Authors: Lorie O'Clare
“Damn,” Jarvis said, smelling proud. He easily pushed her
thighs apart and raised his head, grinning at her. “My precious mate needed
that badly, didn’t you?”
“Jarvis,” she gasped, words failing her.
“Is there something else you want?”
She couldn’t stop panting. Even the aftermath of her orgasm
took everything from her.
“I know there is something
I
want,” he continued,
repositioning himself. “Take my cock, precious Cariboo.”
She blinked a few times before managing to move her hand.
When she could barely lift her head, Jarvis leaned forward, sliding his hand
behind her head and holding her up so she could reach and see what she was
doing.
“Put me inside you.”
Katrin gripped his cock, its tip already pressed against her
soaked pussy. She’d just come harder than she had in ages, possibly forever,
yet she took her time.
Jarvis reached for her hand. She slapped it out of the way.
“My turn, Cariboo,” she growled, not looking up for his
reaction.
She didn’t take her attention from her hand slowly stroking
his cock. He was rock-hard, throbbing and heavy. Katrin ran her fingers along
the smooth, soft skin that moved with her touch, and admired the perfect shape
of him.
“Katrin, enough!” Jarvis grabbed her hand before she could
stop him. “You’ll make me explode at this rate.”
She giggled, something she hadn’t done in a long time.
Although she didn’t fight him when he pressed his cock to her entrance, she did
arch up when he impaled her. He went so deep with his first thrust that once
again her world exploded.
Her eyes happened to be open at that moment and she stared
deep into Jarvis’. Something shifted. She wasn’t sure what, but even the smell
in the air changed. Jarvis began moving, receding and plunging with equal force
and speed. They didn’t look away but stared. Katrin drowned in his gaze,
knowing as they made love, her world had permanently changed. And there was no
turning back.
McAllister was out in front of his den talking to someone in
a patrol car when Jarvis went downstairs. Jarvis had left Katrin upstairs to
shower, sated and happy. He smelled like Katrin, a scent he really enjoyed and
planned on getting really accustomed to smelling.
His mate.
There was no way to smell McAllister’s scent through the
front window. Jarvis watched the male lean against a patrol car and talk to
whoever was inside. He’d been attacked by a human weapon earlier in an effort
to get those cops to leave him and Katrin alone. More than likely they were
discussing more ways to keep Katrin and him here. But why? He wanted answers
now. They had no right to detain either of them.
This wasn’t his den and it wasn’t his pack. He couldn’t howl
the law here. Suddenly the walls of the living room seemed to close in around
him. No matter how hard McAllister’s human mate had worked to make this a nice
den, right now it was nothing more than a cage. He and Katrin needed to get out
of here, and soon.
Even before opening the front door and walking over to
McAllister, Jarvis knew he’d smell hostility and mistrust. He had guessed
accurately.
McAllister straightened when Jarvis approached. There was a
lunewulf
male sitting in the car.
“Where’s your mate?” the male in the patrol car asked. It
was the male who had shot Jarvis and Katrin the day before with the
tranquilizers.
“Why do you care?” Jarvis snarled, matching the smell of
hostility surrounding the male he approached. He would much rather have
continued smelling of Katrin.
“Because she—”
McAllister held up his hand. The male in the patrol car
growled but quit speaking. “You brought the two of us to your den and turned it
into a cage and ask why I care?” Jarvis snarled, feeling his teeth press
against the inside of his mouth.
McAllister took Jarvis’ arm and started away from the patrol
car.
“Get your paws off me,” Jarvis growled, yanking his arm
free.
The
lunewulf
started to get out of the car.
“Give us a minute, Beuerlein,” McAllister said and must have
forced his emotions under check. He suddenly had no scent.
The air around them only reeked of Jarvis’ anger. He wasn’t
quite ready to rein in his emotions. Neither he, nor Katrin, had wronged this
pack in any way. It wasn’t their pack, and it never would be. Both of them had
honored the rules and ways of everyone who lived here. It was this pack that
was wronging them. Maybe they hadn’t killed Katrin yet. But their dishonor was
strong, especially when they believed they had to put a werewolf on patrol
wherever Katrin might be.
“Jarvis, come over here.” McAllister continued walking away
from the other
lunewulf
but didn’t try touching Jarvis again.
He complied. Following the Cariboo male warily, he sniffed
the air. The asshole. Marc had drank a beer with him, howled with him as a
friend, then betrayed both him and Katrin by turning his fucking den into a
trap. Now McAllister wouldn’t reveal his line of thought by concealing how he
smelled. Jarvis didn’t trust him.
Katrin had been smart to run.
“What do you want?” Jarvis sneered under his breath. He had
no problem displaying his anger.
McAllister sniffed the air once and stared at Jarvis with
hard, cold blue eyes. For a moment he stared across the field toward the tree
line beyond his den.
“You think I’m your enemy,” he began.
“You have a strange way of showing friendship,” Jarvis
growled.
“Maybe it will smell a bit better here in a bit.”
“How do you figure?” Jarvis demanded. “Are you going to send
that patrol car away?”
“I can’t do that,” McAllister said, his low growl barely
audible. “At least not yet.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Jarvis didn’t see
any reason to whisper. He wasn’t in the wrong here and would howl that obvious
fact to anyone.
“Don’t you think I understand your pain and anger?”
McAllister turned on him, suddenly smelling of all the outrage he’d apparently
been stuffing until a moment ago. “Do you think I don’t know what it’s like to
love a female your pack condemns?” he snarled.
McAllister grew in size. His body was suddenly too big for
his uniform and it stretched taut against bulging muscles.
Jarvis wasn’t daunted. “You would think so,” he said,
allowing just as much muscle on him. “But it appears you’ve overcome being
mated to a human. Either way, I’m not doing the same. Katrin is a werewolf, the
same as you and me.”
“She’s a Malta werewolf, Alger. And I don’t believe you’ve
been so buried in those mountains that you don’t know what that means.”
“I know about Malta werewolves. They have powers, can move
things, or some such bullshit like that. Katrin hasn’t been chemically altered
like those monsters were,” Jarvis yelled, the growl in his throat making his
words garbled.
“She severely injured a male out on Toubec’s land,”
McAllister roared.
Beuerlein got out of his patrol car but Jarvis ignored him.
He stepped into McAllister’s space, his hands fists at his side. “That was
self-defense.”
“Cariboo are accepted among this pack,” McAllister warned,
his expression fierce with rage. “And the way I hear what happened—”
Jarvis was about done with this Cariboo cop who relied on
the howlings of a pack instead of smelling out the truth. He doubted McAllister
knew what truth even smelled like.
“As long as their blood is pure,” Jarvis sneered. “I can
smell your hypocrisy, werewolf.”
“I doubt you could smell shit!”
“I know what I smell. And trust me, I know when it’s crap.”
“Then you would understand the pain from a male who knows
how it feels for his mate not to be accepted.”
Jarvis shook his head. He never thought he’d sniff out a
Cariboo, one of his own kind, who ran without his balls.
Beuerlein stood outside the patrol car, hands on hips,
watching them. McAllister had pulled Jarvis off to the side of his den but then
began howling loud enough to easily be heard. When he’d insisted on talking
with Jarvis privately, that should have smelled like a joke. Because it was.
McAllister obviously didn’t care who heard what he roared at Jarvis. If
McAllister wanted to yell loud enough for others to hear, Jarvis damn well
didn’t have a problem doing the same thing.
“Cariboo have lived with honor among the
lunewulf
here for over a decade,” McAllister was saying. He snapped each word out on a
mean roar. “I fought well after first blood many times to keep peace in this
pack long before I was mated. I fought to maintain my honor once I mated. And
I’m going to keep fighting if that’s what it takes.”
“You’re starting another fight now, in your own God damn
den, and after inviting us in,” Jarvis snarled between lengthened teeth
clenched together as firmly as he balled his fists at his sides. “It’s what you
intended to do all along. There’s nothing honorable about how we’re being
treated. You’re creating a fight over Katrin when she hasn’t done anything
wrong.”
McAllister took a step closer. “You’re acting like a fucking
cub, Alger! I brought you to my den for a reason.”
“I’m sure you did,” Jarvis snapped.
He didn’t back down. If McAllister wanted a fight, he’d give
it to him. He wished Katrin wasn’t inside the male’s den though. Jarvis would
somehow figure out how to howl to his littermate, because he and Katrin were
leaving now. No way were they staying in this male’s den one more night.
“Don’t bare your teeth to me, werewolf. You’re a fucking
fool.”
“I’m the fool?” Jarvis roared. “You have no honor! Your den
reeks of human so bad I doubt you even know what honor smells like. I’m no fool
for wanting Katrin. She is Cariboo and runs with honor and pride!”
“Keep my mate out of this.” McAllister pointed a finger at
Jarvis’ chest. “I’m the only Cariboo who’s tried to help you. If you only
knew—”
“You put my mate in a cage,” Jarvis roared. He pointed at
Beuerlein and the patrol car. “And with a fucking guard watching her as if she
might do something to shame your precious fucking
lunewulfs
. If he tries
shooting either of us again, he’ll be the one locked in your home. That’s a
fucking promise. You’d be better off putting your mate in a cage than mine. At
least mine won’t burn dens to the ground and try killing off our kind!”
The sound that came out of McAllister definitely wasn’t
human. The Cariboo leapt forward, and Jarvis knew the full impact of his weight
when McAllister bulldozed into him. He was briefly aware of Beuerlein racing at
him too. Enough rage burned through his veins. Jarvis had no problem taking on
both of them.
He took on McAllister and roared when he threw the male. McAllister
went sprawling backward halfway across his yard. Jarvis was surprised that he
had the strength to hurl the large Cariboo male that far. In his rage, he
didn’t care.
What Jarvis didn’t expect was to go flying backward as well.
“Fucking tail!” he wailed. Jarvis landed very
unceremoniously on his butt.
At the same time he heard Katrin scream. She stood just
outside the front door to McAllister’s den. He snapped his attention to her,
the rage inside him damn near clogging the air so he couldn’t see through the
stench of it. Katrin’s hands went to her mouth.
“Katrin,” he whispered.
She stared at him, wide-eyed. She turned her head slowly and
looked at McAllister, then returned her attention to Jarvis. McAllister had
also landed on his ass, a good twenty feet away. Jarvis was strong and a damn
good fighter, but he wasn’t capable of throwing a full-grown male that far
across the yard.
Jarvis stared at Katrin.
Oh my sweet little Cariboo,
what
have you done?
Katrin didn’t look away. His rage dissipated enough to smell
her sadness and confusion. She began shaking her head just slightly, as if
denying what he was beginning to see as the truth.
His adorable little werewolf had broken up their fight by
throwing two full-grown Cariboo werewolves across the yard simply by willing
it.
Fucking tail!
She continued staring at Jarvis despite the sound of popping
gravel in the driveway. A Suburban parked behind the patrol car and Johann
Rousseau, the pack leader, got out. A young cub, maybe eight or nine, jumped
out of the truck next to his sire. The cub looked at Jarvis and McAllister,
confused. Rousseau didn’t look quite as confused.
Jarvis scrambled to his feet, fearing the pack leader had
seen more than Jarvis wished he had. McAllister jumped to his feet as well.
“Fucking tail!” Rousseau roared, confirming all fears that
he’d witnessed the breakup of their fight.
Jarvis hurried to Katrin. She stood frozen, looking worse
than a doe fearing its last breath. Her panicked expression would be burned in
his mind forever. He reached Katrin, grabbed her, just as McAllister hurried to
his side.
“Tell your mate to run southeast through the hills to a
lake. It’s out of Rousseau’s pack territory. She’ll be safe there and it’s a
good meeting place for you to join her later.” McAllister whispered so fast and
low it was hard to grasp what he was saying. “Tell her to run now, before it’s
too late.”
Beuerlein was already howling all the details to Rousseau.
Katrin came out of her frozen state and twisted in Jarvis’
arms. He didn’t want to let her go.
“I don’t know what happened,” she began, her fear so strong
it was damning. “You attacked him,” she accused McAllister.
Her incisors were long and lightning streaks in her blue
eyes made them appear almost silver. Her damp auburn hair, streaked with blonde
highlights, was darker in a few places. Her hair fell loose down her back.
“Males fight,” McAllister grumbled.
Jarvis looked at him. The male didn’t smell mad. He smelled
worried. The truth hit him hard enough to constrict around his heart. He looked
down at Katrin. Beuerlein had almost finished howling everything that had
happened since Jarvis walked out of McAllister’s den.
“Go inside,” he whispered to Katrin. “Grab your backpack.
Head out the back door and do as McAllister says.”
“But—” she began.
Jarvis put his finger over her lips. They were moist, soft
and his heart hurt even more. “Go,” he whispered. “Run, my little Cariboo.
Leave here before it’s too late.”