Authors: Ambrielle Kirk
Blake drew her backward, his cock impaling her, and sat on the shower bench. Naomi kept his hand in hers and began moving, pumping her hips up and down over his solid erection. Over and over again she sheathed him. Slow, deft strokes until she had accepted him to the hilt. The moans of satisfaction escaping his lips told her she was doing something right. She worked her hips, giving him a show from behind until she couldn’t contain her release. Her pussy clenched him as she reached release again. Pangs of ecstasy spiraled through her, and her heart beat feverishly in tempo in time with her downstrokes.
Blake’s completion wasn’t too far behind hers. He lifted his hips and thrust into her, prolonging her climax as he ascended into his. Load after load of cum shot into her, searing her insides like hot lava.
Her eyes fell closed, and a sheet of red haze blinded her vision for several moments until her sight cleared. As a result of this passionate union and the acceptance of Blake’s serum into her body, their Wolf Spirits awakened to join in the sexual release. The strong release of serum took her on a sexually induced high. It was like her drug of choice. The only drug that would satisfy her indefinitely.
Her wolf rejoiced at the prospect of her mate claiming her. Each time they had sex, her wolf wanted to complete the bond, wanted to be one Spirit with her mate. Because the mate bite would be visible to all, Naomi wouldn’t accept it in the past.
“As wolf? Is that how you want to make this official?” His breaths came in pants against the sensitive area between her neck and shoulder. He pressed his tongue to the spot, releasing the serum from his glands this time. The serum marked her insides but it was temporary. To complete the bond, a mark had to be placed outside and they both needed to accept verbally.
“As wolf.”
“As you wish, my love.” He kissed the side of her face and she fell against him. “We’ll make it special. A ceremony just for us.”
With his stir stick, Devin rolled the mini-cubes of ice in his scotch glass. The warm, crisp alcohol coated the back of his throat as it slid down effortlessly.
“I’ve sent word to the men who came with you, along with your message. They can stay on the property for the night.” Tristan prepared a drink at the minibar. “It would’ve been something if they had run in my Compound because they thought you weren’t coming back.”
“You think so?”
“My men are trained to kill first and not bother with questions. There would’ve been a bloodbath before they crossed my property line.” Tristan turned with a glass in hand, leaned against the counter, and took a long sip from the glass.
Devin set his glass on an aluminum coaster. “That would’ve been a dirty maneuver, don’t you think? Invite a man here and then kill his entourage.”
Tristan studied him, the bridge of his nose wrinkling. “I’ve done it before.”
Devin shifted in his seat. “Do you have morals? Any rules at all or do you break them?”
Tristan employed dangerous methods when it came to getting rid of his enemies, but even the most heartless of men had standards of some kind. Or maybe not.
Tristan took a seat in front of him at the small table. “Rules…” He set his drink down and twisted it left and right. “Rules are like glass. They’re meant to be broken.”
“And you’re okay with the rules of your Pack being broken?”
“Okay is an overstatement.” He shrugged. “When someone breaks rules, I figure they’ve thought about the consequences. Can they afford the punishment? In answer to your questions, yes, I’ll break any rule for which I can afford the consequences.”
“Then you do believe in having rules?”
“Of course, but the point is to make the punishment so steep that—”
“No one can afford to break a rule. I got that.”
“So,” Tristan said. “Let me see if I got this right. You plan to drag Shanhah out of hiding. How will you do that?”
“Her parents are still living. They reside in the gulf coast on the borders of one of your territories.”
Tristan raised an eyebrow. “And let me guess…I’m the closest to them.”
“That’s one sure way to get her to show herself.”
“Certainly,” Tristan said, nodding. “I can set up the mission and send a crew out there to corner them.”
Devin traced the rim of his glass. “I’d want some of my men in on the action.”
“We can arrange this.” Tristan waved his hand over the chessboard. The board was made of black marble. The pieces, already set in place, were made of silver and gold. The gold pieces were closest to Devin and the silver pieces near Tristan. “Do you play?”
He grinned. “Everyone knows you’ve been crowned chess champion, ranking number one at least once.”
The corners of Tristan’s lips turned up in a grin. “Afraid?”
Devin held his laughter. “This is just a game. What should I be afraid of?”
“You’re absolutely right.” Tristan chuckled. “This is all a game. I haven’t had a worthy opponent in awhile. Are you one?”
“You can’t be that lonely,” Devin replied. “You keep your guards near. Your Elites, Enforcers, and even your Enolas live on the property.”
Tristan moved the first piece, a pawn. “Having guards near proves nothing about my lack of equal companionship.”
“And your Enolas? The women you keep on deck to fuck?” Devin followed suit, moving a pawn piece toward the center.
Tristan lifted his face toward the ceiling and burst out laughing. “You give me no chance. The amount of rumors you believe about me must be plentiful.”
“Just trying to clear the air. Don’t you have three or four mistresses at a time?”
Tristan arched an eyebrow and made his second move. “Jealous?”
“Absolutely not.”
“You have your queen, Devin. I’ve yet to find mine. I may never find her. Luck’s never been on my side, so I play my pieces to make up for that.”
Devin decided not to lay judgment. It was in a wolf’s nature to couple until his second half was found. Until then, the wolf longed for a mate and the treatment for the heat spells was to indulge in carnal acts regularly. The cure for the spells was a true mate bonding.
Tristan cleared his throat. “Your turn.”
Devin examined the board, confirming the position of the last piece he moved. “How is business?” he couldn’t help but ask. Like him, Tristan invested in and owned a multitude of companies. Tristan wasn’t known for the rising success of his legitimate business, but rather the illegitimate ones.
Devin moved a knight piece toward the center.
“Which one?” Tristan moved another pawn two spaces.
He caught a flicker of mischievousness in Tristan’s gaze. It matched his smirk. “You know what I’m talking about. Your cash cow. How are things going?”
The Arnou family had always been wealthy, but they began enter into many different markets fifty years ago when Tristan’s great-grandfather Thibaud Sr. reigned as Arnou Alpha. Rumors were circulating among the Packs that Thibaud Sr. branched into some risky dealings when he mated the niece of a Serbian Head Boss. It was then that Thibaud Sr. gained lucrative business dealings that result in quick millions. Since Thibaud Sr. was well-versed in banking operations, he moved into the business of loan-sharking.
“Business is booming as usual. I sign the dotted line and the green keeps flowing.” He cocked his head to the side. “You want in?”
Devin rubbed his chin, contemplating his next move. “I have no time to devote to illegal dealings when my legitimate earnings provide me with a substantial living.”
“And if you had time?”
His hand paused over a rook piece as he looked up to assess his opponent. “I’d find ways to make more legitimate earnings.”
“Ha!” Tristan burst into laughter again. “Then let’s talk about legitimacy.”
Devin moved the rook piece, sat back in his chair, and folded his arms across his chest.
“A little birdie came to tell me about your parentage.” Tristan’s fingers were poised over his pieces. “Roman De’Santo died. You confirmed to your people he’s your uncle, the man who should’ve held the Alpha position all this time. How’d they take the news?”
Tristan sat back, laced his fingers together, and waited.
Devin bit the inside of his bottom lip while his veins filled with irritation. He took shallow breaths through his nose to subdue his rising resentment.
He’d known the topic would be brought up one way or the other. It was like Tristan to throw something like this in his face. The announcement had been made, and the verdict shocked the village. By now rumors would. Those who stood behind him showed their support, but he remembered the hurt, doubtful looks of those who believed in the old ways—that an Alpha should be the legitimate son of his father. They probably felt crossed and let down twice. Devin Caedmon wasn’t the legitimate son of Daniel Caedmon…yet neither was his father.
“Your earnings might be legitimate but your title is not.”
Devin’s heart pounded in frustration, pumping blood rapidly to his head. He sat up in his chair and crushed his fist against the table. “I rightfully earned this title. It is mine. I was born of Daniel Caedmon’s seed. He was the Alpha before me. I rose to the position because I wanted it. Anyone besides Darius could’ve challenged me, then, if they believed I wasn’t worthy or legitimate enough.” He fixed his eyes on Tristan. “Anyone.”
Tristan’s lips twitched at both corners, and his eyes became muted and devoid of emotion. “As a bastard son, what gave you the right to claim the intellectual powers of William Caedmon II?”
Devin leapt from his chair, sending it backward. It slammed to the floor. “Is this what this is about? You’re questioning my right and claim to the powers.”
Tristan’s face reddened and he gripped the armrests. “My family has stood firm in our belief all these decades. We still believe that Arnou won the Pack in total as a result of the Great Fallout.”
“Wrong. Caedmon won.”
“By sheer numbers Caedmon scored in that aspect, but William II went down first. He fell first. Rodolphus succumbed weeks later.” Spittle flew from Tristan’s lips. “Rules are kill an Alpha and inherit everything he owns.”
The veins on Devin’s neck stretched taut as anger rumbled through him. “Rodolphus’s son forfeited all claims to anything when he broke off and started his own Pack. William’s son rose. That made it final.”
“No!” Tristan shot up out of his chair.
Devin’s canines dropped through his gums instantly, and he held his position. Only a couple feet separated them, but he felt their rage combining and fueling the animosity in the room.
“You’re a little tardy to the challenge, huh? Darius had more balls than you when I rose to Alpha five years ago.” Devin slowed his words to make sure his inquiry was clear. “What are you trying to accomplish this late in the game?”
Tristan growled between clenched teeth. “Step down with your tainted blood. It will only hurt our chances of existence in the future. You’re right. I let you reign all this time. Your people are crumbling around you as an inferior force threatens to destroy not only Caedmon, but also the Arnou. You are Alpha but I’m King. And until you prove your worth, you remain a pawn.”
The man’s assessment struck a chord in Devin’s soul, injecting him with doubt, but he wasn’t about to let it control him. “Who are you to talk about worth? Tristan Arnou—the man who killed his father and is now filling his position. Step down with your treacherous ways. These bad actions will only make you look like a cheat now and in the future.”
Tristan picked up the table and slung it against the wall. The chessboard cracked into two pieces and shattered across the floor.
Only a foot separated them. Heat engulfed them. Their Wolf Spirits whipped around them. Devin held his in check, but he wanted to shift and rip a hole in this bastard’s chest.
“Alpha!” One of his guards burst through the door. “We heard the—”
Tristan whipped up his palm toward the guard. “Get out!”
When the guard was out of sight, Devin said, “I’m not going to battle you over a game of chess. That’s not my style. I much rather duke it out on the battlefield. It’s in our nature to thirst for blood. Isn’t that what you said, Tristan?”
Since the start of their meeting, Devin was itching for the other wolf to say something—anything. Tristan Arnou was speechless. It was an odd reaction from Tristan after all the numerous sly remarks he dished out. Tristan wouldn’t even meet his gaze.
“Thanks for the dinner,” Devin said and then turned to leave. He glimpsed his gold king piece beside the door just as he was about to cross the threshold. “This meeting is over.”
“This is not over,” Tristan said, feigning calm serenity.
Devin picked up the king piece from the ground and sat it in the middle of the entryway table. “Pick yourself up off the ground. Think about your high aspirations.” He turned his head to see his opponent shaking. “Don’t send your Elites or your Enforcers behind me. Bring only yourself. This is a word-of-mouth invite. I won’t send a nice note via messenger asking for your attendance at a dinner. Think hard. If you want what I have and think you can stand up to me, I dare you to come and try to take it.”