Rannulf
“I’m supposed to whore for how many horny wolves?”
Well, at least she’s not referring to me or my kind as dogs. Plus,
Kamra
finally has a grasp of the difference between shifters and werewolves. It’s unbelievable that no one has ever thought to teach her these things. Damn, she looks delectable wearing nothing but my shirt and boots. It’s hard to keep my eyes on the road, but I really need to get her back to the den. I need to take her again, and a bed would be nice.
“You’ve seriously never known there are shifter wolves?” I ask incredulously, half because I need to change the subject. The thought of sharing my mate with others in my command isn’t sitting with me as well as it should. Had my sires felt this way? I’d never thought to ask before now; it’s just the way things are. “No one in your coven saw to the education of the young?”
Supernaturals
tend to stay within their own tight-knit groups. It is simply safer that way. Accidental discovery is inevitable, hence the legends we inspire. But an all-out revealing of our existence would be catastrophic. Humans are such a trigger-happy lot.
“I don’t have a coven.” Her voice is quiet. Too quiet. I don’t like the pain in her gaze as she focuses on the passing scenery—such as it is. Despite the full moon, it is rather dark in the country. Besides, there isn’t much to see, just trees lining the dark road.
I’ve taken her twice more since the first two times. I just can’t seem to get enough. My dick is still half hard, missing the hot, wet snugness of her pussy. Really, my woman has the prettiest pussy it’s ever been my pleasure to behold. The downy, ebony pubic hair is all shaped and trimmed, her labia just the right amount of puffy. And her taste...I’m licking my lips greedily, savoring any traces that might linger. Fuck, now I’m at full staff. I’ve
gotta
stop this or I’ll be pulling over and ripping my shirt off of her and mounting her again. Barely stifling a growl, I punch the engine. I really need to get to the den.
“Witches with your kind of power are rare,” I muse, not only prodding for answers to the mystery of
Kamra
Sama
, but also because I need a distraction. I don’t want to come off like an asshole, even if I am one, so I’m trying not to be insensitive. A little warning if I can expect a bunch of witches to descend on me and my pack would be nice. “Most covens would never allow a female like you loose on the male populace. It’s begging for trouble.”
Maybe she’s a runaway. I really want to demand answers, but being in her company for the last couple hours has taught me not to push.
Kamra
loves to push back. She is mine now, irrevocably. I need to know if there will be danger in the future. While wolves mate for life, witches, not so much. I wonder if she at least knows that much about her own background. Having no coven, as unheard of as it sounds, means she is probably unaware of the nature of certain species. I intend to keep her. No matter how ignorant she is, I know damn well she’s aware of the bond that’s transpired between us. Although the subject hasn’t fully come up yet, basically because I don’t want to talk about it,
it’s
best I find out as much as possible about my mate before Rollo,
Fillin
and
Seff
join us at the cabin. The rest of the pack will be warned to stay away for a while.
“For instance,” I continue, driving ever faster, “a little witch might think it okay to cast a lulling seduction spell on a bar full of natural wolves, not knowing she is very likely to end her night face down and ass up.”
That’s probably a step too far. Fuck, and I am trying to be all nice and shit.
“Wow, you’re seriously not going to let that go, are you?” she huffs. “I thought you were werewolves. I’ve yet to come across a werewolf I can’t handle.”
“Come across a few, have you?” I don’t like that one fucking bit. I should calm down. “Now, see, this is where adult supervision comes in. It teaches little girls were real dangers lie.”
I swear I want to hunt down every mongrel that ever dared looked at her with lust and rip them apart. Maybe I will make a project of that. Yeah, I like that.
“Yeah, well, we aren’t all blessed with covens or dens or whatever.”
I’ve managed to irritate her, but the sadness in her words is hard to tolerate. My woman should never be sad. Pissed, absolutely.
Kamra
is adorable as hell when she’s pissed. Sad is completely different. Sad means hurt. I’m hardwired to kick the ass of anything that dares to hurt her in any way. Whose ass do I kick for her not having a coven?
“Why don’t you have a coven,
Kamra
?” Dancing around the issue isn’t working, so I decide to get right to the heart of the matter. “What happened to them?”
I’m imagining all kinds of tragedy. I’m not at all prepared for her answer.
“I imagine the coven my mother belonged to is still around somewhere, but I have no idea where that might be.” The answer is glib on the surface, but by the goddess, the pain underneath is heavy. It laces every word, tearing me apart inside.
I am going to hunt down that fucking coven. I will make them pay for every second of loneliness, ignorance and pain she’s ever endured. I will rip them slowly limb from limb.
“My mom was kicked out of her coven for abusing her gifts, which is to say she got pregnant without permission and outside the acceptable male pool of candidates. The elders didn’t approve of the Voodoo mambo she hooked up with. They called him a practitioner of unclean magic. So they cast her away.”
Okay, that explained the no coven bit. But surely her parents would’ve taught her something?
“Turns out the mambo had no interest in being a daddy...again. He apparently has quite a few
little witches
somewhere out there. Nor was he very keen on his wife finding out about his hot young piece on the side.” The bitterness she is still feeling is palpable in the interior of the car. So thick I can fucking reach out and touch it.
I have to keep my tongue still, afraid if I say anything she may stop. I need to know her story—all of it. If there is a shadow of a chance I can make things right for her, at least by way of her family or lack thereof, I will. If not, I just have to make sure there is never a cause for her to feel alone again. Her happiness is now my main concern, even above my pack. That’s what it means to take a mate. It doesn’t matter what I have to do, who I have to kill.
When she doesn’t go on, I fill in everything she isn’t saying. “Your mother died, leaving you alone.” It’s a guess on my part, but nothing else makes any sense. Even if she’d been raised by only her mother, she would know a hell of a lot more than she does. “It’s a miracle you haven’t been forcibly mated before now.”
Annnnd
, I shouldn’t have said that.
Kamra
Of course, I am well aware I’ve been mated—thoroughly, in fact. I’m not a fucking idiot. But the smugness of his voice just pisses me off. I really don’t
mean
to punch him; my fist just
kinda
flies without forethought to connect with his jaw. And damn his eyes, his face doesn’t even fucking move. In fact, the infernal male starts giggling. Actual giggles are coming out of his mouth, like a
freakin
’ girl.
“
Ummm
, baby, I’d love to give you what you’re begging for, but I need to get you to your new home first.”
Sinful. That’s what his voice is. It’s like base lust packed on top of lascivious sensuality stuffed in a package of “Holy shit!” If I want to be honest, I’d admit I’m thrilled right down to my toes that
Rannulf
is all mine. Wolves are notoriously faithful once mated, no matter what kind of wolf they are. That doesn’t in any way mean I’m okay with the current situation. Although my body is humming, alive with all kinds of nice, tingly endorphins, my independent nature rebels at the thought of belonging to him in a way that chains me to him for all time and... Wait—he said “share” me. And that fucker has yet to explain. I distinctly remember the sneaky bastard changing the subject. Quite expertly, at that.
That tricky-ass wolf.
“How many?” I demand, focusing all my attention on his face. And yeah, I do use a truth spell behind my words. He deserves it.
Focusing so intently on him is a mistake I catch on to immediately. This man is way too sexy for any living female to handle. Still, I want answers so I brave the full-on “
Kamra
Glare.” That look usually scars almost everyone, given the menace spell I place behind it, except my band. They are completely immune to all my spells. A gift from me. Unfortunately, mating must’ve done the same to him because my magnificent glare, my truth spell—all of it—does jack and shit to him. The asshole actually cracks a wicked grin.
So I punch him again. This time in the arm because his jaw is hard. Hurts my hand.
“How many times are you going to punch me? I don’t know, but you can give me as many of those cute little punches as you like, baby.” Goddess, I can’t take that voice for much longer without jumping his bones.
The wolf has had me in just about every position imaginable without a bed, yet my pussy is starting to spasm all over again. Maybe he is part witch. Has to be, and if so, that isn’t fucking fair. So I punch him again.
Okay, maybe I
am
just daring him at this point. Sex mixed with any kind of violence has never been my thing. I used to find it
kinda
sick. And yet, here I am getting all hot and bothered all because he thought of me punching him as foreplay. I can’t allow him to distract me with that though, because I know he can smell my desire.
“How many wolves do you expect me to service, you freak-nasty
perv
,” I grind out through clenched teeth, narrowing my eyes to try to look as formidable as possible. “I thought wolves were supposed to be all territorial, and you what? Want me to spread them for your entire pack?” I can’t allow him to weasel out of an explanation. “I’m not down for being a wolf chew toy, buddy.” For emphasis, I poke his bicep with my finger. So shouldn’t have done that. Those bad boys don’t just look chiseled; they are harder than Italian marble. The second I make skin-to-skin contact I am ready to crawl into his lap and ride him to kingdom come. Who cares if he’s driving? He has supernatural reflexes, right? And I have magic. It’s a perfect combination.
Back to the subject at hand,
Kamra
,
I sternly warn myself.
“I refuse to do it. I will not be your pack whore.” And I mean it. If those supermodel wolves are even half as virile as he is, I’ll die of orgasm overload. My pussy would fall off, or worse, get up and run away. “I counted what—fifteen? Twenty of you guys while I was on stage? Go hire a couple of pros or—”
“There are four of us in leadership.”
Rannulf
cuts me off right before I can really get going. I can feel a massive bitch fest coming on. And I am really good at bitch fests. “You are my mate, and you will be the mate of the other three.
I
am the Alpha of this pack.
You
belong first and foremost to
ME
. Though in essence, you will be the mate of Rollo, my Beta or second in command,
Seff
, my Master-at-Arms and Enforcer, and
Fillin
, the Guardian of the pack and my Emissary. You will only be alone with me unless you expressly wish it otherwise. Your young, every last one of them, will be claimed by me. And given the modern times we live in, you will be officially my wife. As soon as fucking possible, we will be married legally, though by the moon you already belong to me. Tomorrow will be soon enough to marry, I guess, but tonight would’ve been nice. I guess I can wait until tomorrow.”
Whoa! Just—just, whoa!
I really want to say hell no. Everything he said is all kinds of wrong. No woman in her right mind would say yes to some crazy-ass shit like what just came out of his mouth.
But then the memory of Rollo flashes through my mind. I’m a goner. I’ve completely lost it because as he turns off the main road, I slip off his shirt and climb into his lap.
While he’s still driving.