laughed, groaning, “Cruel woman, to taunt a starving man with such choices. The bounty is so great I’ll starve to death trying to make up my mind.”

She tilted her head, observed him from beneath half lowered lids. “Shall I decide for you, then?”

His cock twitched at her suggestive tone. Rickard trembled under the hot gaze she trained on him, but opted to make his own decision. “Give me your mouth. I’ve wanted to kiss you from the moment I saw you coming out of the jungle, looking as primal and wild as the animals that dwell in its hidden heart.”

“Where would you like me to put my mouth, darling?” Indigo came to him, body moving with fluid grace, her cock swaying full and upright between her soft, feminine thighs. She caught him looking at it and smiled. “Just think of it as an overdeveloped clit, designed for dual pleasure: yours and mine.”

Rickard couldn’t take his eyes off the body she’d configured for him. He kept switching his gaze between her lush breasts and that long, straining shaft, wanting both at the same time. A twinge of guilt had him offering to see to her needs before taking his own gratification. “Would you like me to give you pleasure first?”

“Let’s please each other,” Indigo purred, stepping into his arms and offering her lips.

Accepting her invitation, Rickard slanted his mouth over hers, impatient for a taste of her sly little tongue, groaning as her unique flavor burst in his mouth. She was sweet, tasting like fresh pear and bright springtime sunshine.

The kiss was wet and wild and wickedly wanton, just like the woman he held, making Rickard crave more. He slid one muscled leg between hers, hair-dusted skin meeting silken naked flesh as her cock and pussy rubbed along his thigh, leaving damp trails of precum and feminine honey. He tore his mouth away to catch his breath. “God, Indigo, I love the way you taste, the way you feel against me.”

“It’s glorious, isn’t it?” She swept her tongue across her bottom lip, the slow, sensuous movement capturing his gaze, locking his attention on her sweet, sweet mouth. “I can still taste you on my lips. I want more.”

Her hands went flat against his back, pressing him closer, and he helped, bringing their two bodies together so they meshed at mouth, shoulders and bellies, groins sliding, cocks bumping. When her hand closed over his heated length, he stilled a moment, almost overcome by the strong sensations slicing through him.

“Yes!” Rickard threw back his head, roaring at the pleasure of her snug grasp. He sent his hand searching, closed around her penis and squeezed, milking her rod until she shuddered, halting his hand. “If you don’t stop, I’ll come and it’ll be all over before we really get started. Get me to the bed,” she gasped. “My knees are too weak to keep standing.”

He’d made his woman weak-kneed! Feeling proud of himself, Rickard laughed and grabbed her hand, tugging her over to his bed. Once there, he turned to embrace her but Indigo held him off. “Lube, dear. Go get it.”

A wave of nerve-tingling anticipation did a rollercoaster circuit around his stomach, and Rickard’s mouth went dry. With a jerky nod and quick whoosh of breath, he went into the bathroom, opened the cabinet, and brought back a thick tube of Super Silky and a box of condoms. Throwing a couple of towels over his shoulder, he went back to the bedroom, his steps eager.

Indigo smiled wide when she saw what he carried. “Good thing one of us is thinking.”

Rickard shrugged. “Safe sex should always be forethought, not an afterthought.”

“You’re right, and to reward your diligence, I have something for you.”

“Besides your delectable body?” he asked, curious to see what she thought constituted a reward.

She held up an object between her thumb and forefinger, that wicked glint back in her eyes, shining bright as starlight.

“Is that a cock ring?”

She nodded. “It is, indeed.” Indigo sat on the bed. “Come here and let me get you ready for it.”

He obeyed, but with a slight hesitation in both thought and step. He’d worn rings a few times and had never found them enjoyable. For Indigo, he’d endure, but didn’t think she would get the results she expected.

“No need for such a glum face.” She beckoned him closer by her gentle tugs on his partially deflated cock. “I give you my word, you’ll appreciate this later. And right now,” she added, grinning up at him, “you’re definitely going to enjoy the prep.” She put her smiling mouth around his cock, swallowing him halfway to his balls, and began to suck him with strong, rhythmic pulls.

“Arghhh!” Rickard cried wildly, sight dimming at the sudden suctioning pull. His cock jumped to full straining length, the head growing in her mouth until her lips stretched taut around his new bulk. Talk about weak knees; Rickard’s almost gave way as he grabbed bunches of her hair in his fists and clung for dear life while Indigo took him on a whirlwind ride.

She pulled back to look up at him, his cock falling free with a soppy plop. “You liked that, lover?”

“God, yes!” Rickard struggled to get air into his strangled lungs. “For the Moon’s sake, Indigo, don’t stop!” he begged, arching his hips toward her teasing mouth. The room’s balmy air chilled his exposed flesh, which had become used to the cauldron of her mouth. The blunt, leaking head smeared a trail of silky clear fluid across her lips.

“I have to, Rickard,” she explained, reaching back and patting the mattress in a blind search for the cock ring. “As your top, it’s my duty to make sure of your pleasure.”

“I was feeling plenty until you stopped,” he complained. He forlornly fisted his cock, held it toward her lips as he assured her, “I’ll feel a whole lot more pleasure once you take me back in your mouth.” He couldn’t help the desperation coloring his words. He wanted her lips wrapped around him again, more than he’d wanted anything in a long, long time.

Instead of doing as he hoped, Indigo kissed the smooth, circumcised head, licking the dribbles off in a tongue-swirling move that had Rickard’s balls pulling up. “Mama knows better, sweetie. Now keep holding your cock just like that and stand still while I slip this on…” She secured the device with sure movements, her fingers knowledgeable and deft and then tightened the ring down until he flinched. “Too snug?”

He shook his head, speaking through gritted teeth. “It’s supposed to be snug or it wouldn’t be effective.”

Indigo stroked his length, caressed his balls firmly. “Yes, but we want you restrained, not strangled. I have too many plans for this delicious fellow to injure him.” She stood up, keeping her grip on his penis, and kissed him deeply. “Stretch out on the bed. I want you nice and comfy while I’m lubing you up and making you come.”

The ring’s function was to make sure he didn’t come. “Indigo, have you used one of these before? I can’t come while wearing one.”

She swatted him on the butt. “Of course you can, silly. You just can’t ejaculate.”

Rickard eyed her askance, having a care for his balls. He didn’t want them imploding or some such crazy shit. He said as much, adding, “Is that safe?”

Indigo looked up from uncapping the lube. “Do you need a safe word?” She grimaced. “I don’t usually do this topping stuff so I keep forgetting what I should be doing. We need to establish an escape hatch so you’ll feel safe.”

Why did she have to put it like that? All Rickard’s manly pride came to the forefront. “I don’t need any safe word. I know you won’t hurt me.”

She raised her brows, mild curiosity evident in her wide blue eyes. “None of us know the capacity another has to harm us until we put ourselves in their power. At which point, it becomes moot, either way.”

Rickard shrugged. “A safe word is only as good as your partner’s word. If I trust you to stop when I use the safe word, it is because I trust in your honor.”

Indigo breathed deeply, looking at him with an enigmatic smile. “My role is to give you ultimate pleasure, but how will I know if the means I utilize is more than you can bear?”

“I’ll tell you.”

She shook her head. “I will not push you further, but having a safe word is the responsible course when engaging in any consensual sex, not just the BDSM scene, Wagner. Mine is meemaw.” She waved a hand staving off his objection when he would have disagreed. “You are a man of the world, far more knowledgeable than I in these matters. It is always possible to become caught up in the scene. Things can get out of hand fairly quickly.”

Despite saying she wouldn’t push, Rickard figured Indigo couldn’t let it go. He’d noticed that she erred on the side of too damned strict when it came to safety. “Blue. That’s my safe word.”

“Wonderful.” Her face lit up. “Now we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s turn our attention to fucking, shall we?” She indicated the bed again. “Lie down and turn on your side.”

Rickard did as she asked, lying on the bed with his chin propped on the palm of his right hand. He watched her rubbing her hands together quickly. “What are you doing, warming the lube?”

“Yes.” She gave him a quick, flashing grin before working one of her small fingers past his sphincter.

Rickard jumped. He knew enough to push out against the pressure of her finger, though, and the slick digit sank in with little resistance. “Warn me next time!”

“You big baby, that was just one finger.” She teased him, pumping in and out of his anus with her middle finger. “What will you do when I’m stuffing this tight hole with my cock?”

“Probably scream,” he answered. “Will you think me too girly if I do?”

She withdrew her finger, placed the tube against his butt, and squeezed, applying more lubricant. “Not at all,” she said, her voice a husky, sexy drawl. “I plan to make you scream with pleasure.” She capped the tube of lube and tossed it on the dresser. “Okay, here’s your warning. I’m going back in with two this time. Play with your cock and balls for me,” she ordered. “I want that cock nice and hard.”

Two slick fingers worked their way past his tight back entry and Rickard hissed, feeling a pinch of pain. The slight discomfort turned into a little tickle of delight as her fingers eased out then back in, opening him gently. Wetting his lips, he took his cock in hand and worked it slow and easy. He looked back to see her working her slim digits in his rectum and flashed her a fierce grin of his own. “You do realize that some day soon, I fully intend taking your tight little ass?”

She slowed for a second, as if startled, and then picked up the momentum and continued finger-fucking him, watching over his shoulder as he masturbated. “Turnabout’s fair play, I suppose.”

She didn’t sound too sure and Rickard tilted his head back, met her gaze. “You’ve never given someone your anal cherry, have you?”

“No. I guess I was saving it for you.”

“Oh, damn!” The thought that he would be the first, the only one to take her like that hit Rickard hard, had his body clenching in unexpected orgasm. His ass closed down on her fingers, milking them as he thrashed through the short but intense culmination.

When it was over, he looked up to see Indigo staring down at him, awe and something else in her wondering gaze. “God, Rickard, that was hot! You are so beautiful when you come.”

He swallowed thickly, trying to catch his breath. Slowly, he eased up on the stranglehold he had on his dick, a hoarse laugh coming out of his dry throat. “Fuck! That was wild! I have to tell you…my balls feel like the Grinch’s heart before he heard the Whos singing: two sizes too small. They’re loaded to the gills.”

He’d meant the quip to be funny, but Indigo didn’t laugh with him. She pulled her fingers out of him, wiped them on one of the towels he’d brought from the bathroom, and extracted a condom from the box. “That orgasm loosened you up nicely. You’re ready, but before we go further, I need to tell you something.”

Icicles of fear formed around his heart, chilling his enjoyment. Had he done something to change her mind? “What’s wrong, babe?”

She wet her lips. “You were open about your need to be on the receiving end of the loving. You were open, but not honest. I’m going to give you what you need, what you really want. I’m going to give you Pavel.”

She morphed.

Rickard cursed low and vicious, rolling away from her. “Fuck you, no! I don’t want that.”

She pointed to his cock, rearing so high and full, a pin would blow it apart like an overinflated balloon. “The truth is you do want this…so badly you’ve had to convince yourself otherwise. An open wound inside you has never healed. It never will unless I give you this.”

Indigo must have touched him at some time, because she was Pavel. Rickard should know. He knew Pavel better than any other in the world did. A cheap knockoff would never fool him. If he let himself accept the lie, though, this could fool him. His hands balled into fists, Rickard fought the temptation. He glanced at Indigo and had to look away, lest he be drawn into that beloved trap. His gruff voice broke as he accused, “You studied me long to find what would destroy me.”

“I want to help you, my prince.”

“Stop it! Stop using his voice, at least.”

“I can’t. It’s a total morph. I sound like him because these are his vocal cords.” A touch of sadness crossed his face. Yes, Rickard thought. That is what Pavel’s sad expression looks like.

“Don’t do this, oh God, Indigo, don’t do this to me!”

She came up behind him, laid a hand on his shoulder, and Rickard’s body reacted to the familiar touch. With a husky cry, he curled into Pavel’s embrace, hooking an arm around his neck to bring his mouth down to his. “Drouch, älska mig, älskling…love me, my heart’s home…”

Pavel folded his arms around Rickard, pulled him close. He cupped Rickard’s face, gazing into his drowning eyes. “You know I love you, I’ll always love you, my liege.” His mouth took Rickard’s in an Alpha’s kiss, demanding he give his all, allowing nothing less than full surrender.

Rickard sighed, opening his mouth wider, twining his tongue with Pavel’s as he ground his hips against the slightly shorter male’s abdomen. Pavel’s cock was longer, wider, the head broad and blunt. A frisson of lust skittered up his spine at the thought of that monster claiming his ass, fucking him to within an inch of his life. “Please, Pavel, please fuck me.”

“Oh, I’m going to, Rickard. You’re going to take every last inch of this foot-long dick up your ass and love it. But first, you’re going to suck me and make me hard.”

Tears falling, Rickard kissed his way down Pavel’s chest, loving the furred muscled plane covered with toned skin and ropey veins. His tongue batted the flat nipples hidden beneath the dense swirls of hair, had them peeking out of their hiding place. He sucked one into his mouth, his fingers and thumb attending to the other in near mindless bliss.

Crooning, he dropped further, ran his hands down the strong, lean flanks to frame the work of nature hanging between corded thighs. “Drouch, you are beautiful, so beautiful!” Rickard’s tears fell, to be lost in the glistening bush of hair at Pavel’s groin. He sobbed, “I need you, need you to love me!”

Janecek’s hands smoothed Rickard’s hair off his brow. “It is you who are lovely, my darling prince. I need you, too. Need you and love you. Ich liebe auch dich, drouch, auch älska mig, älskling.”

Rickard took Pavel’s cock in hand. It had grown from when they were youths together. He doubted he would be able to take it all in his mouth, but he was innovative…he would find new ways to pleasure his lover.

Pavel grunted when his mouth closed over the head and first third of his cock and Rickard knew he wasn’t the only one caught up in the moment. He reached down, palmed Pavel’s balls and rolled them while he continued to suck and lick around the bulbous glans.

“Yes, drouch, use your teeth, let me feel you nibbling on me.”

Rickard followed his instructions, nipping at the vein running along the underside of Pavel’s penis, running his tongue around the ridge ringing his cockhead. His own cock burned and throbbed, his cum trapped behind the punishing ring. He pulled his mouth off Pavel’s cock, desperate for relief. “If you don’t fuck me now, I’m going to burst!”

Pavel’s rich laughter rang in the room. “Oh, we can’t have that. Up then, impatient one…I want you, too.”

Pavel rolled a condom down his cock and then poured a jet of lubrication in Rickard’s hands. “Get me slathered up good, hon. There’s a lot of me and a finite amount of space in here,” he said, slapping one of Rickard’s cheeks.

With a nervous chuckle, he managed to get lube all over Pavel’s cock and his chest, hands, and arms. But when he went to bend over the foot of the bed, Pavel stopped him with a hand on his arm. “No, I don’t want you like that. I want to make love to you face-to-face.”

Rickard started. “Are you sure you want to?”

Pavel nodded. “I want you to see my eyes, look into my face while we fuck. I want my love burned into your memory forever.” He took Rickard by the hand. “Come make love with me.”

Pavel half sat, half reclined on the bed and patted his thighs. “Squat over me and we’ll ease my cock in real slow.”

Shaking, Rickard threw his leg over Pavel’s lap while the other male held his cock steady. Holding onto the wulf’s broad shoulders, he lowered himself until he was squatting over Pavel’s cock, the position stretching his anal sphincter so it winked open over the massive head. His thighs gaped wide, leaving his cock and balls in plain sight between their bodies, the head brushing Pavel’s tight abs. When he was in position, Pavel fit his cock to Rickard’s back door with a quick warning. “Don’t forget to push out. It’ll hurt like hell getting in, but once there, I’ll take you to paradise.”

Push out as he might, Rickard thought he’d die trying to take Pavel’s cockhead. The thing was huge. “Damn, it hurts, Pavel!” He leaned his forehead on the wulf’s chest, his face damp with sweat. Body shaking from the strain of holding his position, he pleaded, “Just do it, Pavel, punch your way in.” He looked up into the other’s eyes with a weary laugh. “I want to fuck you sometime this year.”

Pavel gritted his teeth. “You sure?”

“Mother Moon, yes!”

Rickard’s hoarse scream battered the walls of the apartment. He gave thanks for soundproofing. “Oh God, Pavel, tell me you’re in!”

“Are you numb back there? That’s the only reason I can see for you not feeling me. You’re squeezing me so tightly I can’t move.”

Rickard relaxed, slumped in Pavel’s loose embrace. “Fuck me…love me…I’ve waited years for you to hold me like this.”

“Give me your mouth. Slide your tongue inside me and let’s fuck there, too.”

Their kiss was torrid and hot, hard and bruising. Rickard couldn’t get enough of Pavel’s taste. All the while their lips touched, tongues tangled and breaths meshed, Pavel was flexing his hips, using his hold at Rickard’s waist to move him up and down the thick bar of his cock, fucking him slow and easy. As their lip play escalated, so did their lower bodies’ movements.

Rickard moaned, licked Pavel’s chest. Pavel supported Rickard’s weight on one hand while the other reached down and circled his cock, hand-fucking him in cadence with the activity going on at their groins.

Pavel groaned. “So tight…so hot, your ass grips my cock better than custom-made gloves.”

Rickard sighed. “You feel so good inside me. You fill my empty spaces, Pavel. You fill me up.”

“With love, my prince,” Pavel murmured, hip motion beginning to speed up. “You ready to fly with me now?”

Rickard laughed. “I’m ready to scream!”

With a lusty cry, Pavel flipped them until Rickard lay on his back, freeing him to hold Pavel close as that strong, muscled body flexed his cock in and out of Rickard’s ass. “Yes! Yes, this is what I want, what I need! Fuck me hard, Pavel!”

The cock burning up his rectum, stretching him agonizingly wide, drove through his clinging membrane, bumping and scouring his prostate, sending lava up his spine and down to his balls. Sperm churned and sizzled in his sac, blocked from finding escape along normal channels. The pressure built, soared, rose on heat waves up his spinal cord to ignite all along his body.

“Oh Mother Moon, I’m coming!” Rickard screamed as the conflagration consumed him. Laughing and crying, he fell insensate into the novalike heat of an orgasmic sun.

April and December

 

Rosemary. Rosemary. Rosemary.

Brandon was a bundle of trembling excitement paired with a buildup of seething lust just waiting for an outlet, a way to escape in a massive carnal explosion.

My Rosemary.

He couldn’t wait to get to his Rosemary, knowing she would gladly help him dissipate the nervous energy flashing along his nerve endings. He could hear her beyond the door and the thought of what he’d soon be doing with her made his cock stand up hard. He smelled her sweet essence through the sturdy panel and his anticipation spiked.

Gonna fuck her!

Thanks to Aricles’s infectious touch, he was having a hard time holding on to his skin form. Since he hadn’t yet explained his triple nature to Rosemary -- though she’d certainly seen a great deal when he’d almost lost it the day before -- he had to remember not to frighten her to death by shifting until he brought her up to breed speed.

Breed speed! Heh! He would share that phrase with the other trainers. They were sure to like it.

Teetering on the brink of losing control, he paused to take in several deep breaths, trying to calm himself, and choked on an extra dose of spine tingling lust. He cursed like a horny sailor.

Damn it, he was gonna fuck her bowlegged!

Rosemary’s breed DNA must had completely activated, thanks to yesterday morning’s session of marathon sex -- not to mention the one they’d engaged in after leaving the cafeteria. She was radiating the sex pheromone that drove unmated wulves wild. He was obviously no exception to that rule.

Brandon tried the door, found it locked, and fumbled in his pockets for the key. Unlocking the door, he hollered, “Hey, love, you’ll never believe what I’ve been through to --!”

Chaos greeted him. He came to a startled halt in the doorway, taking in the wild disarray of Rosemary’s room, heartbeat accelerating in alarm. The change rolled in an incipient rush across his shoulders, fur flowing and fangs sprouting, body readying to go into battle mode. “Rosemary, what’s happened here? Are you all right?”

Frantic, Brandon rushed into the room and put his arm around Rosemary’s waist, needing to touch her, needing the assurance that she was all right, and requiring more than a visual sign of her wellbeing.

“I’m fine.” Rosemary adroitly slipped out from under his arm and returned to her packing, an expression of what looked like guilt flashing in her hazel eyes. Sighing loudly, she went back to folding a blouse, muttering under her breath, “Oh Lord, why couldn’t you let me avoid this confrontation?”

Brandon frowned, noting her hands were shaking. Confused, unwilling to believe what his eyes were reporting, he glanced about the room, seeing the empty closet and the dresser cleared of all her personal belongings. “Why are all your clothes out of the closet? What are you doing?”

“I’m packing, Brandon. Why are you back so early? They told me you were out on special assignment and would be awhile. I was hoping to be finished before you returned.”

He couldn’t breathe for the pain ripping through his heart. “Why?”

“I’ve made arrangements to leave. There’ll be a seat for me on the helicopter when it returns in the morning.”

“No,” he said impatiently. “Not why are you packing, but why are you leaving? What have I done to make you do this, Rosemary? How could you plot to leave me like this, sneaking away behind my back?”

She didn’t look up, just kept picking up items and tidying them away into the gaping suitcases. “It’s not like that at all. I just felt it was time this fairy tale came to an end, is all. I’m too old for all this constant folderol and high drama. I’m…” Her voice faltered, and then firmed. “I’m tired of it. I’m tired of you. You’re a handsome young man and I enjoyed you for a while, but we are worlds apart. Frankly, Brandon, you’ve begun to bore me.”

He couldn’t stop a pained gasp, her words destroying his self-confidence.

Rosemary raised her eyebrows, an expression of chilly hauteur on her heart-shaped face. “Honestly, you didn’t really think you could hold my attention for long, did you? Why, you’ve barely lived a quarter century while I have seen twice that and more. We’re April and December, Brandon. What could I possibly find to do with a baby like you, long term?”

Brandon burned inside as she castigated him, her words napalm to his soul. From his hurt he attacked. “You didn’t have any trouble finding something to do with me last night, or the night before, and certainly not the morning and afternoon before that.”

Rosemary tittered, the sound shrill and brittle. “Oh, there’s no denying the sex was good, but my boy, it was just sex. It’s fine for a snack now and then, but you must always try to make a meal of it.”

Brandon flinched. He had no defense against that barb because it was true. He had thought she reveled in his high sex drive, enjoyed their frequent lovemaking as much as he did. To hear her saying she had only tolerated, but was no longer willing to tolerate him, cut him into pieces. He stuttered an apology. “I’m sorry, Rosemary. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world. I didn’t realize I was asking too much of you. I guess it won’t kill me to cut back.” He attempted a laugh that came off badly. “You should have told me I was being too greedy.”

She gave a long suffering sigh. “A real man wouldn’t need telling, but I suppose there are always a few negatives one must put up with when engaging a gigolo.”

“Gigolo?” Brandon was young but he wasn’t ignorant. He knew an insult when he heard one. “I’m no gigolo. You insult yourself when you imply that I only made love to you for payment.”

“But that’s exactly what you did, Brandon,” Rosemary pointed out quietly. She dropped the pair of pants she was holding to fold her hands over her stomach. “Did you really believe the clients here shelled out half a million dollars to lose weight?” She snorted inelegantly. “My dear, we could do that on Jenny Craig. No, we paid that much money for the promise of clean sex in unlimited quantity and the anonymity to indulge unconditionally. This isn’t a fat farm. It’s a sex farm and you are just the prime bull that caught my eye. Well worth the price, if it’s any consolation. I hope they’re paying you a handsome salary for services rendered. If not, I’ll make sure and leave a tip.”

“Why are you talking like this Rosemary? I love you. You told me you loved me, also. You said being with me had renewed your interest in life and love.”

“There, you see? Your naiveté is showing. A man of the world, a mature man would understand that I was flirting with him. He’d know those words didn’t mean a thing.”

That last hurt more than all her other words combined. His eyes stinging, Brandon blinked rapidly, desperate to stop the tears filling his eyes. He would shrivel with shame if he cried in front of her, gave her one more example of his immaturity. Voice croaking, he whispered, “This morning you said --”

“This morning was me saying, farewell.” Her laugh this time was an ugly caricature of her usual twinkling tones. “If it helps, don’t think of it as good-bye. Think of it as me putting you back out to pasture.”

Please God, make him go away angry now. The look on his face is so sad, and I can’t bear to see him hurting.

Her true feelings flooded the link as Rosemary’s thoughts seared his mind. The scent of bitter hyssop -- sadness -- permeated the small room, irritating his ultrasensitive nostrils. Thank the goddess Moon, what he sniffed wasn’t fear or anger, but an entirely different emotion. Besides the strong lust-inspiring olfactory mix of breed hormones, sweet talcum, and fresh linen aroma that made up Rosemary’s signature scent, deep despair…black and encompassing, hung in an almost visible cloud about her.

She didn’t mean it!

Brandon’s heart leapt in his chest. Glad tears flowed, and he felt no shame, allowing them to fall openly down his face. His poor battered heart revived, pounded in his chest like a demented metronome. His cock rose with his spirits.

Silent in the face of her continuing tirade, Brandon walked to the door, shut it gently, turned the lock with a deliberateness that caught her attention and had her words stumbling into silence. Stretching, he placed the key on the lintel above the door, out of Rosemary’s reach.

She watched him, a wary expression growing on her face. “What are you doing?”

He moved to stand by the dresser and, still without a word, began emptying his pockets, strewing the contents on the walnut surface. He toed off his shoes and set them, socks tucked inside, over by the door.

“Brandon?”

He plucked up his walkie-talkie, thumbed the receiver and spoke into the mike. “Cub to Alpha One, do you copy?”

The screech of the radio sounded and then, “Alpha One, Cub…go.”

“Alpha, I have a priority level situation pending in client Rosemary’s quarters. Over.”

The tension in the voice on the other end of the communication device elevated. “What’s your situation? Go!”

“I have a level Red Henhouse in progress, sir. Over and out!”

Brandon clicked the power button on the unit and then strolled to the window and tossed it out, shutting and locking the window when he’d done so. From the corner of his eye, he caught Rosemary’s startled reaction.

She backed up, scuttling out of his path as he returned from the window, hurrying into speech. “I don’t know what all that was about, but you can’t stop me from leaving!”

Ignoring her, he began taking off his clothes, his motions calm and controlled. Inside, he was anything but. She should have stopped before that last devastating volley that hurt her as much as it hurt him. If she had, he would have done just what she wanted -- stormed out, never realizing until too late, what she had done. She’d have been gone, out of his reach, but never out of his heart.

She had no idea what impact her leaving would have on not only her, but on him, since he had been the one to activate her breed DNA. His poor baby would have pined for him, hurting and starving more every day until she crossed the path of another wulf who wouldn’t recognize her for the prize she was, only see her as a tool for sexual relief and snatched her forcibly.

The thought of what she could have been forced to endure as an activated breed without a bonded mate -- being kidnapped, taken to a pack enclave and kept in virtual sexual slavery -- terrified Brandon. His anger kindled a conflagration as intense as his relief and terror had been.

His hands trembled as he drew his belt through the loops and laid it across the bed. He had a hard time unfastening his pants, but finally the button and zipper gave way and he shucked them off, not bothering to fold them.

Once he was completely naked, Brandon picked up the belt, doubled it in half, slapping the heavy leather across the palm of his hand. Mouth tight, he glanced over at Rosemary, his eyes no longer stinging with tears, but with the heated promise of retribution.

911

 

“Damn it to hell, Brandon, what the fuck are you doing?” Pavel cursed, shaking the unresponsive walkie-talkie. He couldn’t believe the cub had actually reported he was in the process of committing a Red Henhouse -- their code for a forced bonding on an unwilling breed.

What the hell could have happened? Only this morning the cub had been talking about getting permission to bind Rosemary in an official pack ceremony.

Oh shit, could this behavior be the result of Brandon’s interaction with Aricles? Pavel hoped not. That’s all he needed, another fuckup on his plate. He was still trying to come to grips with his guilt over the murdered woman.

Kaila came out of the bedroom, clad in happy smiles and…and happy smiles. Her nipples looked really happy. “Hey, I didn’t spend all this time getting you to mellow out and accept your inner beast to have you agitated and upset. What’s got you all snarly?”


Despite his cock instantly heading north, Pavel knew he couldn’t ignore this situation. It could have serious consequences. “The thought of you under me is never a mellowing thought. More like a raging hormone gone wild sort of mentality. Much as I hate passing up the opportunity to explore that with you” -- he eyed her plush body with loving lust -- “especially as you’re dressed so appropriately, I have a crisis developing.”

He appreciated how she instantly became serious. “How can I help?”

“Well, first, hurry up and throw some clothes on. I need you to come with me. I’ll explain on the way, but I think we might have your first client advocate intervention job for you.”

She was already moving. “Is it inappropriate to be excited?”

“Yes.”

Interruptions

 

Rickard lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling, chest heaving from his second dry orgasm. He decided the only thing more glorious than being fucked by a lover armed with a big cock and the knowledge of how to use it was fucking the lady he was falling in love with -- in any guise she chose.

“Welcome back, sleeping beauty.” Indigo leaned up over him, her small hand lazily pumping his still rigid cock. Her eyes sparkled, and her full mouth sported a sated grin that was sexy as hell. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel like a free man. I know I was angry at first for what you did, but you were right. I needed that with Pavel. It was a fitting farewell.” His eyes stung and he reached for her unoccupied hand, squeezed it. “I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you.”

“You used it to heal your hurt and you enjoyed it. That’s thanks enough. Besides, I loved every minute of it. However, my question was about your physical body, not your spiritual and mental wellbeing. I was worried when you passed out after that second orgasm.”

“God, Indigo, I’ve never been fucked like that, didn’t know a person could survive that much pleasure…” Rickard sighed, his body coming alive under her hand.

He’d thought he was done, but just the sight of her had him laboring to catch his breath. Her soft touch sent renewed spikes of ecstasy zinging through his body. His skin tingled, cock threatened to explode as she brought him back to readiness.

He groaned. “I need to come.”

She clicked her teeth. “You’ve come twice already, greedy one.”

He’d come but he hadn’t ejaculated, thanks to the cock ring she’d fitted on him. Though he’d worn one before, this was the first time he’d experienced multiple orgasms while still confined. Each consecutive dry climax had grown in strength, building exponentially until the pleasure tipped over into a pain so sublime, intense didn’t begin to describe the sensations.

“My sperm is backed up so high my teeth are floating. When you take the ring off, I’ll probably spew like a geyser.”

“Okaaay.” She chuckled. “That was a different visual.” He felt the wind of her soft laughter bathing his ears as she leaned down and kissed his lips, her tongue darting between to flick his teeth. “We’ll have to check that out. Next time I come in your mouth, remind me to see if these pearly whites can swim.”

His cock twitched in helpless response to his lover’s promise of a next time. “Please, Indigo, take it off and let me come.”

She hadn’t tied his hands. They both knew he could release himself. They both knew he wouldn’t. She was in charge for now. Her fingers tested his balls, gingerly rolling them, weighing them in the palm of her hand. Her touch, though gentle, sent agony lancing through his balls, which were swollen to almost twice their normal size, the skin hot and tender, so full of seed he feared they’d burst.

“These poor babies do seem pretty full, and you have been a very good boy.” Indigo rolled up and straddled him, bracing on her hands and knees so no part of her body touched his. She slanted her head, leaning in to share a sweet, slow merging of lips, making sure only their mouths brushed. Her tongue slipped in to tease and tangle with his, the kiss so tender and brimming with emotion, Rickard shuddered beneath her.

She pulled away, sitting up. He lifted his knees to make a backrest for her and she settled her bottom lightly on his groin, being careful not to sit back and press against his balls.

“Watch me morph,” she ordered.

He did, and saw her cock diminishing, dissolving back into her body. Her balls retracted, making way for a pair of dainty pink labia rivaling the beauty of a Georgia O’Keefe. Her vaginal lips filled in, grew pouty and plump, the bit of flesh that had been her cock dwindling to a slightly oversized clit protruding from its nest.

With difficulty, Rickard tore his gaze away from her lovely vagina and looked up into her face. “You’re so damned beautiful.”

Her smile was pensive. “You only say that because of the faces I can wear.”

He shook his head. “I say it because no matter what face you wear, it will always be beautiful to me as long as your essence is animating it.”

“You use romantic words like someone else would use a gun. Prose is a weapon in your mouth. You really sound like you mean what you say.”

“I can’t deny romantic entanglements were a large part of my past. I’m rich and a bachelor. I don’t have to go looking for women, they flock to me. I usually tell them what I think they want to hear. In your case, I mean every word I say.”

“You know, earlier when you admitted wanting to be the one receiving the loving, I really didn’t understand. I think maybe now I might.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m wearing a pussy for you now.”

He chuckled, stretched out a hand and stroked her damp labia, slipping a finger inside to tickle her clit. “So I see. She’s quite pretty. Responsive, too,” he added, bringing his wet finger to his mouth and licking her dew off. “Yum.”

“While you were such a responsive, giving partner and I enjoyed topping and fucking you, I’d like my turn. I want you on top of me, now.”

Rickard sat up, wrapping his arms around Indigo and pulling her in close to his chest. “I would love to fuck you, dear woman of many faces; however, you’ll have to remove this miniature torture chamber so my cock and balls can breathe.”

She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry! I’ll take care of that right now.” She twisted around, bent in a supple curve, and released the pressure on the cock ring’s closure. “There, you should ease up in a minute or two.”

Rickard hissed in relief. His cock expanded to its full, unrestricted width and length. The ache in his balls lessened almost instantly, though they remained tight and full. “Give me a second to recover and we’ll burn up the sheets,” he promised, tipping her over so he rode in the saddle of her thighs. “Until then, I’d like another lick of that tasty pussy you’ve formed for me.”

She was delicious, an exotic blend of jungle wildflower and musky feline. And her oversized clit was just right in his book, giving his teeth something to latch on to while she writhed against his mouth. Rickard feasted on her, heart and mind as one, intent on giving her all the pleasure she could withstand.

Everything about Indigo fascinated him, her textures, her flavors…the intriguing little sounds she made as she came for him. He settled in for a long bout of loving, determined to make her come at least three more times before he fucked her.

“Please, Wagner,” she cried in a voice hoarse from all her shouted climaxes, “please take me now. I want you so badly.”

Rickard gave her erect little clit a farewell swipe before lifting his head from between her legs. He crawled up her body, rubbing his nose in the shallow recess of her belly button, paying homage to both perky nipples on his way to her lush, ripe mouth. “Your cunt tastes divine, sweetheart,” he praised. “Here, share a taste.” He kissed her.

She broke away, gasping. “God, I could drown in you, sexy man.”

Rickard was appreciative of the sentiment but was more interested in getting his cock inside her. “I hope you’re not thinking about dying anytime soon. I have long-range plans for this delectable body.”

“Oh yeah, such as…?”

Her arch look goaded him on. Rickard hooked a long finger in her pussy, unerringly located her G-spot, and sent her spinning into a shuddering orgasm. “Such as you helping me put on a condom so you can stop solo flying.”

When the sensuous wave crested, Indigo sat up, took the small foil package from his hand and opened it. Slinging a leg over his hips, she mantled his lap with her back facing his chest.

He watched her roll the thin latex onto his cock, leaving the usual pocket to allow for ejaculation. “You know, with what I have stored, I don’t think that’s going to do the trick.”

“Humph! It just looks like a lot because it comes out in narrow streams.” She finished her task, waggling her bottom in his face for good measure. He swatted it, laughing.

“I ought to pull out and make you swallow it. We’ll see how little the amount is when it’s overflowing your mouth.”

She turned around and smiled into his eyes, licking her lips. “You want me to do that?”

Her enthusiastic question had his dick pulsing. Rickard had to pinch the tip of his dick to stave off prematurely letting loose. “Damn, woman, you’ll have me spending before I ever get inside you.”

“Let me ride you then. It’ll be easier on your poor balls.” She shifted, got into position, and waited while he fisted his cock for her to sit on. He gestured for her to mount him and she sank down slowly, engulfing him in her pussy easily, so wet, tight, and hot around him he knew he wouldn’t last long.

“Show me your true form,” he asked, rocking her gently on his cock. She stiffened on him. Even in the room’s dim light, he caught the flash of fear in her eyes and quickly backed down. He didn’t want to frighten her off. “Never mind,” he murmured, adroitly flipping them over without losing his place in her. “Keep your masks if you must. You can’t hide your inner beauty from me.”

He loved her then, wooing her with languid kisses and soft touches, moving against her slowly, sinking in deep until passion overtook them and their bodies caught fire. He put his hands under her knees and lifted her legs, opening her, shifting her to make the angle just right, just what he needed to thrust deep and hard, to pound into the perfect pussy surrounding him in heat, supplying the wet friction he needed.

Her pussy was perfect, made for him, just tight enough to make him push his way in and tug out again. She made him work for the pleasure, made his body glow with sweat as he labored to bring them both a culmination that would light up the skies.

Rickard never wanted to quit fucking her, but he’d reached the limit of his stamina. Every one of his earlier orgasms, though dry, had wrung him, stripped him down to exposed nerves and quivering need.

His body was ultra sensitive, he wanted to scream each time he sank into her, the fire in his overfull balls almost unendurable as they swung, smacking the crease of her ass on each down stroke. When he came, the release was so good, so damn much stronger and longer and harder and better and -- because of Indigo -- sweeter than anything he’d ever experienced. He flew apart, screaming, never wanting it to end, and needing it to end just so he could do it again. Fly into the sun and be reborn…with Indigo.

Spent, wrung out, and floating in a state approaching nirvana, Rickard dropped a kiss on his lover’s forehead, pulled out of her, and rolled to his side, tucking her under his shoulder.

Delin came at them in a blur of movement, almost too fast for the eye to see, weapon upraised over Indigo’s unprotected head.

Shouting a warning mentally and out loud, Rickard moved toward -- instead of away from -- the attack, desperate to get Indigo out of the way. The power of his shove toppled her all the way over the far side of the bed. He gladly took her place, took the killing strike meant for her.

Pain exploded at the back and side of his head, the force of the blow driving Rickard’s face into the pillow, cutting short his scream down the link to Pavel.

The edges of his vision slurred blood red. Through waves of spiking pain, he made out harsh screaming, that high-pitched agonized wail a woman keens when her world is falling apart.

Why didn’t she say her safe word?

He should say his.

He couldn’t remember!

Blue!

Rickard croaked the word in a grating whisper, “Blue…”

And then everything went black.

Coming and Age

 

Nothing was going according to plan.

For one thing, Rosemary didn’t know this edgy, angry man standing in front of her without a stitch of clothing. The brooding, dangerous wulf was nothing like her gentle, fun-loving Brandon. The expression on his face chilled her, the look in his eyes was feral, angry, heated with the passions of the animal she now knew him to be, yet cold as the ring of ice around her heart, formed in the moment she realized she had to leave him. She’d pushed him too far.

Eyes wide, trying not to show her fear, Rosemary stared at the belt in Brandon’s hands. “Brandon, please put your clothes back on.”

The belt slapped against his palm, making a sharp sound in the quiet room. “We wulves don’t particularly care for them, either. So get used to me. The days of making allowances for your old-fashioned ways are over. Besides, bulls don’t wear clothes.”

She flinched away from the fury in his voice. “You took that the wrong way.”

Brandon’s eyes narrowed to hot blue slits. He slapped the belt against his leg, raising an angry red welt. Rosemary didn’t think he even felt it.

“I took it the way you said it. You thought you could get away with talking to me any way you pleased,” Brandon said in a snide voice. “After all, you paid for my body, not my emotions, so why concern yourself with hurting my feelings.”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Rosemary whispered.

“You recently went to great lengths to inform me just how ignorant, young, and naive you thought me. If I believed that, you could add stupid, as well.”

“There’s no talking to you. Please step aside so I can finish packing.”

“You’re not going anywhere but across my lap.”

“Don’t be silly, Brandon. You know you can’t keep me here against my will. Be reasonable and just let me go. You’ll find a young woman who can give you everything you deserve.” She held a hand out in entreaty, but the look he gave her had her snatching it back.

“I don’t need another woman, Rosemary. And as for getting what you deserve, I fully intend to see to that right now.” Brandon stepped toward her, flexing his belt, and Rosemary retreated, not believing he was really going to spank her.

Voice quivering, she demanded, “You stop right there! Don’t you dare come any closer.”

His laughter was raucous and harsh. “Your naiveté is showing, Rosemary. I can’t very well administer a spanking from the other side of the room.”

Rosemary blanched. Fear hollowed out her belly. “I’ll report you. I haven’t broken any rules and you don’t have the right to do this.”

Brandon’s eyes blazed with gold fire. “You’ve broken my rules, Rosemary. As for reporting me, I’ve already done that. You’ll find no one, and I mean no one, has the right to interfere between a mated pair.”

His gaze seemed to soften as he took her hand and walked her -- protesting and holding back -- over to the bed. He sat down on the side of the mattress, and ordered her to strip.

“Are you insane? I’m not taking my clothes off for you!”

Brandon whacked the mattress with the belt, the dull thud sounding ominous. “Reminds you of old times, huh? If you don’t strip, I’ll whip the clothes off you.”

He’d locked the door and the window. There was no way to escape. Rosemary bit her lip. She searched his face in vain, for a touch of mercy. “You’re frightening me.”

“Good. Because I want you frightened enough to never pull a fucking stunt like this again. Now get those clothes dropped before I beat your butt for breaking another rule,” he snapped.

Stomach roiling, she practically ripped off the clothes, throwing each piece in Brandon’s face as she took it off. She shocked her own self by growling, growling at him when he snagged her panties out of the air and brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply. She put her nose up in the air and looked down on him. She sniffed. “Filthy animal!”

Brandon jumped up from the bed, mouth tight, and started toward her. “You just broke the rule about not calling your mate names.”

Rosemary ran, not caring at all about her old woman jiggling haunches, only wanting the safety of a locked bathroom door between her and her angry young man. He caught her before she took three steps, lifted her under his arms, and toted her like a sack of potatoes back to the bed and punishment.

Brandon sat, yanked Rosemary over his thighs and held her there while he laid down the rules. “You know the drill, Rosemary. Repeat everything I say. If you don’t comply, I’ll keep giving you the same swats until we can move on.” He finished by saying, “Let’s hear you sing out, or this is going to be a long session.”

Abiding by his promise to always show her affection before administering punishment, Brandon smoothed a hand down her flanks, leaned over, and dropped a kiss in the cleft of her behind. She squirmed in protest, angry enough to resent the caress.

Brandon’s offended huff at her show of defiance was all the warning she received. He brought the belt down on her naked butt, and the sting of the broad leather was fierce, burning in a flaming stripe across her cheek.

She screamed, kicking, and his arm came across her waist, effortlessly holding her in place. He continued spanking her, ignoring her cries of anger and tears of pain, accompanying each wallop with a tight-lipped stricture.

Whack!

“Don’t you ever look down that high society nose of yours at me again!”

Whack! Whack!

“I didn’t hear you, Rosemary.”

Whack!

Sobbing, she chimed in, “I won’t ever l-look down my high so-society nose at you ever again!”

Whack!

“I will be the Alpha of our den.”

“You will be the Alpha of our den!”

Whack! Whack! Whack!

When I say you are beautiful and not too old for me…”

“When you,” she sobbed, “say I am b-b-beautiful and not too o-o-old for you…”

Whack! Whack! Whack!

“You will fucking believe you are beautiful and not too old for me!”

She wailed. “You can spank me forever. I can’t say that! It’s not true!”

Whack!

Whack!

Whack!

Cursing vilely, Brandon threw the belt across the room and palmed Rosemary’s hot ass, rubbing and smoothing the welts as he always did after he spanked her. Her bottom throbbed and stung. Rosemary knew it had to be a bright shade of red. Beneath her, his cock was a hard lump poking her belly. Determined he wouldn’t have everything his way, she rolled off his lap, landing in an ungainly sprawl at his feet.

“This didn’t change anything. I’m still leaving.”

He sighed, leaned back on his arms, and tilted his head to the side, eyeing her as he would a scientific specimen.

“Rosie, you have a lot to learn. That you don’t know everything you should is my fault since, as your future mate, it’s my duty to teach you.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What are you talking about, future mate? I’m certainly not marrying you!”

“That’s what I mean about what you need to learn. We’re already bonded. I did that when I bit you the other day. We’ll be mated as soon as I fuck you in fur form. That will be in about five minutes.”

Brandon shifted on the bed and she saw his cock was semihard and rising. “This is rape.”

Brandon roared to his feet. “I’ll overlook a lot from you, but there’s one thing I won’t tolerate. Your first lesson is simple: never lie to me. I don’t care if you think it’s for my own good, or if you do it with the best of intentions. I won’t have dishonesty in my bitch.”

“How dare you use that guttersnipe gang language in my presence? The B word is not used in correct circles.” Rosemary was shocked that Brandon would curse at her when he never had before. Then again, he’d never before looked at her with disgust, or with that hard, brittle light in his eyes.

Even when he’d spanked her that first time, he’d been as gentle as possible, almost crying himself that he’d caused her pain. There was nothing gentle within the young man standing in front of her now. Tears flooded her eyes. She’d killed Brandon as surely as if she’d taken a gun to his head. What remained might bear the same name, but it wasn’t her sweet-natured lover.

“Lesson number two: Among my people, the term bitch is one of honor. You are a breed bitch, a female capable of bearing wulf cubs, designed to withstand the trauma of having sex with a wulf in battle form.”

“Stop it, Brandon!” Rosemary couldn’t remain silent while Brandon spun fairytales, trying to build a future for them made of gossamer wings and fragile hope. She’d done too much of that already. His mention of cubs -- babies -- was what crucified her hopes. “Stop living in a dream world. I’m not that woman. Look at me! I’m an old woman, Brandon, too old to have cubs or cats or whatever they’re calling babies these days.”

Saying it, accepting the truth of her barren future hurt so much, Rosemary sank sobbing to the floor. “Oh God, Brandon, you have to see I’m not all those wonderful things you’re imagining. I wish I were. I’m just an old fool who fell in love with a man young enough to be her great-grandson. And that’s so unfair to you. Do you know what people will say when they see you with me? They’ll say, ‘She must be paying a pretty penny to have that young stud servicing her.’” She sniffed, wiping at her tears. “Lucinda said you needed to smear the strawberry tart in my pussy to make it wet enough for you to f-fuck it!”

Brandon slid down beside Rosemary and gathered her in his arms. “That’s not what I hear people saying. I hear people saying, ‘That Rosemary must have it going on, to keep that stud salivating after her like he does’…and Lucinda is a doesn’t-deserve-the-title bitch.”

He kissed her, and Rosemary’s heart clenched at the sweetness of it. She wanted to grab on and never let go, snatch what he offered and hoard it selfishly to her breast. Burying her head in his chest, she gave way to defeated tears. “You should have let me go. It killed me to say those things to you, to work up the courage and backbone to do the right thing and cut you out of my heart. I’m bleeding inside, Brandon,” she sobbed, body shaking with the force of her weeping. “Bleeding to death and I haven’t even left yet. I’m already dying of loneliness. Don’t make me have to go through this again.”

You are the love of my life. You are the mate the Goddess designed for me alone.

“She didn’t do a very good job, then. Look at you and then look at me. You’re beautiful. while I’m --”

He placed a hand over her mouth. Beautiful in my sight, and always will be. You are so much more than you allow yourself to be, more than you deem possible. Embrace our possibility. I have. Trust me, Rosemary. Together, we can be more than you dream.

“I want to dream with you, Brandon, I do!” She wrapped her arms around his waist, looked up into his beloved face. Wonder consumed her as she saw the tears falling from his precious eyes. “But I’m so afraid.” She shook as she held him, body trembling with that fear. “I’m terrified of the day the dream becomes your nightmare. I don’t know what I’ll do, how I’ll survive the day you look at me and find you’ve shackled yourself to an old, wrinkled, dried-up prune of a woman, stiff with arthritis and rickety with age.”

Brandon groaned, laughing softly. His arms cradled her as he rocked her gently. “I wasn’t lying about the combined DNA and all that stuff. You are a breed and now that I’ve activated you, your wulf DNA has begun reversing the human aging process. Your body is healing itself, though you probably won’t turn into a twenty year-old woman, which is a good thing, ’cause I happen to love older women. More than likely, we’ll end up looking like June and September, instead of April and December. How old do you think Orloffberg is?”

The odd question threw her off. What did the prince’s age have to do with anything? “He looks to be in his mid to late twenties.”

“He’s knocking on fifty’s door. Fifty is answering, too. Babe, you have more wulf DNA on board than he does.”

The disbelieving look she was giving him must have registered because he asked, voice edged with exasperation, “When’s the last time you took a really good look at yourself? It’s only been two weeks, but I can see the changes beginning.” At her steady regard, Brandon gave another groaning laugh, took one of her arms, and held it up. “Does this skin look dried out and wrinkled?”

Actually, it didn’t. Rosemary stared at her arm, shocked at the supple, healthy look of it. Her pulse sped up; her heart pounded in her chest so hard she pressed her other hand to her breast to ease the ache. Fascinated, she studied the evidence of her own body. Raising her arm high, she blinked, almost frightened -- because if what she saw was real, Brandon’s outlandish comments had to be true -- to see the “old woman bags” gone from under her armpits.

Not content with that one sample, she lifted her blouse, ran her hand over smooth, unblemished skin unmarked by the age spots she’d developed over twenty years ago.

“Dear God in heaven!” Dropping her blouse, she gazed up at Brandon, dawning hope and the last vestiges of despair battling for supremacy.

He swept her back into his arms, crushing her to him in exuberant passion. “Rosie, my Rosie, I wasn’t just spinning fairy tales, and our future will be constructed of things far more concrete than gossamer wings and fragile hope.”

Startled at his choice of words, Rosemary pulled back, mouth agape.

He dropped a kiss on each eye, both cheeks, and on the tip of her nose before covering her parted lips with his. Together, we are more than you deem possible.

His mouth was moving on hers, their tongues entwined, yet she heard him clearly. The realization shocked Rosemary out of the kiss. Gasping, she drew back, falling off his lap onto the floor.

“Brandon?”

You can talk to me without moving your lips. Try it.

“Why didn’t you say something about this before?”

We’ve never found an inactivated breed your age. It took longer for you to start emitting the mating pheromone -- which, by the way, is operating quite nicely -- so when you couldn’t hear my mental voice, I hoped it was only a matter of time.

“I want to believe you, Brandon,” with all my heart. Oh, I think I’m doing it!

Yes, you are. Now, watch and believe this…

At first, she didn’t see anything happening, and then the changes came so fast she almost missed them. Thick fur sprouted along his shoulders, spreading down his back, where a bushy tail was emerging just above the crease of his buttocks. His legs and arms elongated, swelled, grew dense with muscle, his joints inverted.

Rosemary watched in disbelief that soon turned to awe, as the man she loved became a thing beyond the world of men. Majestic and fierce, the creature stood before her, blue eyes --incongruous in that wild wulf visage -- stared at her, unblinking.

Sudden fear, born of the primordial days when man and wolf fought for supremacy of the food chain, set off her fight or flight instinct and Rosemary half rose up on her knees to flee.

Of a height with her, his head a bit higher than hers, the wolf gave a soft whimper and licked her face. Drouch!

She didn’t know what that word meant, but the steadfast love -- woven through every letter, and the mind projecting the emotion -- was infinitely familiar, and greatly loved.

“Brandon!” Rosemary threw her arms around the huge wulf, laughing and crying, running her hands over his strong body, sinking her fingers in the dense rough fur sprouted across the broad shoulders.

I might as well show you the other form while I’m at it.

She sent a tentative thought his way. Afterward, are you going to spank me again?

The wulf’s tongue lolled from its grinning mouth. No. I’m gonna fuck you bowlegged!

Rosemary’s joy bubbled up and out as laughter. Well, at least you won’t need to smear any strawberry tarts today. I’m plenty wet for you.

Needful Things

 

“Take me to him right now, Aricles. As your superior, I order it.”

Aricles hated to deny her, but acceding to her request would endanger their larger assignment, put hundreds more people at risk. Delin was small fry. They needed to catch the bigger players. “Remember what I told you on the plane. I will get you there when you need to be, I promise.”

Indigo glared at him, frantic to get to Rickard. “You told me to keep Rickard in the room tonight, not to let him take me out to dinner. You didn’t say anything about that bastard Delin trying to kill me. Or about Rickard taking the blow meant for me.”

Aricles sighed. “I know it’s hard. This was the only way I could see Rickard surviving. All the other eventualities dead-ended.”

“This one might, too. You didn’t see the wound. It was bad, Ari. He practically caved Rickard’s skull in! There was blood all over.” She whimpered, curling her hands over her belly as if cramping. “I need to get to him. Why are we just STANDING here?”

“Indigo, Delin needs Rickard alive long enough to bargain his way off this island. We need Delin back in circulation so we can track his contacts. I need you calm and thinking. We have one chance to save Rickard’s life. Your hysterical rushing could lower that slim possibility to zero. I won’t waste my time telling you to relax. I know you can’t. What I can tell you to do is focus. Can you do that?”

She nodded, mouth pressed tight together as if she caged a scream behind her lips.

“Good. Now, were you able to touch Janecek?” At her nod, he said, “Show me.”

Seconds later, Pavel stood in Indigo’s place. “Why do you need Pavel? We can rescue Rickard without him.”

“No, we can’t. While Pavel bargains with Delin and buys us time, I will retrieve Rickard and get him evac’d to an emergency center.”

“Good thing your day job is instantaneous teleportation. It sounds like we’re really going to need you to be in many places at once.”

Aricles smiled. “Delin actually made part of this very easy for us by writing a ransom note. After he wrote it, he left it lying in the cave while he went to hunt. He’s demanding a way off the island, his personnel file, and a million dollars. I need you to access the safe in Pavel’s office. It’s using the latest in fingerprint security technology.”

“That junkyard dog, Hunter, is always right. He said you had to be the operative in charge on this assignment.” Indigo took a deep breath. “We’ll play it your way, Aricles, only…please don’t let Rickard die. I need you to watch over him since I’ll be gone.”

Aricles smiled down at the woman he loved, but could have been in love with -- if things had been different. “I’ll save your man for you, little sister, if I have to pluck him out of the river Styx.”

* * * * *

Halfway down the corridor leading to the clients’ living quarters, Kaila thought of something. “You know, we ought to get rid of Lucinda. Refund her money and kick her nasty butt to the curb.”

Pavel grinned. “We don’t do refunds, but what has she done, now?”

“Maybe I’m making too much of it, but she was so horrible to Rosemary yesterday it was all I could do not to haul off and bust her one in the mouth. Poor Rosie is already going through a lot, what with coming to terms with being part alien and all.”

Pavel squeezed her hand. “I’m glad to see you two becoming friends. You can help each other. I know it’s not easy for you, either, being breed.”

“To tell you the truth, I kinda like it. I’m never sick, I’ll live for a hella long time barring murder and planetwide disaster, and…” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I get to have unlimited freaky animal sex with my personal yeti! ’Course, I’m not as old as Rosie.”

“Rickard!” Pavel shouted, stopping so abruptly, he wrenched Kaila’s arm. He stood swaying, head cocked as if listening.

“What’s up with you stopping like that?” she teased, turning to confront him, hands on hips. “I need that arm, you know? I oughta…” Her words petered out as she registered the expression on his face. Agony etched grooves along his cheeks, hollowed out his eyes. “Baby, what’s wrong? What is it?”

“I heard Rickard screaming. Now I can’t hear him at all!” He trained his frantic gaze on her. “You try.”

Kaila strained herself, using her newfound mental powers until a headache developed.

Sorry, honey, I’m not having any luck. I can hear you, but I can’t get even a feel for him.

Pavel’s face became grim. “I need to find him. He’s in trouble.”

Kaila went up on tiptoe, brushed a kiss on his tight mouth, and turned him back up the corridor. “Go. You need to gather the posse and get on this. I’ll deal with the Brandon/Rosemary situation.” She shivered, rubbed the gooseflesh pebbling her arms. “Something is off, doesn’t feel right. Check with the NHP Hunter sent. Maybe he knows what’s going on.”

Invitations

 

Elise stood up when Pavel came through the door and rushed over to hand him a folded paper, relieved he’d finally returned. He hadn’t answered his page and she hadn’t known whether to intercom him over the spa’s system or not. “Alpha, this note arrived while you were away. One of the stable hands delivered it.” She lowered her voice. “He said Delin had given it to him.”

Pavel growled and snatched the paper out of her hand. “Filthy piece of excrement had the audacity to do this.” He stormed passed her.

Elise fell back, startled by the Alpha’s abruptness. “Yes, Alpha…?”

“Never mind, Elise. I’ll be in my office.”

* * * * *

Elise stood up when Pavel came rushing through the door of the complex again. Her eyes wide, she sniffed the air, found the familiar signature scent of her Alpha: evergreen trees, dark, loamy richness of fresh-turned earth, and a whiff of the chill winds that blew across the high slopes of the Drestovian Mountains. “Alpha…!”

Pavel held up a hand. “Not now, Elise. We have an emergency. See if you can get in touch with Prince Rickard. I’ll be in my office getting hold of the helicopter.”

Elise swallowed. “Alpha, you’re already in your office!”

 

Gut churning with a mixture of worry and fury, Pavel burst through the door of his office, prepared for anything but what awaited him.

Aricles sat at his desk, calmly rifling through a thick pile of personnel files, his gloved hands deftly turning the pages. Leaning on the desk in a stance reminiscent of himself, was…himself.

“What the fuck is going on, here?” He pointed at the fake Pavel. “Start by telling me who the hell this is?”

Aricles rocked back in the chair. “Don’t you recognize yourself?”

“Ari, stop it. Rickard…” The other Pavel shook his head. “Rickard loves him. I’m not sure what they are to each other now, but they were once lovers. It’s cruel to tease at a time like this.”

Pavel latched on to that telling pause. “What do you know about Rickard? Where is he? Is he…hurt?” He refused even to verbalize the word he’d started to use. Rickard couldn’t be dead.

Again, the other Pavel answered. “Delin has him. He’s hurt badly. We have to get him back as quickly as possible.”

The pain in Pavel’s gut relaxed. As long as Rickard was alive, he could deal with everything else. “Who the fuck are you and why are you wearing my face?”

“I’m sorry. I forgot I haven’t formally introduced myself. I’m Indigo Carter of the NHP.”

Pavel’s eyes narrowed. “She never arrived. You”-- he turned his head and glared at the being occupying his seat -- “stepped off the tram alone.”

Aricles nodded. “But for the huge tabby your prince was toting around.”

Pavel’s gaze swung back to Indigo. “You’re a shifter?”

“A multimorph, actually.” She held out his hand.

Pavel eyed it warily, sniffing to catch her scent. Hell, she even smelled like him. Pavel wondered if she and Rickard had…he shook his head, deciding not to go there.

Aricles cleared his throat. “If I might bring you up to speed?”

“Please do,” Pavel invited. The other man moved to vacate his chair but he waved him back down. “Don’t bother. I’m too antsy to sit still, anyway. Just cut to the chase, as my bitch would say.”

“We wanted to do this without you, expose as few people as possible to keep the variables down to a minimum. Unfortunately, we’ve run into a snag. Give him the note, Indi.”

Pavel2 passed him a piece of paper and he unfolded it, read the scribbled words. “A million dollars? Is he insane? We don’t keep that kind of money on hand here.”

“We have it,” Aricles assured him. “This is our sting. We’ll bankroll it. Besides, he won’t have much chance to spend it if everything plays out like it should.”

“Okay, what’s my part?”

“Meet with Delin. Listen to his demands and bargain with him. Buy us time to get to Rickard so Indigo can replace him.”

Pavel shot a startled look at the morpher. “Why would you need to take his place?”

“Delin will never give Rickard up. He knows you, knows he’s dead the minute he’s not hiding behind your ruler. If he thinks he can’t escape, he’ll kill Rickard just for spite.” Indigo turned desperate eyes toward Aricles. “But if we don’t hurry, he’ll die from his injuries.”

Pavel growled and Aricles frowned. “We don’t know that for certain.”

“I do,” Indigo insisted. “I saw him lying in a puddle of blood, very, very dead. My visions are always accurate. That’s why I’m taking his place.”

Aricles held up a manila file. “You’ll need a pair of gloves to handle this. I’ve touched it. Make sure you hand it to Delin spine first.” The smile that curved the Greek’s lips wasn’t pleasant by a long shot. “I have a little surprise for our greedy wulf.”

Dealing

 

“I’m so happy you two have worked things out!” Kaila averted her gaze as Rosemary pulled on a loose robe. The two were alone, Brandon having run out to catch Pavel and offer to help. “I just hope all our stories have a happy ending today.”

Rosemary sat on the side of the bed, feeling less embarrassed than she should have, being caught rolling around the floor with a half wulf, half human creature’s huge cock lodged in her pussy.

“You can’t be more deliriously happy than I am at this moment.” She glanced down at the already fading marks, excitement curling in the pit of her tummy. She was a wulf breed, designed for sharing sex with a wulf in its most primal form. Brandon had used his teeth and claws on her and she’d loved it. He had the scratches on his back to prove it.

Rosemary crossed her legs, squeezed her thighs, putting pressure on her clit. She relished the twinge in her pussy that still throbbed from the working over her lusty lover had given it. Tonight, he was going to bind her to him forever by fucking her in his fur form. She couldn’t wait!

“So, do the two of you have any plans?”

“I’m sorry dear, I didn’t quite catch that.”

“I feel you, sister,” Kaila said, grinning in her face. “Ain’t love grand?”

Rosemary sank into a well of peace thinking of all Brandon meant to her. He was so much more than sex on two -- or four -- feet. “I will never stop being thankful for what I have been given. If that means facing the world with all its prejudices and intolerances, so be it.”

Kaila patted her hand. “Why not stay here? Pavel’s hired me to be the client advocate and I want you to be my assistant.”

Remembered shame had Rosemary lowering her eyes. “Why would you do that when I was so mean to you?”

“Girl, that crud is behind us. I wasn’t too nice, not warning you Pavel was watching. Did you know I got the same number of swats you did? Only Pavel is a lot more heavy-handed than Brandon is. My bottom burned for days!”

“Oh, Kaila, how horrible!”

Kaila grinned. “Are you kidding? That man fucked me so hard and good afterward; I may have been sitting on my knees, but I was wearing a smile for days! I loved it.”

Rosemary giggled. “What is it with us breeds? Do we all like it rough?”

“Bless those ancient scientists’ little souls, they had the right idea. If you’re gonna design a woman to withstand rigorous sex, you might as well build in an enjoyment of it.” She relaxed back on the bed. “So, how about it, Rosie…wanna sign on?”

Her answer was prim and proper, one a gently bred woman of older years would make. “This is Brandon’s den. He has the final word.” She grinned. “If he doesn’t say yes, I’ll twist his balls till he yelps!”

* * * * *

Pavel stared at the unkempt wulf facing him, hatred running wild and turbulent through him. This creature had fouled his den by killing one under his protection, dared to raise his hand against Pavel’s sovereign and brother, and now demanded freedom and funds. “I’ve cried Wulfshead on you to all the Alphas. No pack will receive you. Give me one good reason not to gut you now.”

Delin tossed down a bloody cloth. “Your friend has a great fucking hole in his head. I replaced these bandages and applied pressure, but if I don’t get what I want, I’ll let him bleed out.”

The smell of Rickard’s blood wafted sweet and familiar from the filthy, sodden rags. Rickard had lost a lot of blood, maybe too much! Pavel’s rumbling growl vibrated the ground at his feet, sent small animals scuttling for safety. “If he dies, I’ll not only kill you, I’ll find and destroy every member of your den. Your dam, your sire…there will not be a wulf within four generations of you left living.”

Delin snarled. “You think I don’t know that? Look, this was an accident. I only meant to take him hostage. I wasn’t aiming at Orloffberg. Give me my file and the money, supply a way off this hellhole, and I’m out of your life.”

“I want my prince. If I don’t see my prince you get nothing but a hundred days of dying.”

“Not gonna happen. You can see him at the airstrip. Have a stretcher brought and the pilots can carry him on. The faster you get that transport going, the faster he’ll get to the hospital.”

Furious, frustrated that his hands were tied and he couldn’t give Delin the death he so richly deserved, Pavel handed him the manila folder. “Your file. The money will be at the plane, along with the stretcher.” He bared his fangs. “I warn you, Delin. My prince and I share a bond. I will know if he dies. I’ve ordered a bomb hidden on that plane. You won’t have time to find it before takeoff. If Rickard dies, so do you.”

Delin started. He shifted the folder to his other hand, wiping the first on his pants with a nervous, antsy motion. “You’d blow up the innocent pilots along with me?”

“I’d blow up half the world to get at you. The remaining half would be better off. My only concern is getting Rickard to medical help. If that plane is still on the runway in fifteen minutes, I’ll blow it up.”

Delin smirked. “I don’t believe you.”

Pavel stared at him, implacable hatred lodged in his heart. “You should have done better research before you chose to cross me. You were right to doubt the rumors of my past. I didn’t challenge my sire to a leadership duel. I used my battle form and fucking beat him to death with a bone club.”

The other wulf backed away, muttering, “Fucking lunatic!”

“We’ll meet again. Wait for it.”

* * * * *

Pavel smelled Aricles when he appeared behind him. “Is it done?”

“Indigo is in place and Rickard is at the spa’s infirmary. The doctors have stopped the bleeding, but they can’t rouse him. They don’t have the equipment needed for a full assessment.”

Pavel turned to Aricles, willing to beg for his friend’s life. “You could get him to the mainland in time. If you do this, my entire pack will be in your debt.”

Aricles shook his head. “No need for that, Janecek. I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Indigo. As soon as the doctors say he’s clear, I’ll take him wherever you say.”

Hope

 

Pavel’s eyes stung as he watched Aricles disappear, teleporting his precious cargo. Being able to cut out the traveling time might be the only thing to save Rickard’s life. Ten minutes later, the helicopter lifted off, carrying Brandon and Rosemary, who would stay at the hospital and serve as liaisons between the staff and Pavel. Pavel, acting head of state with Rickard incapacitated, had given the two diplomatic clout to override local customs and hospital red tape.

The physicians, alerted and assembled before he arrived, rushed Rickard into examination and presurgery almost before Aricles laid him on the gurney. Brandon called shortly afterward to share the disquieting findings.

“They said the prince has bone shards embedded in his brain, causing his coma. The removal of the shards is…oh, hell. I can’t wrap my brain around the big words right now. Alpha, the long and short of it is, they have to come out. They’re not offering much hope. Even if he makes it through the surgery, he might not ever get back to what he was before. So, anyway, the docs say it’s a short clock and it’s ticking. This is your call.”

“Tell them to do it. I’ll fax my authorization, but you have the power to sign my name. Don’t waste a minute of Rickard’s time.”

“You got it.” Brandon’s voice lowered. “I’ll, uh, we’ll call afterward, as soon as it’s over.”

During the long hours Rickard lay under the knife the media world held its breath, breaking for quarter-hour updates.

Pavel paced and cursed.

Kaila kept people and objects out of his way.

The Drestovian people prayed.

Aricles brooded, recalling promises and calculating possibilities.

Half a world away, a tiny, dirty street urchin huddled in a dark alley, indigo blue eyes squeezed shut in concentration. Live. Live. Live. Drouch…

Joyful Tidings

 

Kaila set up, squinting groggily at the ringing phone, wondering if she should get up and answer it. Rickard was coming along nicely, though still not talking. He was off the critical list and they’d already had their nightly report from Rosemary and Brandon.

She lay back down, deciding she’d let Pavel do the honors. Nudging her sleeping partner in the side, she said, “Pavel, the phone’s ringing.”

His sleepy voice came back, “Why don’t you answer it?”

She yawned. “It’s for you.”

His wide yawn cracked his jaw. “How do you know?”

She pulled the covers over her shoulders. “I’ll take ‘nobody calls me at three o’clock in the morning,’ for a hundred, Alex.”

He groaned, stretching and yawning again. “Hey, I wear myself out pleasing you and you’re giving me smart-mouthed answers, bitch.”

“I got your bitch.” She cupped her pussy, her mouth widening in an appreciative smile. “And she’s certainly enjoyed your pleasuring.”

He rolled out of bed, still protesting, and padded over to the table. She leaned up to watch that fine ass flexing, giving a silent but heartfelt shout-out to her favorite cock. Even relaxed and swinging, it made her mouth water. All of a sudden, sleep was the furthest thing from her mind.

Pavel snatched up the phone and barked, “Hello. It’s late. You woke up my bitch. This better be good.”

Straining, she barely made out the gruff, low bass tones of some male speaking excitedly.

Pavel’s demeanor changed, became electrified. “It is…? Forgiveness, yes, I’ll speak with him. Yes, I’ll hold!”

Kaila scooted out of bed and tiptoed over to tap Pavel’s arm. “Who is it, babe? What’s going on?”

Covering the mouthpiece of the phone with his hand, he said, “Uh-uh! You had your chance to answer the phone. Now you can wait till I’m finished.” He playfully shooed her away, turning her toward their bed and sending her off with a light but sharp swat to the buttocks.

“Hey! That hurt!”

* * * * *

Pavel turned from placing the phone receiver back on the hook, a wide grin on his face. “Madam,” he said, rubbing his hands together gleefully, “I have been given permission to announce that as acting pack Prima, your first official duty will be shopping for a gift for Hunter and Melody’s new daughter, Tamera Joy McCallum!”

“Hooray! Pavel, that’s wonderful news!” Kaila bounced on the bed. “I can’t wait to call Melody and get all the inside scoop. I bet Hunter is over the moon!”

“You don’t know the half of it.” He came back to the bed, lifted the covers for her to crawl under, and slid in beside her, cuddling up close. “That wulf is so in love it’s scary. He was crying, Kaila.” Pavel swallowed thickly, still moved with awe when he recalled Hunter’s shaky voice saying, She’s so beautiful, so precious, Pavel. She’s my Joy, man, my Joy. I’ll reshape the world if I have to, to keep her, Blair, and my Mel forever safe.

Pavel sighed, looking pensive. “Among the packs, Hunter McCallum is legendary for his strength and hardness, yet he’s the same man that was on the phone with me, sobbing with joy, giddy with happiness. I’m so awed and humbled to know he considers me a friend, someone he can share his true feelings with.”

Kaila slid her arms around Pavel’s waist and hugged him tight. “You’re always on me about my low self-esteem, but you are so completely blind to your own merit. Pavel, that wulf is lucky to have you as his friend.”

Pavel dropped a kiss on her lips. “I think you’re a bit biased, but thank you, sweetheart.” He bent his head and latched onto a nipple, licking it, teasing it with little nips of his teeth.

Her torso arched up, nipple burning under the hot pull of his mouth. Her womb clenched, releasing melted desire. One hand slid under her, supporting her shoulders, while the other coasted down her belly, fingers tangling in the damp hair on her mound.

Mouth busy at her breast, he found and played with her clit, rolling the fat nubbin between his thumb and forefinger while his middle and ring fingers pumped in and out of her tight sex.

“Goddess,” he groaned, hot breath pouring over her distended nipple. “You’re already sopping.”

Kaila writhed under him, unable to control her body’s need to move. “I’m always ready for you. I feel like a damned slut.”

“You’re my slut and I love it that you’re so wet for me; it lets me know how much you want me,” he growled before latching onto the other nipple.

Gasping, Kaila laced her fingers in the hair at the nape of Pavel’s neck, holding him to her breast. She did more than want him…she craved him. He’d loved her all through the evening, twice fucking her as the hulking, fearsome, battle-ready beast. In that guise, he’d taken her anally -- shepherded her through a landmine of intense pain -- raising her to a level of pleasure almost beyond human comprehension.

After such an erotically charged journey, any normal woman should have been sated, but the fairy-tale creature that was her mate had only to look at her and she grew instantly hungry for him.

She moaned now, planted her feet so she could pump her hips up, pressing against his roving hand, hissing at the Greek fire -- the unquenchable desire -- he sparked so easily in her pussy. “I’ll always want you, need you, and love you -- all of you: wulf, beast, and man. Please, Pavel, fuck me now. Don’t make me wait.”

Releasing her breast, his mouth meandered down the valley between her full mounds, stopped to lick the crease under the heavy curves. Her pulse pounded in her clit and it stood stiff, engorged and throbbing.

Kaila keened, raked her nails down his back as his teeth latched onto the bundle of screaming nerves. Like fireflies, desire lit her up from within. Pleasurable sensations danced in her belly, caused the walls of her pussy to flutter in carnal excitement. She whimpered, going out of her mind with the building pressure of an explosive orgasm. “Pavel, I can’t take much more…”

I need you to take everything I give you, drouch. I want you to accept me loving you in any form. Can you, will you do that?

Her answer came swiftly. Whenever you speak mind-to-mind, I know it’s important to you. What do you need? I’d do anything for you, my love. Haven’t these last few days shown you how willing I am to accept you?

Will you bond totally with me, allow me to fuck you in my fur form?

Kaila’s heart leapt in her breast. At last!

Pulse gone crazy, Kaila struggled out from underneath him, twisting around to face him. Tears flowed down her cheeks. “Ever since Melody explained things to me, I’ve been dying a little bit every day, waiting for what seemed like forever, for you to offer me what amounts to a marriage proposal among your kind.” She wiped the wetness from her face with shaking hands and continued, voice clogged and nasally. “For a while there, I thought you’d decided not to. I don’t know why you waited so long, and I don’t care. Right now, I’m just glad you have, so yes. Thank you. I w-would lo-love to m-marry y-you.” She broke down in hiccupping sobs.

“Oh my love, oh love-oh-love-oh-love oh drouch, I’m so sorry!” Pavel snatched her up in his embrace, his frantic breathing gusting in her flushed face. “Every fiber of my being yearns to protect and shelter you, and instead, it seems I’m always hurting you.”

“Not this time,” she said, pulling him down to her. “This time you’ve made me the happiest woman in the world.”

“Not yet, I haven’t,” he said, an endearing leer on his craggy, handsome face as he tipped her over onto her belly. “But I’m about to make us both extremely happy. To do that, I need you on your knees, my pretty bitch. They don’t call it doggy style for nothing.”

Kaila sniffed, laughing through the last of her tears. They dried fast as the heat rose between them. “Are you going to shift now?”

Pavel piled two pillows beneath her belly. “Open your legs wide, babe. Show me that juicy pussy.” He came around to her side. “Not this time, Kaila. I’ll wait to shift once I’m inside you. The wulf is naturally dominant. This first time, I think it wiser to keep things calm.”

She nodded, not minding in the least that he wanted to go slow and easy with this. She had a lifetime of taboos to overcome and knew she’d be stiff and hesitant this virgin flight. “Whatever you say, Pavel.”

He laughed hard at that. “If only I could hear that sentiment on a regular basis!”

Kaila reared up, but his hand on her back kept her down. Two fingers sank into her without preamble, tightening things low in her belly. His terse voice sounded at her behind and above her as he played in her pussy, idly stroking in and out of her wet heat while he instructed her on how to deal with his animal side. She could hear his nervousness in his sharp tones.

“Keep your head down and your butt up. Keep your legs open. I’ll try to be careful when I grab you by the waist for a handhold, but my claws are sharp. If you move too much, I’ll use them to hold you still, might also immobilize you by sinking my teeth in your shoulder. Use our mental connection to talk to me. That way, I’ll stay focused, and you won’t get so frightened. Remember I love you and won’t harm you.”

She harrumphed. “I noticed you said harm, not hurt. Don’t worry. I’ll be still as a church mouse.”

Pavel’s eyes twinkled down at her. “Wulves eat mice.”

She smiled at him. “Yes, I know. This particular wulf eats pussy, too.” Under her breath, though she was sure he heard her, she added, “From now on, that better be pussy in the singular.”

“Of course it will be. Besides the fact that I love you desperately, a wulf is incapable of infidelity once the bonding takes place.”

Kaila sighed, more than ready to be bonded to her wulf and she told him so. “Honey, I can’t wait to embark on this next segment of our lives together. Thank you for loving me.”

Pavel pulled his fingers from her and fit his cock to her dripping entry. As he eased in, he spoke to her mind-to-mind.

They say that all your choices lead you to your present. If that’s so, then my entire life has been leading me to you and I wouldn’t change a single heartrending thing so long as I end up here with the love of my life.

Kaila’s heart buckled. There was nothing in the world she wouldn’t do to be with this man, this wulf who had snatched her from her mediocre life and given her a reason to rise above the drabness of self-hatred. She rocked back into his gentle strokes, telling him without words how much she needed and wanted him.

We become one, now, my precious bitch!

She felt the magic washing over her back, warming her and filling her with a mixture of heady emotion.

Take me, Pavel, in every way you want, all the ways you need me. I’m yours!

In her mind’s eye, she watched Pavel shift, modeling her imagination after the actual changes she’d witnessed before. She knew how his body would shorten, his arms and legs thicken and reshape themselves into something more powerful, more primal than the animal modern man had devolved into. His beautiful mouth would give way to a muzzle and broad head crowned with upthrust ears, his tail emerge to wave like a plumed banner lifted in triumph as he claimed and mounted his woman, his bitch, his mate. Thrusting her ass high in the air, she invited his possession.

 

Fangs bared, the wulf Pavel howled his challenge to any who would seek to take his position. The well-fleshed bitch beneath him whimpered her surrender, lowered her body, and raised her sex to him, as was his due. Her fecund scent -- reeking of desire and of ripe feminine flesh dripping with honeyed warmth -- wafted across his nostrils, beckoning him to the feast of her body.

Heavy forepaws clenching her waist, holding her down, the wulf flexed his powerful haunches, jack-hammering his wulven ramrod cock in and out of the tight, clasping sheath of his bitch, fucking her into submission, dominating her, establishing forever his Alpha position -- his right to rule. He would take her over and over, fuck her again and again, cover her flesh with his scent, fill her belly with his seed so that all would know this prime bitch was claimed! Throwing back his head, he sang the ancient song of victory, claimed the ancient right of the conqueror to mate.

 

Kaila screamed in crazed ecstasy, her body convulsing as jet after jet of hot thick sperm shot high in her womb. Locked to Pavel by his teeth in her neck, her stuffed pussy strained to contain the huge knot of his cock as pulse after pulse of life flooded her; she joined in his song of togetherness.

Pavel, I am yours. And you are my love, my master, my mate.

The wulf was humming.

Kaila listened with half a brain, the other half submerged in an ocean of peace after sharing the most profound sex of her life. She thought she recognized the song as one she’d been trying to teach to Pavel. When she realized which song it was she smiled, truly content with the world.

I like big butts…

The Challenge

 

No fool, Pavel waited to spring his information on Kaila until she was drifting on the verge of sleep, worn out by his insatiable demands. “Sweetheart, I didn’t tell you earlier, but when Hunter called, he had the audacity to challenge me to a contest. Of course, as the Alpha of Pack Drestovia, I had to accept.”

She gave a sleepy snort. “Of course you did. You males and your challenges…”

“I hope you’ll like this one.” Pavel’s mouth widened with a giddy, anticipatory grin.

“Sure I will, honey.” Kaila hummed.

He rolled over to his side, slid an arm around Kaila, and tucked her in close so she fit along his chest and groin. One hand covering her breast, the other resting on her mound -- his favorite sleeping position -- he whispered in her ear, “The old dog wagered I couldn’t make more daughters than him. I took that bet, drouch. Therefore, your first and ongoing unofficial duty as Alpha Prima of Pack Drestovia will be to help me prove him wrong. Hopefully, we’ve already entered the race.”

He thought his heart would burst with gladness when she gave a sleepy Bronx cheer and chanted, “Yeah, team Drestovia! Go Alpha!”

 




 

 

 

 

Camille Anthony

 

Camille Anthony, a sunny California transplant, is quick to say her fertile imagination and a love of romance fuels her writing, which she has been doing since grade school. Her favorite stories are those of strong, honorable people -- whatever the race, or planet of origin -- who are driven by love and lust to find and hold that one special someone. She likes her heroines feisty, her heroes dominant and her passion red hot!

She loves to hear from her readers. Your comments and suggestions are appreciated. 

Visit Camille on the Web at www.camilleanthony.com or send an e-mail to her at camilleanthony@camilleanthony.com.