Taming Her Wolf

gtÅ|Çz [xÜ jÉÄy Copyright © January 2012, Eve Langlais Cover art by Mina Carter © January 2012 Amira Press Charlotte, NC 28227 www.amirapress.com ISBN: 978-1-937394-25-7 No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Amira Press.

Taming Her Wolf

Eve Langlais

Chapter One Stupid. So fucking stupid. Yup, that pretty much summed up how he found himself chained like an animal in some blood sucker’s dungeon. And all because he’d gotten his heart broken. I am such a fucking pussy. Like a pup first dipping his paw in the puddle of love, he’d let his breakup with his girlfriend affect him more than it should have, drinking himself to the point of almost blacking out. Weaving his way home, his vision blurred while his Lycan blood worked at filtering the ridiculous amount of alcohol he’d imbibed. Shape-shifters like him tended to metabolize human drugs and liquor quickly, so getting drunk took effort. But once sloshed…a wolf became just as useless as a human. Slow reflexes, stunted senses, and the aforementioned great big dose of stupidity, led to him getting jumped by no less than eight vamps. Kind of flattering, actually, seeing as how there was just little ol’ him. He’d acquitted himself well, or so he thought. The drunken haze might have embellished his belief that he’d permanently taken out at least two, possibly three of his attackers. In the end, though, their sheer numbers overtook him, along with the half dozen syringes they jabbed him with. The bastards came prepared. Slumping to the ground, slurring invectives at his attackers, Gareth dropped into an unnatural slumber and had no idea what happened next. Although, judging by his current circumstances, it probably would have pissed him off. He woke in a foul mood, his hangover from the booze and drugs only a minor part of the reason. Hanging in a dank, stone block cell, arms manacled above his head, legs astride and also chained, with his clothes removed didn’t scream “Good morning.” The silver in the metal binding him burned his skin like a son of a bitch. But worse than all those things combined were the wounds covering his body, nasty bite marks just recently scabbed over. A visual smack in the face that told him some of the vamps had gorged themselves, using his body as a buffet. Nobody ate him and lived to tell. Well, unless they owned a pussy and a tight, suctioning mouth. But that was the only exception. Somehow, he doubted those feasting on him had followed his prerequisites. 1

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I’ll kill the fucking blood suckers when I get free. A great plan, except he didn’t know he’d accomplish the latter. His abductors knew their business, binding him with the one metal he couldn’t snap and that repressed his inner wolf. Speaking of his furry side, his groggy pal woke up and stretched in his mind, his inner Chewy not recovering as quickly as him from the overindulgence. Although, his wolf regained its senses quick when it noticed their dire situation. With a roar to make the pups in a pack piss themselves, his beast surged to the fore, straining at the silver that bound it. The metal’s inherent properties, though, kept him from breaking free. With a mournful howl, his wolf collapsed in a heap and whined. Gareth, his head already throbbing, couldn’t handle it. “Would you shut the fuck up already?” he growled aloud. “I’ve got enough problems to deal with without having to deal with a furry meltdown.” His beast growled. Gareth growled back. With a disdainful sniff, his furry friend lay its head down and pretended to sleep. Satisfied that his beast recognized who was in charge, for the moment at least, Gareth took stock of the situation. First, he strained his ears. Water dripping. Distant moaning. Skittering of rats. Damn, he hated rats. Dirty little creatures. Not hearing anything that helped him, not that he’d expected the sound of cavalry, he focussed on his actual body. In spite of his scabbing wounds, pounding head, and wounded ego, he seemed fine, if a touch hungry. And he had to piss like a bastard, a problem he could actually take care of. Whistling, he thrust his hips forward and aimed the steaming jet at the closed door, creating a puddle right in front of it. A petty pay back for whoever decided to pay him a visit. One issue solved, he then tugged at his manacles to see what kind of room he had to work with—not much. While he could lift himself on tiptoe, and slide his feet a few inches left or right, there wasn’t enough give in the chain for him to even try to pull free. The same bleak fact repeated itself with

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his arms. That didn’t stop him from trying. He grunted and pulled at his restraints. “Argh!” he yelled, his frustration mounting at the untenable situation. I’m a prisoner, and unless they get lax with me, that situation isn’t going to change anytime soon. Rescue by his pack brothers wasn’t even a faint glimmer of hope for him. He’d eschewed pack life and living under some asshole’s rules to live free. A little too dominant, Gareth found himself unable to bend to the will of another, but at the same time, he possessed no interest in challenging for leadership, not wanting the responsibility of the weak. So he left. He quite enjoyed his freedom outside the strictures of pack life. Loved the job where he got to keep the money he made. Strutted naked and scratched his balls through the apartment he didn’t have to share. And best of all, he found himself a girlfriend who liked to fuck and suck. Patty, his first steady girlfriend who didn’t require sharing with his pack brothers. In a Lycan pack, an unmated she-wolf slept with whomever she liked, or who had the strength to make her. Only mated females were off limits, and Gareth had no interest in settling down with a bitch yet. So, yes, he’d enjoyed his sweet, at times demanding, Patty. A blonde hottie who looked oh so good in heels and a short skirt. She’d told him she loved him, and he’d loved her back, or at least thought he had. Apparently, his concept of love and hers differed. She’d dumped him for another guy whom she claimed was “going places.” In other words, a prick with more money in his wallet. To his shame, he’d begged her to change her mind, something he wanted to kick himself for now. Talk about weak, especially since it wasn’t her he missed so much but the sense of normalcy he’d enjoyed with her. That and the girl could have sucked a golf ball through fifty feet of hose. Hoover had nothing on her. But now, because of her, he’d gotten screwed over again. He’d let his defenses down to wallow in a good, old-fashioned pity party that got him caught like the greenest of pups. Packs existed for a reason—so its members could protect each other. Within the strength of a pack, which always went out in groups at night, no vampire would have dared attack. The wrath of the 3

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Lycans would have come down on them for even thinking it. However, a lone wolf, incapacitated and smelling like a fine steak…completely different story. Growling, Gareth yanked once again at his chains, rattling them in a discordant melody that did absolutely nothing but frustrate him more. “Cowardly fucking bastards. Come and fight me like a man,” he bellowed. A fight to the death seemed preferable over the slow, lingering fade of strength and will that would come with the life the vampires probably had planned for him as a pet blood donor. It was what vamps did with their captives. They fed from their unlucky victims, gorging themselves on blood. A mortal body could only take so much of that kind of abuse before keeling over and forcing the vampire to seek a new source of fresh meat. Humans were especially fragile in that respect. It was why Lycans were so prized. A blood sucker could feed for longer periods of time off a shape-shifter’s extremely rich blood, and because of their recuperative abilities, they lasted much longer. Great, instead of a few months of acting like a walking buffet, I can look forward to years and years. He roared again while his inner wolf stayed silent, its rage only something felt not seen, the silver diminishing it. For the first time ever, Gareth felt truly alone, and the fingers of dread tried to grip him and then tried to bring along its friends, uncertainty and fear. Unacceptable. Thrashing from side to side, he strained and heaved at his chains, roaring like a mad beast, screaming invectives to beings that didn’t care. Hell, they didn’t even bother to come for a visit. He lost his mind for hours—or was it days?—during which he survived only on the water a servant—a second one after the first slipped in the puddle of piss and cracked his head on the hard stone—dribbled into his mouth, a fluid he dared not refuse lest he lack the strength to fight when the time came. But, despite it all, his vigor waned. And that’s when they started bringing the clients.

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Chapter Two Resisting an urge to slap Kevin as he led her down to the cell blocks took more control than it should have. But he just wouldn’t stop babbling, and Helen’s hand itched. “Lady Helen, it’s so nice to see you again. It’s been quite some time since your last purchase.” “Not all of us enjoy breaking in new pets on a weekly basis,” she replied dryly. However, the convenience of dinner at home versus the annoyance of going out made the training bearable. The sycophant babbled on. “You’ll find we have a nice selection available. Just your luck, we got a new batch only a few days ago. I believe you’re partial to males, correct?” Damned straight, they whined less than females. Although, they tended to have groping tendencies in the beginning. A broken finger or two tended to cure them of that bad habit quickly. “Yes, male only please. And no criers. I can’t abide listening to them, and nothing over forty. They tend to wear out too fast.” “Human, as usual, I assume? Or, if you don’t mind a short wait, I’ve got a lead on a lower level demon running amok in the city.” Her mouth curved into a moue of distaste. “Bitter blood, brimstone stench, and psychotic tendencies. Are you insane? Don’t forget, I remember what happened to Marcel.” An old acquaintance who decided to liven up his diet…and died. Not at the claws of his demon though. A vampire who fed from a denizen of the Pit didn’t need to fear his dinner but a visit from Lucifer, master of all demonkind. Now there was an entity she preferred to avoid, especially given how the slightly insane Lord Of Hell, loved opportunities to wreak havoc on earth—the bloody kind. “Ah, but the danger, isn’t that part of the fun?” Kevin’s wide eyes, the white globes almost bulging from their sockets, disgusted her, but it was the leer that made her snap. Unable to resist any longer, her hand flashed out and she grabbed Kevin by the throat. She slammed him into the wall high enough that his feet didn’t 5

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touch the floor. Perusing his pale face, his mouth working as he tried to struggle for breath, she grinned, showing off her pronounced canines, a sign of her age, an age greater than any of the clan in this area even guessed. “You tell me, little boy, are you having fun yet?” She shook him for emphasis, then dropped him. She wiped her hand on her jeans lest his idiocy prove contagious. “You will stop talking now while I find my own pet. You may follow behind but are to speak only when asked.” She didn’t bother checking to see if he agreed. Only morons crossed her, right before they died. Strutting down the stone corridor, she sighed at the theatrics of the place. Bare bulbs hung from the ceiling, cobwebs—not all of them real—hung in the corners, while moans filtered throughout. The sounds of misery at least were real. Kevin and his minions weren’t exactly gentle when it came to capture. The one credit she would give him, though, was once he secured the pets, they were treated well with no one allowed to feed on them lest they weaken the merchandise, making it unsuitable for purchase. Helen appreciated that, as the last thing she wanted was the stench of another lingering on her dinner. Having arrived at the holding area, she began to peek in the barred windows, looking for something to fill the gnawing hunger inside. Blonde girl with big blue eyes? Too much hassle. Latino boy with chocolate eyes? Yummy except for the track marks on his arm, which meant he was already tainted by human drugs. On and on she went, mentally discarding the offerings, nothing tempting her to take a closer look. Arriving at the end, she frowned and whirled, causing Kevin to stumble as he struggled not to crash into her. “That’s it? A bunch of club hoppers and drug addicts?” “It’s what the other vampires are demanding,” he answered. “Perverts.” She knew not everyone practiced her policy of not mixing food with pleasure. Actually, she skipped those kinds of pleasure entirely. Too messy and unnecessary in her mind. But others liked a little sex with their blood, the younger the better, or so she’d heard. And, these were just the types of humans that could disappear while barely causing a ripple with the authorities, especially after Kevin sent his cleanup crew in to remove all 6

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traces of them. A smart business man—if a creepy bastard—Kevin even created a false trail for anybody looking that indicated the ones he’d captured had left on some kind of cross country trek. “Perhaps you could tell me exactly what you seek. It might take me a week or two depending on your list, but we could procure something for you.” Helen drummed her fingers against the stone wall, her brow creased in thought. A pet tailored to suit her needs appealed, but she hungered now, and her only other current slave needed time to recover in between bouts or she’d be shopping for a pair. It seemed she’d have to go on the hunt. How irritating. “I’ll email you my requirements, but don’t you have anyone else I can use in the meantime? Something perhaps not yet on display as I find none of your current offerings tempting me?” “I do have one more being available, a—a Lycan.” Kevin hesitated, and she fixed a stern gaze on him. “Their blood, as you must know, is unusually potent, and they are so rare to come by.” “And they’re also the most likely to revolt and kill their masters when they do, that is if their pack doesn’t first. What a selling point,” she said, not even bothering to stem her sarcastic lilt. “I know you don’t care for their kind, and with good reason, milady, but he’s truly the finest specimen you’ve ever seen.” “If he’s so wonderful, why is he still for sale?” “Most prefer the easy route.” “He’s dangerous then?” “Very,” Kevin said unhappily. “Even chained, and starved, the bastard has managed to injure some of my clients.” A dinner with spirit. That made her tummy rumble. But still, Lycans weren’t a delicacy to be trifled with. “What of his pack? You know they don’t take kindly to having members snatched. I’m in no mood to deal with a home invasion of slobbery dogs looking to save their friend.” “No worries there. He’s a loner. My guess is he was too alpha to stay, but not enough to take over his pack. It took eight of my children to bring him down, and four didn’t survive.” 7

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Despite herself, Helen was impressed. Warriors were hard to find nowadays. “A high price to pay. Was he worth it?” “His blood is a bouquet like no other,” Kevin said kissing the tips of his fingers. “Then why not keep him for yourself?” The flesh seller blanched. “As mentioned, he is not exactly docile. I prefer my dinner not bite me back.” “So spell him. Surely a man your age has the power to control one little puppy.” Kevin snorted. “First off, he’s far from little, and second, I’ve tried, as have my other clients, to make him obey. He’s resisted us all.” “Goodness, that’s quite the dangerous pet you’ve acquired. Feed at your own peril. I am surprised you would even offer him to me. I thought you liked my business.” She teased him, but he didn’t grasp the subtle humor. “I would not offer him if I thought him too much for you to handle. It’s obvious it will take someone with excellent control to manage him.” She arched a brow in surprise. “My, my, flattery now, is it? It sounds like you’ve caught yourself quite the specimen and problem. But again, I ask, what makes you think he’d interest me or that I would succeed with him where you and so many others have failed?” For a moment, she and the slaver shared a look, one that told her Kevin saw more than she’d wanted, such as the fact she carried more strength in her than she let on. Over her long life, she discovered downplaying her strengths a much wiser course of action than flaunting them. Most only saw what she wanted them to see, but a few, like Kevin, who spent their lives observing others, saw beneath her façade. They usually died, keeping her secret intact. “I need to get rid of him, and you need something to eat while we locate you a new pet. It won’t hurt you to take a look. He’s chained in silver and harmless for the moment.” When she would have opened her mouth to argue, Kevin held up a hand and begged. “Please, Lady Helen. I just ask that you observe him.”

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Intrigued, despite herself, by the Lycan no one dared touch, she followed Kevin even as she knew she would never buy the dog. Too much trouble. A theory that tripled in estimation when the vampire slaver, with sweaty hands, unlocked a series of doors bound in silver until they reached one final portal with not only several locks, but also a bar across it as added protection. As he unlocked the many precautions before swinging the door open, she couldn’t help saying, “Scares you that much does he?” Kevin didn’t reply, however, a deep voice from the shadows of the cell did. “Untie me and find out why.” The lack of fear in the tone drew her and Helen stepped into the small room, stepping over the rancid puddle of piss. She blinked when Kevin hit a switch, lighting the place with an acrid glow. The prisoner, chained to a wall, hung his head at the sudden illumination, his eyes no doubt unused to the brilliance after days of captivity. Straggly hair, greasy and matted, covered his face. Dirt, old blood, and who knew what else, covered his body in a rancid mess. “He’s filthy,” she snapped, her nose wrinkling in disgust. “The servants refuse to go near him. He only allows the one bearing water to approach without harm.” “He’s bound hand and foot.” “Yes, and yet the injuries keep mounting.” Her lips pressed tight. While the smart thing to do involved pivoting on her heel and leaving the obvious troublemaker, apparently, hunger had rendered her stupid. Or desperate. “Do something.” “But—” “You were the one who wanted me to see the dog, but I am not going near him while he’s in that appalling state. Even a worthless wolf deserves better than this.” She fixed her gaze on Kevin, who sighed loudly before pulling a walkie-talkie from his belt. “Clean up in cell thirteen.” A staticky squawk answered him. “Now!” Kevin yelled.

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Low laughter, a rumbly sound that tickled over her senses, drifted from the prisoner. “What’s wrong, princess? Don’t you like my perfume? I call it eau of kiss my ass.” The shape-shifter taunted her, but she ignored him. She would wait until they’d washed the filth from him before she got any nearer. Then she’d show him not to goad his betters. Noise from the hall preceded a pair of strapping humans, lugging a hose between them that strung out behind them like a long, green snake. Stepping out of the room, she leaned on the wall across from the doorway and bit back a smile when the wolf roared at the first cold blast. The language he spewed proved quite colorful, and inventive. Although, he tended toward threats that involved shoving objects into out holes. A perversion of his? She hoped not. Old fashioned through and through, it was her belief that men should stick their objects in holes meant to receive them. Not that she intended to let the beast come that close to any of her orifices. But still, these were things she needed to know when purchasing a pet so that her meager staff weren’t perturbed—or buggared—in any way. She waited with a patience that came from hundreds of years of living while the servants, at a distance of several feet, hosed the prisoner and sluiced the waste down the drain in the floor. Why they’d not done so before, she attributed to Kevin’s paltry effort to break the Lycan. As if letting him stew in his own waste would mellow someone with his temper. A male like him is more likely to grow stronger and more vengeful the more abuse he’s subjected to. To earn his respect, someone would have to prove themselves stronger and unafraid. Despite herself, and her vow to live a chaos free life, the task of taming the beast appealed. Called to her love of challenge. Of course, she knew she’d win in the end. She always did, but how long had it been since something had piqued her interest? The sound of bellowing continued even after the servants retreated from the cell, coiling the green snake with them as they scurried back down the hall, trying to escape the deadly threats directed their way.

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The slaver slid into the cell. “Shut up,” Kevin hissed at his prisoner before he turned halfway to gesture her in. The Lycan’s reply to the admonishment landed on the slaver’s flesh and dribbled down his cheek. What good aim the dog has with his spit, she thought with a snicker. Pushing off the wall, she sauntered back into the cell, the rank smell of urine and filth gone, replaced with the damp smell of a mildewy cave. Cleaned of blood and dirt, the Lycan’s skin pimpled from the frigid water and cool air. And what nice skin he wore. Helen took a step closer, perusing the muscular frame of the male, thick if somewhat wasted from his captivity. His tanned body bore no scars or any signs of recent vampire feeding and considering he towered over her, which was no small feat given her six foot status, must have weighed a fair bit. Eyes of bright blue raised to meet her gaze and she admired the fire in their depths. He’d not yet given up. Foolish beast. Despite the clear challenge in his eyes, fascination, and even a small spurt of heat coiled inside her. It surprised her to realize she wanted the dog. “How much?” “Yours for only twenty thousand dollars.” A deal indeed considering her last pet cost almost twice that amount. “Why so cheap? He appears in perfect shape. Not too old either. So what’s wrong with him other than his temperament?” Kevin didn’t answer Helen. The object of her query did. “Nothing wrong except the weaklings he’s brought to see me don’t like it when I tell them what I’m going to do.” “And what will you do, puppy?” His jaw tightened at her intended insult, and his eyes blazed. “I will get free and when I do, I’m going to bathe in vampire blood. I will hunt you all down and rip your heads off one by one then suck on the marrow of your bones.” How delightful. He’d just tossed a gauntlet at her. She smiled and leaned forward until her lips were close enough to kiss and whispered, “You don’t scare me, puppy.” “I should.” And then the bastard head butted her. 11

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Recoiling, she slapped a hand to her throbbing forehead, vaguely listening to the rattling of chains and bellows of the beast. But the even more frantic cries of Kevin as he berated the creature bothered her more. “Silence!” she commanded. Her cold tone, injected with imperialism and power, cut through the noise, instantly halting it. Even the Lycan appeared surprised when his open mouth no longer emitted a sound. Approaching him again, she took her time eyeing him, taking stock of his frame from the top of his shaggy and darkly crowned head to his big bare feet. The only thing she skimmed over were his man parts. She had no use for them. In other words, though, she treated him like a piece of beef, and a sadistic sneer curved her lips at the fury in his eyes. “Those you’ve met before, my feisty Lycan, are as nothing compared to me. Someone needs to teach you to respect your betters. How to heel at the feet of your master. With winter approaching, I can’t think of a more fitting project to while the long, chilly nights away. By the time I am done with you, you’ll roll onto your back with your legs in the air, begging for more.” “Never.” Her brows arched as he managed to force that single word past her command of silence. What strength this beast held. She looked forward to breaking him—and feeding from him. A blood as strong as his would nourish and empower. Her mouth watered as she hungered for a taste. A snap of her fingers released Kevin and the dog from her spell. “I will take the puppy. But for ten thousand only. And I will still require a new slave. I will email you the requirements.” “Already sure of your failure,” taunted her new acquisition. Laughter finally brimmed and spilled forth. “I never fail. But variety is the spice of life. See you soon, my pet.” Turning on her heel, she strode past a smirking Kevin into the hall, waiting with barely concealed patience as he locked the door that didn’t quite muffle the stream of curses the Lycan unleashed. I need a muzzle. She made a mental note to purchase one her way home, along with a few other items to aid her in beginning the wolf’s obedience training. 12

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Pleasure at the upcoming task made her tingle. We’ll soon see whose bark is worse, because I already know my bite wins. **** Gareth let his cursing taper off, the futility of yelling only too clear, if liberating. The anger also served another purpose. Masking his interest in the cold-hearted vampiress who came to inspect him like a choice cut of beef. At first glance, she seemed innocuous enough, and his eyes slid right over her. Then he’d heard her husky voice and he riveted his gaze back only to stare in stunned disbelief. Tall for a female, probably close to six foot, but instead of sporting a model’s lanky lean frame, she bore curves, the type that reminded him of the museum visit his ex-girlfriend dragged him to. Some Renaissance affair or something where all the ladies featured creamy white skin, full hips, rounded bellies, and soft cleavage to drown a man in. Needless to say, Patty ended up stalking off pissed when he’d remarked on how attractive he found them. It took a lot of licking to earn her good graces back that day. But back to the blood sucker in the cell, a plentiful armful, with round cheeks and full lips, she seemed so gentle until she spoke, or he glanced into her severe brown eyes. Steel threaded her every word, layered in smooth silk with just a hint of mockery. The combination intrigued despite his situation. Then she’d shown her true colors, discussing him like he was just a dumb beast. She’d deserved the head butt he’d given her, and he’d certainly not felt any chagrin at all when she recoiled. Hell, his inner beast barked in approval. Of course, his small victory paled when she used her vamp powers on him, locking his jaw tight and freezing his tongue. The tales passed down among his kind claimed vampires could not use their powers on the more dominant Lycans. Gareth begged to differ. It took all his will, plus some, to push even a single word past his cursed lips. And then, if he’d followed the conversation right, the dark haired beauty—her strands sucked into a drab ponytail with loose jeans and an Angry Bird T-shirt—bought him for dirt cheap. Bitch. How dare she bargain for him? Gareth was worth more than the blood sucker’s entire stable of 13

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slaves put together. Pride blown to smithereens, he again lost his temper, not that they paid him any mind. Instead, he got treated to a view of her heartshaped ass as it walked out the door. Seriously. Talk about making him feel unimportant. All part of her plan, I bet, to break me. Well, he had news for her. He’d had bad asses try to break him before, starting with his father. If it hadn’t worked with that mean old bastard, then one sharp-toothed, tempting mouthful wasn’t going to succeed. I hope.

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Chapter Three Helen paced her home in a fit of restlessness, which surely had nothing to do with the imminent arrival of her new pet. She’d bought the uncouth creature to teach him a lesson and for the challenge of taming such a wild beast. Nothing else. Never mind her blood hadn’t coursed this fiercely through her veins in at least the last couple of hundred years. Ignore the fact her cheeks bore a pink flush and her eyes glistened in excitement. And, the heat in her body? Obviously a fault with her heating system because her interest in the Lycan resided in his ability to feed her. Blood specifically. Nothing else. Certainly not sex—even if he owned a tool for it. Dammit. It seemed despite her attempt to ignore that facet of his body, her traitorous mind still took note. But it’s bad form to fuck your dinner. Or at least it used to be in days gone by. Today’s vampires seemed to mix pleasure and feeding without qualm. Technically, there were no rules against it, but Helen came from a time when giving yourself to someone was supposed to mean something, and not just a quick scratch to solve a sexual itch. Perhaps, she could blame today’s lenient society with its excessive media push of all things sexual. Everything from food to clothing to entertainment drew on the intimacy between a man and a woman—and sometimes between men, ick—to sell to the masses. She’d thought herself immune. Judging by her inner musings and body’s reaction to the Lycan, perhaps not as much as she’d initially thought. However, Lycans as lovers are frowned upon. The rule against their consorting with them as anything other than a food source existed long before her turning. While she’d never found out the reason behind it, she assumed it had something to do with the fact Lycans were one of the few creatures that could take on a vampire, and in some cases, win. Even without the ancient law, the very idea of sleeping with a wolf was foolish at best, deadly at worst. The hatred between their kinds precluded any foolish notion of sexual intimacy. Even mesmerizing a beast into making it agreeable for sex ran its risk because should things become heated, it would become all too easy for the leash to slip, allowing inborn hatreds to flare, and kill. 15

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Not that I need to worry about that in any case. I have no intention of sleeping with my new pet. Or anyone else for that matter. The doorbell rang, and she clasped her hands as she rooted her feet to the floor lest she fly down the stairs to answer like an eager schoolgirl with a crush. Servants handled those tasks, not the ladies of the house. Still, she couldn’t help straining her exceptional hearing to follow the transition of her purchase from delivery people to her staff. She pretended to examine her nails as she listened to the thud of their steps as they carried her unconscious pet up to the room she’d prepared for him. Unlike Kevin, she did not resort to dungeons for her slaves. She’d always found smothering them with comfort so much more effective. Feigning disinterest, she turned as her staff entered the room, four humans bound to her by blood, hauling the dead weight of the shifter. Despite giving them her back, she could espy them via the reflection in the window, and noted her acquisition wore some loose canvas trousers and a Twlight T-shirt—how ironic—hiding his impressive frame from view. “Milady,” said Jesse in a soft voice. Her maid for the last hundred years, a benefit a vampire master or mistress could bestow upon their human servants, Jesse approached her on almost silent feet. “Did you wish something?” “About the male, did you wish us to bathe him?” Touch my pet? She almost snapped a vehement “No!” only to catch herself and wonder at her oddly possessive feeling. Quickly controlling herself, Helen turned a smile down at her maid. “He is not a child. He will bathe himself when he awakens.” “But he’s Lycan,” Jesse gasped. “Aren’t you going to chain him?” “How do you know he’s a shifter?” she asked, curious at her maid’s knowledge for it wasn’t something that humans could discern short of a person turning into a beast before their very eyes. “Those that delivered him warned us. They’ve drugged him, but they say he’s fighting it. They had to dose him again on the way over.” “Really?” Just as Helen spoke, a groan came from the bed, and her staff, who milled about staring at the huge specimen on the comforter, all took a 16

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few steps back. “Leave, my children. And do not return to this room until you are bidden.” Her servants, Jesse included, turned to leave, but a thought struck her. “Jesse, could you bring me a tray of food, no utensils or pottery. Bite-sized morsels, please, placed on napkins.” “Yes, mistress.” With a short bow, her servant scurried from the room, but not before throwing a hesitant look at the bed where another groan emerged. A part of Helen wanted to hover over her awakening pet. Have her face front and center when he first opened his eyes. But that smacked too much of eagerness. Besides, she wished to observe him and see how he reacted to his change in status. Seating herself in a straight back chair by the window, an antique piece with graceful curved legs and gold filigree etched upon the wooden frame and the russet cushion, she crossed her legs and waited, watching with the stillness of a predator. His transition from unconscious to awake happened suddenly. One moment, he lay prone, the next, he bounded up and stood on the bed, legs partially bent, hands fisted and his bright eyes scanning the area, the sign of a warrior, always alert and ready for action. She’d thought their breed dead, lost to a time when knights roamed the world in their clanking suits of metal, their swords strapped to bulging thighs. Of course, she’d taken a nap sometime after the crusades ended, bored of life in general and in need of respite. She woke in the early nineteen hundreds— because of a curious archaeologist who’d never learned to leave tombs sealed—to a world changed beyond recognition and expanded with the addition of countries over the previously insurmountable seas. But who cared about her past when she stared at the present in all its glory? Untamed and borderline feral, his gaze zeroed in on her, lasering her with its intensity. She smiled. “Good evening, my pet. Did you have a good nap?” He owned speed in spades, she’d give him that, but she was still faster. She moved from her spot before he landed, his larger frame and momentum crushing the antique chair.

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Tsking aloud, she leaned against the bedpost. “Really, must you destroy the furniture? I do so hate leaving the house to go shopping.” “Then try the Internet,” he growled. “Besides it was ugly.” She couldn’t help the snort of laughter. “Ugly, yes, but expensive.” “Then I did you a favor.” “I guess you did. Should I say thank you?” He shrugged, and she observed him closely for his next move. However, he stood still as stone. Despite his body’s rigid pose, she could see the gears in his mind turning as he examined the room and his options. She knew what he planned even before he pivoted. “Bulletproof, so unless you want to look like a cartoon character bouncing off its surface, I’d suggest leaving the window alone.” Angry eyes turned back to glare. “Think you’re so fucking smart, don’t you?” “Think?” She smiled. “I know I am. Now, be a good puppy and have a seat before you scare poor Jesse, who is being kind enough to bring you some food. You are hungry, are you not? You seem like a man of great appetite.” Her lips curved at her words, the double entendre slipping from and so unlike her. Yet, something about this male, this beast, drew something primal from her. She could no more help the comment than she could the heat coiling in her body, or the moisture pooling in her sex. A moisture she’d thought to never feel again. How disturbing that it chose to appear for her future supper, who stank worse than a wet dog even with his hose down of the day before. To her surprise, the Lycan seated himself in the chair he’d left intact, although his weight made it creak ominously. Mental note to self, I need to get sturdier furniture. With one eye on her pet, she sent her senses out, slipped ghostly fingers around the doorknob, and wrenched it open just as Jesse raised a hand to knock. Used to her mistress’s display of power, her maid didn’t flinch, simply picked the tray up from the sideboard in the hall and walked in.

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“Place it on the table by my pet,” she ordered softly, watching and expecting his next move. Jesse placed the tray on the table, then walked away unmolested. “Anything else, milady?” she asked, coming to a stop in front of her with her hands folded over her abdomen. “No, thank you, Jesse. See that we are not disturbed short of a mob brandishing torches and pitchforks.” With a tittering giggle, Jesse left and Helen stared at the beast…who ignored her. He ate, tossing bite-sized pieces of food into his mouth and masticating, not once looking her way. It vexed her. It intrigued her. It made her want to throw him to the ground, straddle him, and make him take note of her. But to do anything to draw his attention or even to speak first seemed a sign of weakness. A stalemate. How unexpected. And here she really wanted to know why he’d not attempted to use Jesse in a bid for freedom. Most idiots in his type of situation would have grabbed her and held her hostage, thinking to use a servant’s life in exchange for freedom. Helen didn’t value anyone that highly. Pride came before all. Besides, she had the skills to win in just about any situation. She’d actually looked forward to not only saving Jesse but also putting the dog in his place all without lifting a finger. Awing him with her mental capabilities. Scaring him with her might. And he’d ruined her plan. Something of her disgruntlement must have shown in her body or on her face, because he glanced at her briefly and snorted. “Something got your panties in a twist, princess?” “Do you really think you are in control?” she asked, not liking his seeming ease with the situation. He smiled as he leaned back, chewing slowly while his eyes perused her from head to toe, warming each spot his gaze lingered over until she almost blushed like an untried virgin. “I am your slave. Do with me what you will,” he replied mockingly. “Oh, I intend to.”

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“Then I hope you’re prepared to pay the price,” he warned, still regarding her with a lazy smile that taunted. Time to regain control of the situation and show him just who held the reins. She blew some power into her words. “Come to me.” A tic formed in his jaw as he tried to fight her command. His eyes narrowed, but still, his body jerked and he stood. “Bitch!” he snarled, but despite his hatred, he could not stop his feet from moving with shambling steps toward her. Reaching her, his body stiff as a steel girder, she let a smile of triumph curve her lips. “Good boy.” She patted his head and couldn’t help laughing at the fury in his glare. “You’ll pay for that,” he growled, his ability to speak not hampered by her command to come. “Threats? How delicious. You should know, my pet, I’ve eaten men bigger than you before.” “Funny, I didn’t take you for the cock sucking type.” She couldn’t help herself from slapping him at his crude words, words that did not bring to mind warm memories. “Oops. Sorry, princess. Did I offend you? Are you a beaver muncher instead of a dick one?” She clenched her teeth at his insolence. “I am not into women as you are implying. I just don’t approve of that kind of talk.” “You don’t like dirty talk?” His lips curved into a wicked grin. “What a shame, because I could think of so many things to tell you, like how I’d love to tear that shirt from you and suck on your nipples, maybe even bite them a bit. I’m a real tit man, you know.” “Stop it!” She couldn’t stop her mortified plea any more than she could help the molten heat that streaked through her body, sending a gush of moisture to her cleft. “Kneel.” She pushed the command at him, needing to regain some sense of control. Needing to prove to herself that she could handle the dominant male. He could not resist the compulsion in her tone, and dropped heavily to the floor. It brought his face level with her midriff. 20

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“Hmmm, smells better than expected down here, princess. Although, this kind of scenario usually works better if you’re naked first.” “Silence!” Cheeks blushing, a heat not felt since the first hundred years of her turning and discovered her sexuality, she stepped away from the wolf, needing some space to calm her body. An impossible feat given the way her blood surged, engorging her nipples and making her so aware of her body, her skin…her desire. Even with the space between them, she couldn’t stop the tingling, and she glared at him, a stare he returned with tight lips, not happy, obviously, that she’d stemmed his filthy tongue. She could read the fury in his blazing blue eyes. Dropping her gaze, because she found his anger just as arousing as his words, she let her glance stray lower, and lower, until she gasped. The front of his canvas pants tented, his erection obvious. And for me. How long since a man had desired her? The first hundred or so years of her turning, she’d spent with her lover and maker until she’d found the strength to escape. Then she’d wandered, angry and determined to never let anyone use her like he had again. She’d gone on a rampage actually until boredom eventually sent her to ground, to sleep as if dead. When she’d awoken after her long nap, she’d not once felt the sting of arousal, until now. Nor had she found herself the recipient of lust by either human males— unless they were under the thrall of her bite—or vampire ones, her great height and lush curves no longer considered the ideal, unlike the time she’d grown up. It never bothered her, or so she’d told—lied—to herself. A womanly pleasure suffused her at the knowledge this male, handsome and strong in his own right, desired her. I could have him. Despite the laws, she could take her pleasure with him, hiding her acts from outside eyes that would condemn her. Use his body to sate her newly awakened needs even as she took his blood to slake her thirst. And I’d probably die in the throes of an elusive orgasm as my leash over him slipped through inattention and he tore the head off my shoulders.

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Sanity reasserting itself, she debated her next move. Her slave still knelt on the floor, his glance turned away from her as if looking upon her pained him as much as her. “What is your name?” A need to know more about him made her ask. Released from her compulsion, she waited to see if he’d answer of his own volition. “Well, that depends. My daddy called me a bastard. My pack leader, a pain in his ass. And my ex-girlfriend a loser with not enough drive. Take your pick.” A frown creased her brow as his bitter words, and the vulnerability she sensed resonated. “What did your mother call you?” A flash of grief went through his eyes, so quick she almost missed it. “My name is Gareth.” He avoided her actual question with the truth. Oddly, it made her wonder what nickname his mother had for him that he refused to speak it. But she let it slide, for now. “Hello, Gareth. I am Helen. My staff call me milady. But given your more modern upbringing, ma’am or mistress will do.” “I’ll stick with princess.” He sneered as he said his nickname for her, but she smiled. “A title I’ve borne in my past, so it’s acceptable. Now, shall we discuss the rules of the house?” “Don’t bother. I don’t intend to stay long.” “Again with that cocky confidence. I assure you, my pet, that despite what you think or desire, you will not leave this house unless it is by my permission.” “Or your death,” he added, a wicked grin curving his lips. “You can try, but that brings me to rule number one. Attempts to kill me will result in punishment, of course.” “Beat me all you want. I’ll still try.” “Beat? Goodness, no. There are other ways to punish. More effective ways. Rule number two, hurt my staff and you will be punished.” “Why would I hurt them when I can use them to help me escape?”

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She laughed. “Oh, Gareth. You are such a refreshing delight. But just so you know, my staff are utterly devoted to me. Feel free to try, though. Just don’t hurt or molest them in any way as they are under my protection and I would not look kindly upon it.” “Yadda, yadda. Any other rules I can break, princess? Like no attempts to escape? No snacking on your friends?” “You can try to escape. I almost hope you succeed. I do so enjoy a good chase and it’s been a while since I’ve had some sport. As for eating my friends? I have none. So if you see another vampire in this house, then chomp away. You’d be doing me a favor.” “You are fucked.” He said this with a wondering tone that made her smile, albeit a touch sadly. Not many people could relate to her, the curse of her longevity. “Not fucked, but hungry. Would you prefer to remain kneeling or lying down?” The fierce glare, which had dissipated, returned full force. “Neither. I am not anybody’s lunch.” Shaking her head, she sauntered back to him, sinking onto her knees so they were face to face. “That’s where you are mistaken. All of humanity are animals, cattle to us vampires. Even a wolf like you. The sooner you learn your place, the better.” She grasped his hair, her will holding him in place despite the tremble in his muscles, which yearned to act. Tilting his head back, she exposed the long, tanned column of his neck. Despite her inner admonishment to not play with her food, she still leaned in close to inhale. She recoiled from him and wrinkled her face in disgust. “You stink.” “Gee thanks. And here I thought I smelled like roses after that hose down yesterday. Maybe next time you can get them to use a broom and some lye soap.” “You will take a shower.” “No.” “Disobeying?” She stood and let a cool smile cross her lips. “How futile. Stand and strip, my pet.”

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With jerky movements, he couldn’t help himself from obeying. He fairly tore his garments as he denuded himself. Averting her gaze lest the heat of before return, she nevertheless controlled the situation. Or so she thought. With a few words, he tore her fragile premise away. “Your turn. As you can see, I’m more than ready to go. So how do you prefer it? Bent over or missionary?” She almost looked at him, his query shocking—and exciting—her, but his mocking laughter helped to keep her gaze averted. “Cleanse yourself in the shower, through the door to your left.” Off he stomped and her eyes lifted without volition to peer at his taut buttocks. As if on cue, the arousal came coursing back. For the first time since she’d embarked on the challenge, she began to doubt the wisdom of her course. But trepidation—anticipation—or not, she couldn’t stop. I don’t want to. Because she wanted the wolf, and not just for lunch.

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Chapter Four Gareth didn’t try too hard to stop himself from taking a shower. Truthfully, he couldn’t stand his own stench either. A heightened sense of smell meant he suffered the most when he didn’t bathe. His super nose also meant he couldn’t avoid smelling the vampiress’s—Helen’s—desire. The honey scent made it so hard to retain his fury because it confirmed that despite her words and actions, she wanted him. And for more than just food. How would it feel, he wondered, as he stripped and soaped his body under the hot, needling spray, to have her naked in his lap, his cock buried in her sex while her teeth plunged into his flesh? A shudder went through him and his hand, scrubbing at his engorged cock, paused as the madness of his thoughts penetrated. No, no, and no. One, he wasn’t food, unless the person dining was in the mood for a mouthful of fresh cream. Two, attractive or not, he was not going to fuck some blood-sucking, sadistic vampire bitch. Never. No matter how hot he found her. No matter how good she smelled. And never mind the fact he couldn’t keep his cock flaccid around her. He refused to give the cunt any pleasure. Not even to escape? His mind questioned and he wondered how far he could go, just what he’d allow her to do to give him the opening he needed to flee—and kill. Judging by the throbbing of his shaft, one part of his body seemed prepared to do whatever it took despite his thoughts on the matter. As if I’d whore myself to get the upper hand. That train of thinking made him shake his head because the situation was not so dire that he needed to taint himself fucking a vampire just to escape. Of course, that did nothing to make his cock wither. Only one thing would cure his hard dick problem. Soap, water, a healthy imagination, and a strong hand. He didn’t need anything else, certainly not a wet pussy that possibly bore teeth. Fisting his hard prick, he pumped his length up and down, trying to picture Patty on her knees, her blond head bobbing and her full lips stretched wide around his girth. Instead, though, Helen’s image superimposed itself, 25

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and not on her knees sucking, but astride him, her big breasts bouncing as she rode him. His breathing quickened and he let his unexpected visual fantasy play out as he stroked faster and faster. He didn’t question how he could so easily picture his hated temporary owner riding him like a fierce cowgirl. Or how he longed to feel her nails scratch down his chest and her cheeks flush with passion as she drove him to culmination. With a bark of release, he shot his creamy load, the still flowing water sluicing it down the drain. Leaning his head against the cool tile, he let the spray wash over him, enjoying its cleansing feel. Even when it turned cold, he didn’t move, the briskness of it helping complete his relaxation process. A part of him never wanted to leave the glassed cubicle. Didn’t want to face the sexy Helen and her hungry mouths—the lush ones on her face, and the surely delicious ones between her thighs. Wanted to avoid her decadent and erotic perfume—an aroma stemming from arousal. He knew he had to fight her allure. Wanted to fight, but damn it all, much as it bruised his pride to admit, she was strong, strong enough to impose her will and worse, make him want her touch. Standing in a freezing shower, acting scared of a woman, stuck in his craw, though. It smacked of fear, and he feared nothing. She might munch on him today, but she’d never own him. When the opportunity arose, he’d kill her without a second thought, no matter what his cock wanted. Inside his head, his wolf agreed and pushed at Gareth, begging for a chance to get out and eat the woman. Soon, he promised his furry friend. Polar shower done, he turned off the taps then stepped from the stall, grabbing a towel from the hook on the wall as he did. As he rubbed himself dry, he craned to hear something from the other room. Only silence greeted him. He didn’t even hear the sound of her breathing. Yet another fact about vampires that the legends got wrong. Not only did they breathe, they never actually died. Their hearts beat, their blood flowed. It was other things about them that changed once the vampire virus took hold, their dentition and diet being the most notable, the mind control a less bandied about tidbit. He wondered what else the stories got wrong, because knowledge equalled 26

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power. The more facts he owned, the better his chances of escape—and revenge. Unable to delay the inevitable, without appearing like a giant pussy, he strode from the bathroom clad only in a towel. He’d mentally prepared himself to confront her, defy her some more. His wolf also stood at the ready, available with just a thought to burst through his skin and go on a rampage of violence. Instead of the confrontation he craved, he found himself alone. His shaggy beast whined in his head. No, he wasn’t disappointed he wouldn’t get a chance to make those cheeks of hers flush pink. He certainly didn’t care if he’d not gotten his chance to unbalance her with his almost naked body. The sinking sensation had to do with his loss of an opportunity to kill her vampiric ass—so plump and tempting. Even his wolf snorted at his attempt to fool himself. “Fuck her. I’m glad she’s gone,” he muttered even as her scent, still swirling around him, made his body react. But he had other things to focus on other than the fact his dick wanted to rise again. With her absent, he could now start looking for ways to escape her evil—yet strangely erotic— touch. He’d start by seeing just how solid the door was, but before he’d walked two feet, her voice, seemingly out of nowhere, whispered, “Bed time, my feisty pet. I shall see you tomorrow evening where I will begin training you in your duties. Sleep.” He made it only another step before he collapsed to the floor in a heap, his final fuzzy thought having to do with ways of stemming her from using that stupidly powerful voice of hers. I should gag her with my co— **** Helen stepped from the shadows and stared at Gareth, his big, naked frame slumped on the floor, snoring. She’d meant to feed from him as soon as he emerged clean from the shower. Oh, how she longed to taste him. But, she dared not do it while she hungered so badly lest he once again smell her desire. Or worse, she gave in to it.

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It didn’t matter what she wanted, or thought, she couldn’t help her lust for him. She’d tried to ignore him in the shower. Tried not to imagine his powerful body under the spray, naked and slick. When she slid into the bathroom, cloaked in her version of invisibility, she’d meant only to ensure he did not engage in mischief. He did all right, but not the harmful kind, unless she counted the blow to her equilibrium as she caught him touching himself. Actually, that sounded too tame. He didn’t just touch, he stroked himself, his powerful hand moving quickly up and down his shaft, a blurry motion she could only see through the fogged glass of the shower. She’d crept closer, unable to stop herself, too fascinated to look away. She’d peered into the stall, swallowing hard as she noted his balls pulled up tight, his cock, thick and long, jutting from his loins. And then, when he shot his cream, she wondered what ran through his mind, because bloody hell, he grunted her name. He thought of me while masturbating! Heat, liquid and hot, made her legs tremble and her sex clenched in on itself, hungry for the wolf. Appalled, and aroused, and so desperately confused, she fled the bathroom, trying to hide her panting lest her loud breathing be heard even over the sound of the shower. More than ever she doubted the decision that saw her bringing him home. However, she also couldn’t send him away. I should kill him. Yes, kill him before he disrupted her life any more than he had. Coward. What was wrong with her that she let one measly wolf with his superb body and acerbic tongue think he controlled the situation? Controls me. Never. I am stronger than him. This, after all, was a game of wits and determination. How could she have forgotten that? She’d chosen the wolf because he disturbed her and promised to make his training difficult. She would not give up. She would not let him win. And she would feed. Of course, when he strode from the bathroom, clad in only a towel, she didn’t reveal herself, hiding instead in the shadows she pulled around her from the room. He looked for her, but his gaze tracked right over her 28

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location without registering it. When he would have made for the door, she had a split second to decide whether to show herself or not. Do I tackle his moist, bare body before he gets any farther? Pin him under me and make him submit? Her feet began to move, an eager tingling sweeping through her at the thought of touching him. No! She put him to sleep. Not exactly her most auspicious beginning with a pet, but given her strong reaction to him, she needed time to bolster her shields and resolve. First, though, one little sip. A bite of the man who thought to defy her so that when he next woke, he would see the marks from her feeding and realize she was not to be trifled with. He’d understand that in spite of his wishes, or grandiose claims, she owned him and could do whatever she wanted. Plucking him from the floor, his weight as nothing to her vampire strength, she placed him on the bed, averting her eyes at his nudity. She covered his groin with the towel, yanking her hands away as if burned when she inadvertently touched his skin. He exuded heat and it took more willpower than she liked not to climb into bed with him and soak up that warmth. Hunger coursed through her, both the sexual and physical kind. Perhaps if she dealt with the latter, then the former would abate. But where to bite him? Unwilling to stretch out on top of him, intimately pressed, to suck at his neck, she instead lifted his arm, the pulse at his wrist calling to her. With the first delicious mouthful, she sank to her knees beside the bed, gulping at his life essence, lost in the pleasure of his blood. She’d never tasted anything more decadent and satisfying in her life. Sure, she’d tasted shape-shifters in the past, weak creatures that barely put up a fight. Nothing like this alpha male. Power flowed through her with each swallow until she fairly burst with it. One hunger sated, she reluctantly let him go, letting his arm fall limp on the mattress, the holes in his wrist leaking sluggishly. By the time he woke, only two faint red scars would probably remain, but he’d know, and it would anger him.

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She looked forward to bathing in his fury. Perhaps it would help combat her attraction. However, given how things had progress so far, she tended to think it would just make it worse.

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Chapter Five Gareth awoke suddenly, his eyes popping open to stare at an unfamiliar ceiling. But he knew exactly where he lay and who’d put him there. The bitch put me to sleep! Annoyed that he’d not only missed her presence in the room, but had succumbed so easily to her spell, he growled, a sound mimicked by his inner beast. Turned out he wasn’t alone. “Good evening, my pet.” Speaking of the devil… Sitting up, the blankets tumbling to his waist, he saw her sitting in a chair by the window, a new chair covered in black leather and much sturdier than the fancy ones of before. “Screw you.” “Goodness, you certainly are grumpy when you wake. And here I would have thought sleeping almost fourteen hours would have sweetened your disposition.” He ignored her in favor of taking care of some more pressing needs such as his pissing hard-on. He quite enjoyed the way her head immediately swiveled when he flung the covers back and stalked naked to the bathroom to relieve himself. Door wide open, seat down, he peed while standing, the loud splash of urine hitting toilet water loud. He grinned when he heard her exhalation of disgust. Giving his prick a shake, he did end up washing his hands, though, because some things he just couldn’t handle, not even to needle her. Quite pleased with himself, he whistled a discordant tune as he strolled back out. She still stared out the window, ignoring him. Not liking that, he moved so he stood reflected in the glass pane in all his naked glory. She popped out of that chair quicker than a jack in the box. “You are trying my patience,” she growled, her low, husky voice sending shivers dancing up his spine. Shivers of dislike, he reminded himself as he glared at his slowly rising cock. Inside his head, his wolf growled, scratching at the edges of his mind, looking for a way out. But Gareth had no intention

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of letting his beast out with its hot temper. Helen required careful handling, and he knew just the hands to do it. “Screw trying your patience, princess, why don’t I just try you?” He expected her to pull another of her indignant virgin routines. Instead, her chuckle slithered over him, warm and silky, leaving a tingle where it touched. “Funny you should say that, because I had a taste of you last night and you were delicious.” “What?” He dashed back to the bathroom and peered at himself in the mirror, craning to better see his neck. He raised a hand to move his long hair when he saw them, two red spots on his wrist. “You fucking bitch.” He stormed back out to the bedroom. “You ate me!” And not in a good way. Or had she? If he weren’t so pissed, and suddenly aroused, he would have paused to check his dick. “I prefer the term drank, but yes, I did feed from you.” She turned to face him, keeping her gaze on his face, her amused brown eyes not once straying below his chin. “I am not food!” he yelled, hating the fact he sounded like a child having a tantrum. But dammit, how could he fight her off if she fed from him while he slept? It smacked of cowardice on her part. “I dare you to try while I’m awake.” “Don’t worry, my pet. Next time I feed from you, you’ll be totally aware of the pleasure of my bite. Which leads me to today’s lesson. I shall show you how I like to feed, and how you are expected to comport yourself when I do.” “You won’t be feeding from me,” he snarled. “Not today. I’ve found it best over the years to rotate between a pair, or even a threesome of blood slaves. It gives them more time to recuperate and, in turn, makes them last longer.” “Got it down to a science, do you?” he said with a sneer. “Such attitude. You should count yourself lucky I own you instead of another. Not all of my kind are so generous about their pet’s wellbeing.” “You don’t own me, and you won’t be feeding from me. I’ll kill you first.” A sentiment his wolf approved of. 32

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“Goodness, I didn’t take you for such a liar,” she said with a tsking sound. “You and I both know you can’t stop me.” “I can try.” “And fail. But it doesn’t have to be a battle, my pet. You’ll see. My blood slaves enjoy their position.” “Never.” He said it, but oddly enough, didn’t believe it. “Again with the lying,” she said with a sigh. “I look forward to proving you wrong. Now, sit.” “I’m not a dog.” Okay, maybe he was partially canine, but still, he refused to let her order him around as if he were one. “Sit.” Fuck, he hated it when she did that. Like a puppet on strings, he dropped to the ground, and she sighed again. “Oh bloody hell, in the chair. Sit in the chair.” He actually grinned at her annoyance even as he got up and moved to sit in the chair she’d vacated, the leather cool on his bare ass. “Catch.” She tossed a pillow at him, and he caught it as ordered. He then tossed it away. She glared at him. He relaxed and spread his legs a little, exposing himself in all his glory. Red spots appeared in her cheeks and she stomped her feet, bare feet, he idly noticed with pretty little toes painted purple. The blanket she dropped in his lap covered him and before he could yank it off, she growled. “Do not remove it. Do not move from this chair. Actually, don’t speak either.” And thus did he turn into a living, breathing statue. But that was okay, because her actions made it easier to focus his anger. Made it easier to hate her. Now if only that message would make it to his cock, which seemed to like their verbal sparring way too much. Pleased with herself, she smirked as she stood back and regarded him. “So much better. I do think I like you better when you’re not speaking. Now, as I was saying before, today we begin your lessons in becoming my blood donor. First, though, you need to eat. There’s food on the table. I wouldn’t want you too weak from hunger.”

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He managed to arch a brow at her, his voice and body still frozen by her command. She had the grace to look sheepish. She didn’t say or do anything, but the invisible bonds that bound him slipped free. He checked out the selection on the tray. The irony of the red hunk of steak and the dark green leafy vegetables didn’t escape him. It seemed she made sure her slaves got their daily dose of iron, a blood builder. It occurred to him to protest by not eating, but seriously. Steak? No sane, red-blooded male ever turned down bloody, rare perfection. Besides, his rumbling tummy didn’t care who provided the food. He ate, not to please her, but for himself because he needed strength to escape. She didn’t sit as he ate. Instead, she paced and seemed determined to ruin his meal. “Why aren’t you part of a pack?” Chewing, he regarded her as he decided whether to answer. “Who says I’m not?” “Kevin would have never touched you if he thought some group of slavering dogs would come after him.” He shrugged. “I left when I discovered I wasn’t into the whole group thing.” “Is it true that Lycans in a pack share everything, even women?” “Why do you care? Looking for a threesome, doggy style?” He leered at her, and was rewarded with a blush of epic proportions. “Of course not. I just wondered how that worked. I would have thought jealousy and possessive natures would make that type of lifestyle unfeasible.” “It’s not the best scenario, which is why there’s lots of fighting. But if you’re strong, it’s okay.” “And yet you left?” Popping another piece of steak into his mouth, he used the mastication time to watch her with hooded eyes. A part of him wondered at the wisdom of giving her so much information, and without any torture to force it. However, most of it was common knowledge if a person looked deep enough, and besides, by answering some of her questions, perhaps she’d reveal some of her secrets. “Pack life is pretty fucking chaotic. And that’s at 34

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the best of times. Only the strongest get to keep things, whether it’s money, stuff, or women. Could I have stayed and scrapped my way to the top until I owned the best of everything? Sure, but I didn’t want to. The higher up in the pack you are, the more you might get to call your own, but with that, whether you want it or not, comes responsibility for the weaker members. Not to mention, the more prestigious the position, the harder you have to fight to keep it.” “It doesn’t sound that different from the vampire clans,” she remarked. “Except, ours is a more subtle battle of wills instead of brawling.” “So do you lead the clan?” Her brows arched and she laughed. “Goodness, no. I leave that backstabbing position to others who crave the power. I have no use for petty politics. It’s why I’ve never made children. Too much work.” “So it’s just you and your human staff in this great big house?” Good to know.” As if sensing she’d said too much, her lips clamped tight and she turned away. He took that time to drink down the glass of milk, and the one of juice on the tray while perusing the room. Okay, he lied. The room got a cursory glance. Her heart-shaped ass on the other hand… Damn, talk about perfection. His mind memorized it for use later when it was just him, his lusty cock and his hand. “Done eating?” She turned around and caught him staring. Already hard from his mental musings, he could resist saying, “Depends on if you’re taking your pants off or not?” He licked his lips after he said it. He knew it would drive her wild, but it was so worth it, even when she placed him under that spell of silence and immobility again. His wolf shook its head with disgust in his mind, not understanding why he’d goaded her and restricted their freedom. Maybe because I’m enjoying myself. Strange, given the circumstances, yet true. Even with Patty, he’d never enjoyed such a frank conversation, always having to hide his inner self. Then again, when he and Patty got together, it wasn’t for talking unless lip locking or grunting counted.

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“Now that your hunger is appeased, time for me to eat. Charles.” She turned her head as she called someone and a moment later, another male entered the room. Gareth’s wolf instantly began to growl, but Gareth’s lips didn’t peel back from his teeth until the blond, thirty-something male sent a dirty look his way. That glare smoothed into a smiling mask before he turned to face Helen. “Mistress. I am here.” “Charles, I need to feed and at the same time show my newest slave how he should behave when his turn arrives.” She was going to make him watch as she ate another guy? For some reason, this pissed him off instead of making him happy that he wasn’t on the evening dinner menu. “How would you like me, mistress?” The pathetic human sounded eager to sacrifice himself, the brainwashed bastard. “Kneel for me, Charles.” “As my mistress wishes.” Her blond Ken doll dropped to his knees and placed his hands on his thighs. Charles tilted his head to the side, and while Helen could not see her puppet’s face, Gareth could with its mile-wide smirk. Dude acted like he’d won some kind of prize over Gareth. “Idiot.” He managed to squeeze the word past her compulsion to shut up, and quite enjoyed the glare Charles threw his way. Then he didn’t care about Charles as he found himself riveted by the sight of Helen, kneeling behind her boy toy. She spoke as her mouth hovered over the exposed skin, her eyes meeting Gareth’s. “I feed from two areas, the neck or the wrist. It tends to unfortunately make the donor sexually excited, but there is no touching allowed. The first time, you get a warning. The second, I break something. I also expect absolute silence when I feed.” With those bits of advice, she chomped down. Not a twinge of pain crossed Charles’s face. On the contrary, a look of utter bliss made his eyes flutter, his mouth go slack, and Gareth had to restrain a growl at the evidence of the growing bulge in his groin. What did he care if she brought her little pet sheep pleasure? He certainly had no 36

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intention of meekly getting to his knees and letting her feed from him, her lips sucking at his neck, her body pressed against… A rumbling growl made him vibrate, and it caught Helen’s attention. Their eyes locked and he watched her cheeks hollow as she suctioned. Gareth grew hard. Actually, worse than hard, he throbbed painfully as he couldn’t help imagining that same mouth sucking on him, wrapped around his cock. He wanted to wipe that cool, disinterested look from her visage and replace it with one of a woman in the throes of pleasure. He wanted to see her with flushed cheeks and eyelids heavy with passion. He wanted her. With a roar of disbelief, need, and intense arousal all rolled into one, he stood from the chair, pushing past the invisible bands that bound him. But still, she sucked at Charles’s neck, her bored look morphing into one of challenge, and oh yes, interest. As if slogging through a sea of molasses, he forced one foot in front of the other, her compulsion to stay fighting him every step of the way. When he stood only a few feet away, she finally released her slave’s neck, her lithe pink tongue lapping at the holes she’d left behind, slowing the sluggish flow of blood. Gareth’s nostril’s flared, the coppery scent of blood exciting his wolf. She pushed at her pet, who still in a state of bemusement, moaned in protest. “Leave, Charles. I think my new pet wants to talk.” She smirked at Gareth, and he snarled. Stumbling to his feet, the blond boy toy weaved his way to the door, but before he left, he shot an accusatory glare at Gareth, blaming him for the interruption of what Charles obviously thought of as a good time. Helen’s voice distracted him, and brought his attention back to her. She observed him with a cool smile. “My goodness, I never expected you to be so eager to have a turn. Did the sight of me with Charles excite you so much?” She thought he’d liked it? His cock twitched, and he resisted an urge to slap the traitorous appendage. “Try disgusted. Perhaps you enjoy little sycophants like your blond Ken doll kneeling and panting for your touch, but not all of us are so easy.” 37

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“I don’t actually care if my pets enjoy themselves or not. I allow the pleasure because a docile dinner is more to my liking than a crying one. But, I can just as easily make it a painful experience.” “You are sick,” he spat. “No, just trying to stay alive, like you. Tell me, do you chastise your wolf when you let it free and it kills something?” “That’s different.” “How?” “I only kill animals.” “Really? And here I thought you a warrior.” “Don’t misunderstand. I’ve killed humans before, and vampires, but never for food. I don’t eat my own kind. Only animals.” She arched a brow at him and her lips curved into a smile. “But humans are animals to vampires.” “Doesn’t that bother you? You were once human too.” For a moment, a veil of sadness dropped over her visage, and he took a half step, his arms itching to pull her into him. Just as quickly as he imagined it, the expression and urge passed. “I haven’t been a fragile human in a long, long time, my pet. Any qualms I might have had with what I need to do to survive have faded. While I might look as I once did, inside, I am a whole different person. Just as you and your wolf are not entirely part of the human race.” “That’s where you’re wrong. I still think of myself as human, just a bit hairier.” “Is that so? Then why don’t you tell the world what you are?” His lips tightened. “You know I can’t do that.” “Why? Because your precious humans would kill you for being different?” “The packs would hunt me and you know it.” “Ah, but who would get you first? The human hunters with their silver bullets, or your brothers with their claws? And you think to mock what my kind do for survival when your own brethren are just as vicious.”

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It annoyed him that he didn’t own a retort for her logic. To deny the brutal laws of the packs was to lie. But neither could he concede her methods were acceptable. As if reading his mind, she murmured, “Stalemate. It seems we shall have to agree to disagree on this matter.” She began to walk toward the door, her vulnerable back to him, and his wolf whispered, Kill her now! But instead of lunging, he asked, “How did you become a vampire?” Her steps halted. She pivoted to regard him. “Why would you want to know?” Why did he? He shrugged. “Curiosity.” “I thought that trait was reserved for cats.” “Mind not comparing me to those overgrown hairballs?” “You mean the tales of shape-shifting cats are true?” “Yeah, but you’re changing the subject. You were going to tell me how you became an evil, blood-sucking vampire.” “Evil?” Her lips quirked. “You haven’t yet met true evil. I have, and trust me, I am an angel compared to him. You still want the story of my rebirth? Very well. Here is the condensed version. I was on the way to my betrothed when my carriage was waylaid.” “What year?” “A lady never divulges her age. Now did you wish to hear my tale or not?” He didn’t answer, just crossed his arms over his bare chest, which brought her eyes to it. She stared for a moment before almost forcibly tearing her gaze away. “As I said, my caravan was attacked, everyone killed, except for me. A vampire and his coven of four others took me, intending to use me to feed them both sex and blood.” “They raped you?” For some reason, that made his hackles rise. “No. But only because their leader took a shine to me. He decided instead to turn me and keep me as his companion, his bride of the night, as he liked to call me.” “So he took you by force?” 39

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“Surprisingly, no. He made it his mission to beguile me until I came to him willingly.” “Stockholm syndrome.” “Not entirely. He was the first male to actually woo me. He bought me things to please me, complimented me, and turned me into a woman. But most of all, he taught me how stand up for myself against others. You see, in order to rule by his side, I needed to know how to wield power and not let those beneath me think they could have their way.” “Sounds like a wonderful guy. Why did you ever break up?” The expression stony aptly described her face. “That is not part of the story.” “Fine. They didn’t kill you but made you one of them. And some vampire dude turned you into his slut. What happened next?” “We killed. We ate and we fucked until we parted ways. End of story.” Her crude ending emerged on a note of bitterness. Gareth wanted to know more, but her face blank, her motions rigid, she turned to leave again. “Did you like it?” He waited for her reply, waited to hear how she’d fought and hated her existence, how it took her years to adjust, how she’d hated the monster she became. Instead… “From the first drop of blood to hit my tongue, I loved it. Loved the power I gained, the fear I could engender, and the glorious rush that comes from a feeding. I am a vampire,” she said, turning her head to face him over her shoulder, her dark eyes flashing. “And proud of it.” Then she left, her words hanging in the air and for some reason, he respected them. He knew some Lycans who lamented their state of being and wished they’d been borne to other parents, human parents. Gareth gloried in his dual state. Loved the benefits of his Lycan blood and while he still didn’t like vampires or their diet, he could at least respect the fact she didn’t moan about her fate. But he did hate how she controlled him, especially when her whispered, “Go to your bed and sleep” sent him crashing to the mattress in a state of snoring oblivion.

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Chapter Six Unbidden, memories of her past came to sweep Helen, bringing her back to a time when she’d thought monsters existed only in fairytales. The carriage jostled as it sped toward the next destination, another unclean and smoky inn nestled within the confines of a town. Night had already fallen and they were hours late, a broken wheel having stalled their journey until a replacement could be found. She didn’t care, though. At the end of her long journey awaited her betrothed, a dirty old man with pinching fingers. How she hated Father for prizing land and gold more than her feelings. After his announcement of her upcoming nuptials, she begged and cried for days for him to at least choose someone closer to her age. He patted her on the head and told her to go stitch something. And when she would not obey like a good daughter, he took his hand and belt to her backside until, with a voice hoarse from screaming, she finally promised to go. She was not entirely sure he trusted her docile acceptance, as well he shouldn’t. She planned her escape every free moment she stole. However, she’d not counted on him sending so many of his knights with her on the journey. They surrounded her carriage in a dark ring of armor and swords that she couldn’t hope to penetrate. Even at the inns, they stood guard at her door and outside the window, as if she could grow wings and fly away. I wish. Her chaperone, old and fat Mary, preached to her night and day, hollow words of obeying her father and future husband. Of doing her duty. What a load of drivel. Surely God never meant for her to just spread her thighs and endure the rapaciousness of men. Did she not merit more out of life? If only she owned strength, or an ability to melt with the shadows, she would have escaped her father’s clutches and chosen her own destiny, a future where she held the reins of control. What a foolish dream. The whinnying of a horse in pain pulled her from her contemplation. Yells quickly followed and she was flung about the inside of the carriage as suddenly, her vehicle made haste. The screams and clash of steel let her know that they were under attack. Fear filled her, but at the same time, she found herself finally grateful for the men protecting her. All the women of the castle had heard tales of bandits and their raping ways. Even a lecherous old man was preferable to a violent end.

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As her carriage fled the scene of combat, the strident sounds of her defense faded until all she could hear was the thump of horse hooves and the creak of wood as the wheels of her carriage spun, hurtling them to safety. How foolish I am to think I can escape so easily. The impact as the cabin hit something immovable rammed her into a wall face first before dumping her on the floor in a heap of skirts, stunned. Through the ringing in her ears and the throbbing of her cheek, she heard her nursemaid blubbering, praying to God, as if he cared about the fate of two women. The door was ripped open and she could only watch in open-mouthed disbelief as fat Mary was yanked, shrieking, from the interior. Her cries were disturbing, but not as much as the lack of them when they were abruptly cut off. She huddled on the floor, trying to stem her hyperventilating breath, but she could not halt the whimper as fingers, the nails crusted in dirt, clasped the edge of the door frame and a figure vaulted in. She screamed. How could she not in the face of the evil grinning wickedly down at her? “Well, lookee what we have here. Kristof will be most pleased with you.” Before she could ask who Kristof was, she found herself yanked out of the carriage straight into a nightmare. Shaking her head free of the memories she’d thought long buried, Helen went about the tasks required to keep a special household like hers running. But even as she worked, recollections of her past fought against her fantasies of the present, rendering her frazzled. Kristof and his band of evil yet merry men were easy to push aside. She’d had centuries of practice at that. Her new pet, less so. What was it about the wolf that made her head spin in circles? What did she care that he thought her a monster? The dog was a pet. A yummy one that made her drool when she even thought of sinking her teeth into him again. Drinking from Charles, his blood filling but so bland, made the contrast all too clear. And not just when it came to taste. Charles didn’t make her pulse quicken or her sex moisten. Gareth though… Just the thought of him made her want to forget responsibility, forget the laws, and take what he so brazenly taunted her with. Madness, but it didn’t stop her from imagining it. Wanting it. Denying it.

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Allowing herself to feel for him wasn’t an option, and she feared if she gave in to her arousal, she’d end up caring for him. And that would get them both killed. Eating wolves was allowed. Fucking them, not really, but under the right and most secretive of circumstances, probably doable. However, treating them as an equal and a lover? Some things just weren’t done, although she’d never understood the restriction. A vampire could take a human as consort even if they never fully changed them. But a Lycan? The last pair she’d heard of, existing before her own birth, had been hunted and killed. Something about it being unnatural, which made no sense, especially given how strong Lycan blood was to her kind. But why was she even thinking in terms of lover and consort? She intended to tame the wolf, and feed from him. As for sex, maybe she’d indulge when she’d gotten him under her control. She trusted her staff to keep her secrets. Although, she had the feeling once he cowed to her will, she’d lose interest. Only one other male had ever attracted her—even as he frightened her—a male with as much dominant spirit as Gareth. Once she got rid of that alpha tendency in Gareth, she’d break the spell, or so she assumed. Now, if only she could find his weakness. **** Gareth woke and blinked at the ceiling, more rested than he ever remembered being. One advantage to her command-induced sleep, he guessed. Usually, he slept with one eye open, his Lycan nature always expecting an attack. Within the pack, the males constantly jostled for position, while outside, there were dangers in living as a lone wolf. Rested, while good for him, made him more dangerous to the vampire bitch holding him. Speaking of whom, had she munched on him while he slept again? He peered at both his wrists, his thighs and, yes, even his dick. Not a mark marred his skin. “Find what you were looking for?” she said dryly, her presence not surprising him in the least Although, he would like to know how she kept 43

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appearing and disappearing into seemingly thin air. He blamed his wolf for not paying more attention. “I was making sure that your maid Jesse didn’t leave any hickeys. She’s a wild one,” he lied. Helen’s face tightened and her fingers drummed on the armrest of the chair that cradled her. “Jesse doesn’t play with my pets.” “If you say so. I’d better shower before you find out otherwise,” he taunted, swinging his legs out of the bed. Helen peered up at the ceiling, but her fingers tapped faster, showing her nonchalant act was just that, an act. Whistling, he sauntered into the bathroom and took care of business, with the door open, of course. He took his time too. Peeing, brushing his teeth, shaving his scruffy beard with the electric razor he found, and taking an overly long shower. He even jerked off, making sure to yell Jesse’s name just to antagonize the bitch. When he turned the water off, he shook like a wet dog before grabbing a towel. Then he dallied a little longer, putting on some deodorant and spraying himself with some Axe, even though he knew his wolf hated the perfumed scent. Wrapped in a towel, because apparently despite Helen’s blushing nature, clothing was an option he’d not yet earned, he sauntered out into the room, hating how he automatically looked for his captor. At first glance, he thought her gone, but no, his inner beast knew better, urging him to peer at the bed where she lay curled on the covers, seemingly vulnerable. He’d underestimated her too many times already in the past few days. He’d not do it again, but he would take great pleasure in driving her nuts. Whipping his towel off, he padded on almost silent feet, the plush carpet masking the sound. As he moved toward the bed, he twirled his towel. Her eyes popped open just as he lashed the fabric out, slapping her with the edge of it, a sting he knew all too well from the locker rooms of his youth. “Ow!” She rolled off the bed and glared at him, one hand absently rubbing her hip. For some reason, it made her adorably cute. He squashed the very thought. Blood sucking killers weren’t cute. Although, furry ones

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with big fangs like himself were. And no, he saw no problem with that distinction. Her brown eyes narrowed as she caught sight of his nude body and a blush lit her cheeks. She averted her gaze and mumbled, “Put something on.” Funny how she’d had no problem inspecting his naked body when he hung in the cell. What made seeing him in all his glory in her home, at her mercy, any different? Other than the fact he smelled good and there was a bed nearby? Hmmm. Could it be that she found him distracting and not in an I-want-to-suck-your blood way? Did Ms. I-am-in-control want a spin on his dick? Her scent seemed to say so. This he could have fun with. “Why should I cover up? Something wrong with my body?” His query drew a quick glance from her and he puffed out his chest as he planted his hands on his hips, thrusting his groin out. His motion made his dick swing and she pointedly looked away again, her cheeks even redder than before. “I have no interest in seeing your naked man parts. Hide them.” “You didn’t seem to have an issue when you were checking me over in that dungeon, hanging like a side of beef.” “That was different. I needed to make sure you were healthy.” He coughed. “Ack. I think I caught something. Maybe you should give me another look over. You know, give me a doctor exam and squeeze my balls. Or you could swab my dick with your tongue. I’m not picky.” “You’re disgusting.” Her words conveyed the right tone, but her blushing face and that all too familiar scent screamed arousal. “And I’m tired of you flaunting yourself. Dress before I make you.” Deciding he’d taunted her enough, and disturbed that once again his cock seemed to find the conversation a tad too interesting, he decided to comply but on his terms. “I’ll dress, but I am not putting the filthy garments I arrived in back on my body.” “Not those. Jesse took those and tossed them in the trash. I procured you some new items, which you’ve ignored for the past few days.” Helen waved her hand to a pile sitting in the chest at the foot of the bed.

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“Maybe if you let me stay awake and upright for more than five minutes at a time, I might have noticed them,” he retorted as he strolled over for a peek. Satin pajama bottoms and a matching top of navy blue. He ignored the shirt and slipped on the silky pants. “Better?” He couldn’t help the humor at the incongruousness of a vampire who blushed at the sight of a naked man. He didn’t want to, he fought the feeling, but dammit it all, it made her more human. She turned to peek at him. “There’s a shirt too,” she said a little too pointedly, her arms crossed under a pair of tits that would really look better naked, although her T-shirt did strain nicely over them, outlining her pebbled nipples. Is it drafty in here or is someone happy to see me? He couldn’t stop his wolfish grin any more than he could keep his dick down like a good soldier. “I’ll pass on the shirt. I prefer to wear as little clothes as possible. We Lycans tend to have higher core temperatures than other beings. I’d be happy to prove it to you. I have a thermometer that loves getting shoved into tight places.” She glared at him. He smiled wider. Who would have thought antagonizing a vampire would prove so much fun? Enough fun that he couldn’t stop. What else could he do to drive her absolutely mental? He sat on the edge of the bed and patted his thighs. “Someone ready to come and sit on my lap? I’m all nice and clean for you to chomp on now.” She ignored him. He couldn’t help goading her some more. “Here little vampie, vampie, vampie. Dinner time.” He called her like he would a pet and craned his neck, his mirth surely reflected in his face. She didn’t like it one bit, but even as her eyes shot lasers at him, her lips twitched. “So eager, my pet?” “I’m always eager, princess. Was I wrong about the neck? If you want something with a bit of meat, and a creamy finish, then I’ve got something else you can munch on.” To throw fuel on the fire, he grabbed his cock through his pants, which fuck him, was hard as a steel pole despite his shower jerkoff. “What! No. That is—” Desire warred with confusion and anger on her face. Annoyance won. “Hands to your sides. Then don’t move.” 46

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Still grinning, he didn’t fight her command. Why bother when he knew it wouldn’t work? He didn’t particularly want to feed her, but this was one instance he didn’t figure he’d win. Sure, he could have tried to fight the inevitable, but why waste his energy? Besides, he’d caught on to her plan. Unlike that of the slaver’s, Helen’s goal seemed to center around disarming him with kindness and by not doing what he expected. Well, two could play that game. And his suddenly agreeable stance had nothing to do with the fact he’d really not liked watching her suck on another man. I am not jealous. Curious, yes, though. Much as he disliked the idea of feeding anyone, he considered allowing her to eat as part of his knowledge collecting process. The more facts he knew, the better he could disarm and kill her. His wolf snorted. Okay, so he lied a little bit. He wanted to see if her sucking on a part of his body could possibly feel as good as that prick Charles made it appear. Then he’d kill her. Hands planted on the mattress and leaning back slightly did nothing to hide his erection. She gnawed her lips—lips he knew a better use for—as she eyed him. With slow steps, she moved to stand in front of him. The delectable scent of her arousal wafted up to greet him and he closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply. Something about her drew him on a primal level and he was damned if he knew why. Reminders that she was his enemy battered against his body’s urge to meld with hers. Dislike that she would use him to feed warred against his need to feed himself from her honeyed sex. Slender fingers slipped through his hair to grip him, and Helen tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck. What a shame she didn’t take me up on my offer to have some sausage. Despite his own inner humor, he did feel a pang of disappointment. The bed depressed slightly as she knelt with one knee on it. Her other leg was still braced on the floor but nestled between his thighs. Warm breath tickled his skin as she leaned in close, and this near, he could hear the rapid flutter of her heart. A shiver went through him when the tip of her wet tongue traced a line down his throat. The anticipation just about killed him,

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but he bided his time, letting her think she controlled the situation, acting as relaxed as possible. Wet and wide, her mouth settled on his neck, the sharp edges of her incisors grazing his skin. He couldn’t help the convulsive swallow as he waited for the pain—and the pleasure. The pinch arrived as she sank her teeth in, but then pure bliss followed. Holy fuck! A groan escaped him. Having someone suck on him, drain him of his life’s blood, shouldn’t have felt this good. Shouldn’t have made his already throbbing cock almost explode. It did and more. Small happy sighs escaped her as she sucked at him, her body undulating in time to her swallows, her actions the complete opposite of her cold control with her blond pet, Charles. Despite her order to stay still, Gareth forced a hand up and curled it around her waist. Intent on her objective, she didn’t stop. He meant to use her inattention to snap her neck. She’d done exactly as he’d hoped and counted on. Instead of ending the blood sucker’s reign of terror, he drew her body down onto his leg so she straddled him and her covered cleft pressed against his thigh. Bloody freakin’ hell, even through the layers of fabric separating them, the heat of her core burned him. He needed, make that hungered, for more. He rocked her hips on him, frictioning her sex, which in turn, made her thigh between his legs press against his own hard cock. Thoughts of vengeance disappeared. How could they compete with the moans vibrating from her chest, or the intense suction of her mouth, or the heat of her cunt? His hand slid inside the waist band of her pants at the small of her back. His coarse fingers touched her silky skin and he pushed them into her jeans as far as he could until he could cup and knead one full globe. No longer frozen, her preoccupation with pleasure freeing him from his stasis, his other hand came up and he positioned her until she straddled him properly, her sex against his aching shaft. Her motions quickened, her sex grinding against him. Hands palming her ass cheeks, he pumped up against her, not stopping even when she stopped sucking at his neck and buried her 48

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face in his shoulder. Her whole body trembled, and a light sheen of sweat coated them both as he continued to thrust against her. A sudden gasp escaped her and her body went rigid, letting him know she’d climaxed, but still he rubbed, grunting himself as he approached his own peak, a peak that would feel so much better skin to skin. He twisted and landed atop her on the bed, his hips still pumping between her legs while his hands scrabbled at her clothes. “No!” Her cry came suddenly and barely registered through the roaring sound of his own rushing blood. However, even he couldn’t ignore flying through the air to hit a wall, his reciprocal pleasure denied. The sharp sound of the slamming door echoed before he’d even lifted his head and opened his eyes. She left. Not actually hurt by his impromptu flight, he got up and flopped back on the bed with a sigh. Fuck and double fuck. He didn’t know what pissed him off more—his wasted opportunity to take out Helen, his captor, or the fact she’d fled before he came. Women can be so fucking selfish, he thought as for the second time that day, he finished himself by hand.

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Chapter Seven Helen paced her room, the speed of her trek almost wearing a groove in her plush carpet. What just happened? I was supposed to be in control. And she’d thought she was despite the way her jaw almost hit the floor when she saw him naked and still damp from the shower. At her age, she’d seen her fair share of naked men, but none, not even Kristof, had ever affected her like Gareth did. And she didn’t like it. She’d thought herself safe when he put his pants on, but her new pet threw her for a loop when he treated her like a common doxie, patting his lap and cooing to her. She guessed he’d meant to make her lower her guard. And damn him to hell, he succeeded. She just didn’t understand why he didn’t take advantage of it, killing her while she intoxicated herself on his blood and electrifying touch. Her second taste of him, rich and more potent than anything she’d ever imbibed, made her finally realize why some of her kind chose to mix pleasure with food. For the first time in centuries, she succumbed to the whims of her body, letting him manhandle her until she veritably rode him, the hard nudge of his rod against her core enough to bring her to orgasm, and with all her clothes on! And yet…despite her climax—a rare achievement for her who was oft labelled cold—she still wanted more. She wanted to return and tear his clothes from him. Impale herself on his flesh. Or even better, let him take her with some of the savagery she could see promised in his eyes. Eyes that smoldered with a hungry passion that made her feel beautiful. Sexy. It was not often she came across a man who so blatantly treated her like a woman. The fact she could break him in half didn’t seem to bother him. And even more disturbing, Gareth, unlike anyone she’d previously mesmerized, kept breaking free of her mental hold. It made him so dangerous. And attractive. Don’t forget so utterly wrong.

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How had one male, just a step above humanity, not even close to being her equal, forbidden by their kind to be anything more than food or sport, managed to break through hundreds of years of deadness? She’d not felt such a turmoil of emotions since her time with Kristof, her maker and betrayer, first and only lover. She’d thought herself incapable of emotion, or desire, after the debacle that saw her fleeing, then killing her way through her anger and hurt. Even waking after her long slumber to a world she no longer recognized gave rise to nothing more than a mild interest. The thing that excited her the most in recent years was the advent of mindless yet addictive games like Angry Birds and World of Warcraft. Nothing, though, compared to the rush of simply being in Gareth’s presence. No, I mustn’t think of him as a person with a name. He’s a slave, food, nothing more. Unless she allowed it. Nothing but her own morals, a few paltry laws she didn’t care about—and fear, forged in a world long dead—kept her from taking him as a lover. From enjoying both his blood and his body. But he hates me and wants to kill me. Yet, despite his fury, she saw—I feel— his lust. He didn’t need to like her to fuck her. How crude, but she dared not think of it as making love. She couldn’t love an animal. Ever. She could, however, take care of her bodily needs—needs she’d never felt this strongly before—and then send him on his way. Come to a deal of sorts with the beast that saw them both getting what they wanted, then parting before she did something foolish. As if what I’m contemplating isn’t the biggest madness of all. A long time ago, she’d made the mistake of lowering her guard and letting her inexperience rule her mind—and heart. She’d paid the price. How could she forget? Stumbling to the ground, she could not look up for fear of facing her death. Cowardly, but she clung desperately to the hope that somehow, she would survive. Raucous laughter surrounded her, and her hands were wet, the warm puddle beneath them not making sense to her frightened mind. In the harsh moonlight, she peered frantically from side to side and noticed the bodies. With a gasp of horror, she recoiled from the sightless eyes, raising her hand as if to protect herself only to see it covered in blood. An unearthly keening sound surrounded her, but she did not realize it was her making the noise until a voice murmured, “Silence.” 51

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Compelled to obey, her lips clamped shut, but her eyes widened as he stood before her, his tall shadow blocking the feeble moonlight and casting his features in darkness. But even then, she could tell he was powerfully built with the broad shoulders of a knight. He crouched before her and he tilted her chin up, capturing her gaze with his. She was sucked into the dark void of his eyes, spellbound by the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. “Hello, little dove. My name is Kristof. Sorry to have frightened you, but I’ve been searching a long time for a beauty like you. A noble lady to call my own.” “But I am promised to another,” she whispered, mesmerized by the silky sound of his voice and even more enchanted by his words. “Then I shall fight him to the death if need be because now that we have met, I shan’t let you go. Come with me, little dove. Come and I shall make you more powerful than you’ve ever imagined.” A spell wove around her at his words, and hope blossomed. She let him pull her to her feet, entranced to the point that she did nothing when he swept her into his arms and carried her away. And then they were flying, or so it seemed. So quickly did he move, the scenery was but a blur around them. Not that she cared about her surroundings, or even their destination, for he held her in his arms, the slow, steady beat of his heart proving his humanity. How wrong she was, and yet in that moment, she doubted she would have believed had someone told her the opposite. In her naivety, she thought God had heard her prayers and sent a golden-haired knight to her rescue. Kristof brought them to a castle, a ramshackle structure that smelled of age, dust, and things she preferred not to dwell upon. Dim light made shadows dance upon the wall while a fire burned in the hearth, the snapping and crackling of the logs the only sound other than their breathing. Set on her feet, she swayed, but he was there to steady her, his hands firm on her hips, an intimate gesture usually reserved for couples, or the castle harlots. The smile he bestowed upon her in the wavering candlelight of the space made her tremble. It occurred to her that she was alone with a stranger, but staring into his face, his dimpled jaw, sensual lips and mesmerizing green eyes, she felt no urge to flee. Cupping her face, his thumbs stroked her cheeks and she leaned her head into his embrace, the tingles of trepidation somehow also pleasurable. Firm lips brushed her and her breath caught as she experienced her first kiss. Eighteen winters, almost an old maid, and innocent. She knew not what to do, but he seemed not to care as he slanted his mouth over hers, parting her lips and inhaling her very 52

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breath. A wicked heat suffused her, making her limbs tremble, and an odd sensation invaded her lower stomach. A part of her panicked and screamed that she needed to stop. To flee. Another part of her was eager for more, hungry for the bliss he seemed determined to show her. Perhaps he was the savior she had been hoping for. My very own knight come to rescue me from a life of misery. She didn’t really care. She just didn’t want him to stop. His lips slid from her to caress her cheek, her jaw. He angled her neck and placed his mouth on her skin, an open mouth kiss that tickled as he dragged his tongue over the area. A soft cry escaped her when he bit down and she thrashed at the unexpected action and pain. He gripped her tightly in his arms, unwilling to let her flee, and it was only moments before she stopped her struggle to escape and moved to get closer to him. Heat washed through her along with more of the unknown pleasure. She was in such a blissful place as he sucked at her skin that she did not protest when they fell back upon a mattress made of hay with only a woolen blanket to cover it. His heavy body rested atop hers, but she enjoyed it and liked as well the hand that cupped her breast, an overly large bosom that was tightly bound in its prison of cloth. As if sensing her discomfort, he ripped the bindings from her, freeing her breasts. She knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that she should protest or at the very least cover herself. Modesty demanded it. However, she could do nothing but moan, caught in an erotic spell that she didn’t understand but left her wanting more and more. His hand, smooth and so unlike the rougher grips of a knight or serf, kneaded her fleshy globe, creating even more interesting sensations. But her breast did not hold his attention for long and soon, her skirts were being pulled up, exposing her legs and sex, not that he paused in his sucking of her neck to look. She tensed when she felt a molten knob of flesh poking at her. Am I ready to give myself to him? To let him take my— How foolish to think she owned a choice. He tore through her maiden barrier and she screamed finally at his brutal rending of her cleft. He ignored her fists pounding at his back as he thrust, his hard pummeling matching the erratic racing of her heart. Her energetic fight waned quickly as she found herself gasping for breath, dark spots appearing before her eyes, eyes that were drooping as lethargy seeped over her. What is happening? Am I dying? In a brief moment of lucidity, she realized that all was not normal or right with Kristof’s bedding of her. Why was she letting a stranger touch her so intimately, and why oh why was he sucking the very life from her body? 53

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He threw his head back to shout, his body thrusting into her, savage, hard strokes that would have frightened her if she could find the will to care. Darkness slipped over her as she fought the battle to stay aware. Was this how she died? A foolish girl who fell for the first pretty face that complimented her? An inexperienced maiden who believed in a male’s pretended rescue when he only meant harm? She felt herself floating, and opened her eyes to see herself rising. Panicked, she looked around and saw herself laying on the pallet still, flat on her back with her hair spread around her, a corpse. Kristof’s body, fully clothed in his haste, was between her thighs, still pumping until with a final mighty heave, he stopped. And chuckled. Still disembodied, she ascended, her spirit fleeing the unholy desecration of her body. And yet, she couldn’t help but watch, frozen by the macabre scene, not understanding why her killer tore open his own wrist. He held the dripping limb over her parted lips, whispering, “Drink, little dove. Drink and be my queen, for eternity.” Helen shook her head, clamping her eyes tight against the past. She hated remembering her first time, that painful experience that started out so pleasurably—so foolishly. She hated even more remembering Kristof, a male she’d both loved and hated. At his hands, she learned pleasure, but she also discovered pain. Young, foolish and in love, she’d allowed it. Thought it normal, especially among her kind. Her conflicting experience at Kristof’s hands was the reason she avoided other men when she fled. The bliss was just not worth the agony both of the body and heart. And yet, Gareth hadn’t hurt her. But he also didn’t take his pleasure. She knew her experience with Kristof was not the norm, however, that didn’t stop her from fearing it would happen again, that she would let herself become so lost in someone that she’d let him do anything, even hurt her. I am in control this time, though. I have the power to stop him if I truly wish. Kill him if he harms me. Haven’t I hidden in fear for long enough? Is it not time I experienced someone else and learned if all men are the same? The idea of striking a bargain floated to the surface of her mind again. She had the opportunity to broaden her sexual horizons. Discover what others seemed to put so much stock in. This time, she could call the shots,

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and if she didn’t like the results, she could do something about it. I’ll kill him if he thinks to injure me. As the sun tickled the horizon, and the metal blinds dropped down over the windows, sealing her in a tomb of darkness, she went to bed, still undecided as to how or whether she would broach the matter with the wolf on the morrow. If she survived the day that was because she’d finally decided to test the wolf. **** Gareth, awake for once after Helen’s departure, jumped from the bed when the whirring noise started. He only relaxed as he saw the rigid shutters drop down over the window, sealing him in darkness. Talk about a reminder that he resided in the home of a vampire. Thinking of her made him wonder if she slept in a coffin, or a bed—naked or wearing some filmy piece of lingerie. What a shame the door wouldn’t budge, or he’d have gone looking. As if thinking were a key, the snicks of tumbling locks preceded the door swinging open. Odd thing, though, no one stood outside. An automated system that she’d forgotten about perhaps? More like he’d frazzled her enough she’d neglected to put him to bed as seemed her habit. He didn’t know or care. Freedom beckoned. Still dressed in the ridiculous satin pants, bare-chested and barefoot, he snuck out of the room, his steps making not a sound on the thickly carpeted floors. Wall sconces lit the hallway in a dim light and as he traversed its length, he peeked into gaping doorways, seeing bedrooms and even a living room replete with a big screen television. But no signs of life. Not a sound came to his ears except for the distant ticking of a clock and the soft hum of the air exchanger. Hitting the stairs at the end of the corridor, he took the steps two at a time until he landed on the cold marble floor of the vestibule. A towering wood door, carved with panels and flanked by shuttered side panel windows, loomed. Tugging at the handle did nothing, and he noted the lack of a deadbolt, or lock of any kind. More automated systems?

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It made sense, he supposed, if a vampire was concerned by security to ensure absolute control over exits and entrances into the home. But, what happened in the case of a fire or other emergency? Or did Helen release her servants during the day? With nothing better to do as each avenue of escape, one after another, failed to release him, he went on a hunt for other people. He discovered about a dozen separate scents, but no living, breathing bodies. Even more disturbing, most of the scent trails ended at a cement block wall in the basement. A hidden lair? He almost banged his forehead off the wall as he suddenly imagined his vampire captor in a revealing Batgirl costume. I am one sick fucking puppy, he thought as he headed back upstairs to keep searching. Despite the home he found himself in, he didn’t find any dead bodies, not even in the freezer. Although, he did locate a plate of food in the fridge, a note taped to the clear plastic saying his name and instructing him to nuke the whole thing for about two and a half minutes. So she meant for me to explore. How fucking strange. Weird didn’t stop him from eating. He warmed up the food and as he chewed the still juicy roast beef, downed the fluffy mashed potatoes, and the bursting with flavor peas, he wondered why a vampire who didn’t ingest food employed a chef with obvious skill. If he couldn’t escape, at least he wouldn’t starve—although if every meal proved as yummy and rich, he’d end up fat. A Hansel to the witch of the house. Speaking of whom, where did the tall and voluptuous blood sucker sleep? He’d explored every room in the house. Sniffed every corner. Almost pissed in a few—his wolf did so like to mark its territory. He’d yanked drawers. Moved furniture. Rolled up rugs. Yet, not a sign had he discovered of the woman who thought to own him. The one he wanted to own right back. Did she also hide behind that seemingly impenetrable wall in the basement? Did she sleep in a satin lined coffin? Inquiring wolves wanted to know. It confused him that she’d allowed him free rein of her home. Hell, she’d even left the butcher knives in the kitchen, and she owned an appalling amount of spindly chairs, any of them fodder for the making of some stakes. Not that he’d resort to paltry tools or weapons to kill her. When he did end her evil regime, he’d do it the old fashioned way, with his bare hands and 56

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teeth. He’d just not decided if he’d fuck her first to get her out of his system because he really, really needed to sink his cock into her. Jerking off didn’t solve his hard dick problem, although thinking of Patty did seem to shrink it somewhat. But as soon as he caught a whiff of his vampiress, or even thought of her, schwing, up went his cock, a beacon looking for some pussy. His wolf was not impressed. It sulked in his mind, pissed he’d not killed the woman when they had a chance and even more peeved that he’d enjoyed her munch and grind. Just remembering the pleasure made it hard to hold on to his objective of kill the vampire and escape. If he were honest—something he wasn’t sure he approved of—he’d admit that she’d never actually hurt him, unless leaving him horny and blue-balled counted. The bitch. Hours passed as he explored. He ate some more. Showered. Snacked again, his body ravenous after all his forced incarceration and rest. When his fifth round of the mansion did not reveal anything he’d not already seen, he decided to hit the gym he’d located on the lower level. If he couldn’t work out his frustration through sex or killing things, then hitting the weights was the next best thing. She would, of course, appear while he bench pressed a barbell with three times his body weight. “Evening, my pet,” she said, her voice coming out of the blue from behind him, startling him so that he lost his grip on the bar. He didn’t end up with a crushed rib cage as she plucked the plummeting weights as if they were a toy. It made him feel like a sweaty idiot. “Well if it isn’t sleeping fucking beauty,” he snarled, annoyed at the way she’d snuck up on him. Some wolf you are, he taunted his inner beast, who hung its head in shame. “Someone’s cranky,” she retorted as she placed the barbell down and moved around him into the middle of the room. She wore a yoga outfit comprised of snug Lycra pants cropped at the knees, a plain black body suit and her hair in another ponytail.

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I wonder what she looks like with her hair down. I bet it’s just the right length to pull while I pound into her from behind. He ground the heels of his hands into his eyes as he tried to dispel the sudden and erotic image from his mind. When that didn’t work, he thought of Patty with her skinny ass. His arousal withered. Opening his eyes, he bit back a sigh as it came back full force at the sight of Helen balancing on one leg, the other stretched in a straight line above her head, some weird yoga pose he’d seen before but would never try because it looked bloody painful. But practical if she got naked. Needing distraction from wondering just how flexible she was, he headed to the punching bag. His wolf whined, not happy that he’d not already attacked his captor. Gareth ignored it. All things in good time. When she didn’t say a word as she exercised, Gareth finally caved and spoke first. “I’m surprised you let me roam your house. Weren’t you afraid I’d break your stuff or escape?” “Everything is replaceable. And I already told you, if you escape, I will hunt you down. You will leave when I say you can leave.” “Let’s say you actually do eventually let me leave. What makes you think I won’t come back?” She stumbled, her gracefulness suddenly compromised. “Why would you do that?” He shrugged. “Revenge does come to mind.” “Ah yes. Because you are soooo injured,” she said with exaggeration. “You fed from me.” “And you enjoyed it. At least I didn’t bugger you like some others would have if they’d bought you.” “I’d have killed them,” he growled. “And you’re one to talk, riding me like some cowgirl.” Ah, there was that pink flush he was looking for, the one that said something, he just wasn’t sure what. Did it mean she liked him? Wanted him? Yearned to ride him again? Riding is good. Actually, anything that involved his cock in her pussy went under the really good category. “Sometimes when the blood is particularly potent, it can cause some, uh…” She struggled to find the words.

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So he supplied some crude ones. “Just say it, princess. It makes you horny. No shame in that. I already told you, I’m more than happy to give it to you.” Right now would work according to his cock as it tried to burrow through the fabric of his pants. “I don’t like to mix food with sex.” “So eat someone else. Problem solved.” He grinned widely at her. “Or, I could eat you and let another solve my desires.” Okay, that idea didn’t make him happy at all. And it wasn’t the part about feeding on him that pissed him off the most. “I’m not dinner.” “Funny, you made a great meal last night,” she replied, licking her lips then smiling wickedly, showing off her fangs. “You just think that because you wouldn’t let me show you what I do best. Come on princess, what do you say? Let me fuck you and show you that I make a better lover than a steak.” “Or we could do both?” she suggested. “Wait, didn’t you just say you don’t mix food and sex?” “Not usually. My sex drive is not what one would call high. Actually, it’s pretty much nonexistent. For some reason, though, my body seems to like yours.” She hung her head as she touched her toes. The reluctant admission made him puff out his chest. Oh yeah, his blood sucking princess had the hots for him. “So get naked and I’ll give it to you.” She tilted her head and rolled her eyes at him. “How enticing.” “What? You expecting flowers and poetry? Sorry, princess. I’m a prisoner here. You want romance, you’ll need to go somewhere else.” “I don’t need romance, but I would like to make a deal.” “A deal? What are you thinking? And what’s in it for me?” The pink he’d come to enjoy colored her cheeks. “I feed off you, and um, partake of your flesh,” she said, looking at a point above his head. “And in return?” “Once my new blood slave arrives, I let you go.” “Let me get this straight. I let you suck a few pints, make you scream in orgasm, and you’ll just let me go?” Ha, like she’d want to let him leave once 59

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she got a taste of his cock. He’d fuck her until she couldn’t remember her own name, never mind thinking she’d be able to let him walk away. She’d never want him to go once he was done with her. Wait a second. He still wanted to leave, right? “It shouldn’t be for more than a week or so. Just long enough for Kevin’s minions to locate and acquire a suitable blood slave. You’ll have free rein of the house during that time. Food, clothing, entertainment—” “Entertainment, huh? You going to pole dance for me? Maybe get up on a table and do strip tease.” She ignored him, but the blush kept deepening on her face, and she stared at the ceiling as if her own bargain embarrassed her. “Are we agreed?” “What, aren’t you first going to make me promise not to kill you or exact my revenge after you let me go?” “You can’t kill me. Although, you can try if you want.” Wait a second, did she just challenge me? Yup, according to his growling wolf, she had. In that case… “I accept all your terms, princess. Now prepare to die.” He dove at her, missed as she sidestepped, and hit the mat. Tucking his body, he rolled and sprang back up only to stagger back as she hit him, her foot sweeping under his leg and dumping him back down, flat on his back. She followed him to the floor, pinning her arm across his throat. His knees came up under her and he pushed, sending her flying. Holy fucking Matrix. She cartwheeled through the air, landing on one outstretched hand and springing to an upright position. “Nice,” he complimented. “Thanks,” she said with a smile. Then she came back at him. And fuck him, if he wasn’t enjoying himself. Only way he could have had more fun was if they both got naked. Hmm, on second thought. Ri-i-i-p.

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Chapter Eight How did I lose control of the situation again? Helen wondered as her rush and tussle at the wolf saw her suddenly baring a breast as he tore the seam of her shoulder strap. Instead of killing him for his temerity, she panted in excitement. Great, I’m a captor turned flushing maiden. Where did I go wrong? Oh wait, she knew that answer. She’d gone looking for her pet as soon as she’d woken, determined to not let him frazzle her. Decided to keep him for food only despite the urges she’d suffered the night before. A good day’s rest and all would return to normal with her icy shield of indifference repaired. Yeah, that wall tumbled at the first sight of him. Actually, it melted into a little puddle and ended up in her cleft. When he defied her, it only made her hotter so she ended up offering him the bargain she’d foolishly thought up the night before despite her misgivings. And he accepted just before he tried to kill her. Well, not so much kill her as play with her. She noted how he always made sure he landed on the bottom when they hit the floor despite the fact she could handle more abuse than him. She saw how he kept his claws in, and didn’t try to snap any of her body parts. She most especially couldn’t miss, though, the hard bulge that kept rubbing against her when their clash brought them together. Then he upped the ante, removing her clothing by means of rips and tears that soon had her breasts exposed and displayed her pebbled nipples. She almost crossed her arms over her chest to hide them, but he grabbed her when he saw what she meant to do, and even though she could have broken his hold, she let him hold her wrists apart, mesmerized by the ardent look in his eyes. “Fuck me, princess. Those are beautiful.” “They’re too big.” In her human days, her mother used to lament the fact her overly tall daughter had such a bountiful bosom that ever strained the seams of her gowns. “Nah, they’re perfect.” He drew her closer, his head lowering, and she closed her eyes as she waited for his touch. Her breath held, her muscles clenched, every nerve ending aware and waiting for—

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Oh my. At the first stroke of his tongue across her straining bud, she shivered. Again, he licked her, swirling his tongue around the tip, making her pant with want. But instead of sucking her nipple into his mouth, he teased her, blowing on the wet skin, drawing another shudder from her. When he did finally latch on, she couldn’t help crying out, her body swaying toward his. This was by no means the first time she’d had her breasts played with, but in the past, she’d endured it out of mistaken love and not true interest. Well, it might have taken her a few hundred years and an uncouth dog of a man, but for the first time, she regarded her breasts as more than annoying lumps that got in the way. Who knew having them caressed could actually feel so good? And make her yearn for more? He released her wrists to wrap his arms around her, holding her up so that he could arch her back, presenting her bosom to him. His hot mouth tugged at her breast, shooting jolts of pleasure down to her cleft. Swept up in the passion he evoked, she could only clutch at the muscles of his arms as she let him caress her, the vague knowledge that he could at any moment bite or harm her only adding more excitement to the mix. When he released her taut nub, she let out a moan of protest, a sound he caught with his mouth as he kissed her. Oh my, did he kiss her. He devoured her mouth as if he’d never tasted something so succulent, sucking on her lower lip, slipping his tongue into her mouth to tangle with hers. Their breathing meshed as intimately as their mouths, a fiery passion exploding between them and… A throat cleared. “Um, sorry to intrude, milady, but you have visitors.” With a spat curse, Gareth moved lightning quick and shoved Helen, whose lips tingled, behind him. “Ever hear of knocking?” he snarled. “Milady?” Her maid’s query emerged timid in the face of Gareth’s bristling anger. A little frustrated herself, Helen sighed and bit back her own urge to bark. “It’s all right, Jesse. Tell them I shall be along in a moment. I must change from my gym clothes first.” “Very well, milady. I will put them in the yellow parlor.”

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She heard the rustle of Jesse leaving and Gareth relaxed his tense pose. Had he thought she needed protecting? Surely not. No time to wonder as more pressing matters called her attention and despite what her body thought, putting out the fire in her cleft did not have top priority at the moment. Helen looked at her ruined top and wondered if she could make it to her room without running into any of her staff. She was not one to parade around in a state of dishabille. Before she could decide, hands palmed her breasts and her breath caught. “What are you doing?” Don’t stop. His dark eyes regarded her with heavy lids. “Torturing myself apparently. Who are the folks visiting?” “No idea, but I sense power. Lots of it, which means I need to go, and you might want to make yourself scarce. Not all vampires respect the boundaries of ownership.” “If you’re saying they might try and make me lunch, I’d like to see them try.” “Brave words, my pet, but do you really wish to take the chance they could control you as easily as I? Best not to tempt it.” “Are you saying you won’t protect my virtue?” His crooked grin made something warm curl inside her that had nothing at all to do with sex but everything to do with like. An impossible emotion for an impossible man. “I told you before, I care for the wellbeing of no one but myself.” “Liar,” he chided her softly. “I think you care all too much and I’m beginning to wonder if it’s contagious.” Not understanding his words, she searched his eyes and sucked in another breath, not because his thumbs stroked the nipples of the breasts he still cupped and it made her cleft quiver. No, she inhaled deeply at the intent look in his eyes. His orbs glowed like ice caught in a ray of moonlight, passion smoldering in their depths along with…no, she had to be mistaken. Possession and protection by a man who said he would kill her. Surely she read wrong because of her own foolish desires.

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Stepping away from him, she wrapped herself in shadows, ignoring his knitted brow, and fled. The burning brand of his hands on her flesh, though, stayed with her. **** How the fuck does she do that? One minute she stood there chewing her lower lip, looking so utterly sexy and delicious—her nipples tight little buds begging for him to suck them, tempting him to toss her to the ground to finish denuding her—the next, she vanished as if into thin air. But her Houdini act bothered him less than his massive hard-on, a problem only she could solve. Before he could take a step in her direction, though, she vanished right in front of him. His wolf yipped in surprise, a sound he almost repeated. He’d not known invisibility was a trait vampires owned, although it would explain how she kept popping up on him. Dammit. He’d have to do something about her disappearing act because if he didn’t, and soon, his cock would probably explode. Talk about bad luck. Just when she was about to finally do something about his turgid problem, they got interrupted. Who cared if she had visitors? They’d disturbed what promised to be a hell of a good time. He’d bet if he could have gotten his hands—and tongue—on her, she’d have changed her priorities pretty damned quick. A low growl and query from his wolf made him frown. With her distracted, shouldn’t he use the opportunity to see if he could escape? Nah. I’m not done with Helen yet. Whether he meant to kill or screw her—or fuck to death—he no longer knew, but he couldn’t accomplish either if he left. But, left to his own means, he still had a choice. Go this room like a good dog— not—or go take a whiff of the guests? Gareth debated if he had time to shower and find some clothes other than the pajama bottoms he still sported. Somehow, he doubted it. Helen didn’t seem like the type to waste time primping. Despite her admonition to stay away from her uninvited guests, he couldn’t. He’d not missed the flash of trepidation in her eyes when she knew of the visitors. So what if he’d 64

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known her less than two days, or that she thought of him as a yummy piece of steak? It didn’t matter. An urge to protect surged in him, and until he knew the situation, he’d stick with the monster he knew, which possibly meant protecting her curvy ass. But how? Looking like a sweaty boy-toy wouldn’t impress anyone. However, his wolf might. Time to play, he whispered to his inner beast. Only too eager, his furry friend took over and Gareth gritted his teeth against the pain as skin stretched and sprouted hair. The fact he couldn’t stop clenching his muscles didn’t help as his jaw elongated and his limbs reshaped. Nothing could ever prepare for the agony of the change from man to wolf. Transformation done, with a shake of his coat, his wolf padded out of the exercise room, Gareth a passenger in their shared mind. But where his wolf could only speak to him when caged, Gareth could to some extent control the actions of his beast in this shape. Behave, he admonished. While tearing vampires to pieces might seem fun, he didn’t intend to embark on a suicide mission. It didn’t take him long to locate the yellow parlor, as Jesse had called it. He just needed to follow the overwhelming stench of vampire and the sweeter scent of his woman. Not ours, snarled his wolf at him. Someone was still testy on the subject, but right. She didn’t belong to them, nor would she. Theirs was a temporary arrangement if he could trust in her word. Oddly enough, he believed her when she said she would let him go. Then again, he’d already ascertained his stupidity where women were concerned. He’d believed Patty loved him once upon a time. Although, in retrospect, he could also admit he’d seen the warning signs. The fact he wasn’t allowed to sleep over, or leave anything of his behind when he did go to Patty’s place should have raised a red flag. But then again, he’d liked things that way. Who wouldn’t—sex with no strings. Funny how with Helen, even though he wanted to bang her sweet pussy within an inch of its life, he also found himself wanting to know more about her, and share things about himself. Talk about fucked up.

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He also really, really needed to keep her safe, an insane urge that got stronger the more he smelled the strange vamps. He didn’t want her facing them alone, not without him as backup. Halting outside the open French doors leading into a living room with no television—a waste of a room, he thought—he sat and listened to get a gist of the numbers in the room and a handle on the situation. It seemed he’d arrived just in time. “Lady Helen, how nice to see you again,” a simpering female voice said. “My liege.” Helen’s reply came out low and respectful. It raised his hackles. What the fuck? With a power like hers, he had a hard time seeing her kowtow to anyone. He peered into the room and saw his captor actually curtsying and wearing a slinky black dress instead of her usual jeans and Tshirt. It showcased her legs nicely and made him wonder what she wore for underwear. He hoped for naked, but would settle for thong. “Oh now, there’s no need for you to be so formal,” the young voice replied, unable to completely stifle the smugness. Craning a bit more, he noted the speaker, a small blonde doll of a woman dressed like a hooker with too much money but no sense of style. Short tube skirt, silk blouse, ruffled short waist jacket and makeup more suitable for clubbing than an indoor setting. “How may I serve you, my liege?” This time, he caught the edge of impatience in Helen’s tone. It made him slink closer, keeping care to stay hidden behind the large chair that blocked him from view. Not entirely unnoticed. Helen stiffened and he saw her dart a quick glance at him before returning her attention to the tableaux in front of her. “Can’t a queen just visit for the sake of socializing?” A titter came from the little vampire monarch, an annoying sound joined by the pair of gorillas who flanked her. Not very good guards, he thought, since they’d yet to spot him.

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“Of course, I’m delighted to have you come to my home. I regret I’ve nothing to offer you for refreshment. I find myself a few pets short at the moment.” “Odd, I’d heard tell Kevin sold you a Lycan.” A sly note entered the blonde’s voice and Gareth realized then that she hid behind her dumb act, probably as a way to lure unsuspecting idiots in. “You’re well informed, my liege.” “Knowledge is power, my dear Helen. I assume I don’t have to remind you about the laws.” “I’m well aware of them, my liege. Besides, I would never abase myself to mating with such a dirty creature. I do have standards.” Oh, I’ll show you dirty, princess. And you’ll love it. “I’d like to meet your new pet. I hear he’s quite fierce.” “He’s still in training,” Helen answered curtly. “Oops, then I guess someone forgot to leash him in their hurry to come see me because he seems to have joined us.” Maybe not as unnoticed as he’d first thought. Helen glared down at him, her lips tight. “As mentioned, I still need to work on his listening issues.” Gareth snorted and moved out into the open by her side. He sat down and leaned against her leg. If she was startled or worried by his move, she didn’t show it. Her fingers dropped down to tangle in the fur atop his head, the light stroke making his wolf crane its head for more. WTF? As if embarrassed at its enjoyment of her touch, a touch until now that his wolf vehemently eschewed, his beast glared at the trio on the couch, pulling back its gums to show a bit of teeth. “Seems like he’s pretty docile,” the blonde retorted, reaching out a hand. Snap! He just missed munching on some white digits, the vampiress having yanked her hand back just in time. Close call or not, her gorillas didn’t like it, or so he assumed, as they pulled their guns out and pointed them at him. He stood, hackles raised, and gave them a warning growl. “Enough.” 67

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Gareth didn’t hear the usual push of power in Helen’s words, but the goons relaxed as if she had, and even the visiting parody of a queen leaned back. “You really should muzzle him if you’re going to let him roam about accosting your guests.” “I was in the process of gagging him when interrupted,” Helen blithely replied, and Gareth would have snickered if he could have, but his wolf’s form didn’t lend itself to that kind of humor. He did peek up at Helen and saw the glint of mirth in her eyes. “You should probably get back to that then. I just dropped by to tell you in person that you are formally invited to my engagement party next week.” “My liege honors me, but I’m really not much of a social butterfly, as you well know.” “I do know, however, my fiancé insists. Says you’re old friends.” A deadly stillness invaded Helen. “I have no friends.” “Oh, he’ll be devastated you said that. He wanted to come today, but something came up. But that will make it an even better surprise next Saturday.” “Who are you engaged to?” Helen’s question didn’t have her usual bravado. Gareth didn’t like or understand it at all, although he should have rejoiced that there was someone out there that scared his captor. “Of course, it’s not just politics, but love that brings us together.” The theatrical sigh and clutching of her bosom made Gareth’s esteem of the queen drop even lower, if possible. “His name is Kristof Sandor. He’s inherited the state north of us. I’m surprised you hadn’t heard the news. He now wishes to form an alliance.” Everyone probably heard Helen’s sharp inhalation of breath at the news. The little queen’s eyes narrowed, her doll like features tightening with menace as she opened her mouth to question. Gareth couldn’t have said why he did it. Why did he care if his captor seemed shocked? Why should he prevent her from hearing questions she probably didn’t want to answer? But did the reason why really matter when he got such satisfaction out of lifting a leg and pissing on the foot of the gorilla closest to him? Bad wolf. 68

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He slipped out of the room in the ensuing chaos of shrill screams by the queen and promises by Helen to punish—spoken with an undertone of humor. He didn’t go far, though, just in case his actions weren’t enough to get the queen and her retinue fleeing. Only once he heard the door slam shut and silence reigned did he change back to his man shape in time to hear Helen say, “Next time you decide to mark your territory, mind not doing it on my cashmere rug?” He turned and, for once, she didn’t look away, although her eyes did shine with mirth. “Her guard annoyed me.” “Really? I hadn’t noticed. Does that mean I should watch out for golden showers if I get on your bad side?” Gareth shrugged. He wasn’t about to say he’d done it to save her from what obviously was a painful subject. A subject he found himself intensely interested in. “Who’s this Kristof?” That quickly, her humor fled and a blank mask dropped over her visage. “He’s no one.” “Wow. Talk about a whopper of a lie, princess.” “It’s none of your business. As a matter of fact, given the change in circumstances, I am releasing you from our arrangement.” She what? “What the fuck do you mean? You’re backing out? We had a deal. Sex for blood. If you aren’t giving me the one then you can forget the other. And just so you know, I’ll fight you if you even show me some fang, princess.” “Idiot. I meant I release you entirely. You’re no longer my pet, captive, or whatever you want to call yourself. I’ll have some proper clothes found for you and call my driver. Just let him know where you want to go.” Why on earth would she give him his freedom after, in no uncertain terms, saying she would not let him go until she was good and ready? Only one reason came to mind. “He scares you.” Which meant Gareth would have to kill this Kristof. It didn’t even occur to him to question the reason why. Instinct, and oddly enough, his wolf, made the decision for him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 69

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“I’m right, aren’t I? That Kristof character scares the fuck out of you and you’re planning to run.” “No and no on both accounts.” “Liar.” She gave him an icy glare. “I’m not discussing this. You may leave whenever you are ready.” She turned to walk away, but he grasped her by the arm and whirled her back. She shoved him—not as hard as he knew her capable of. He tightened his grip and yanked her against him as he stumbled. It brought her flush to his body, a fact her suddenly racing heart noted. At least he knew one thing for sure. Despite what just happened to freak her out, she still felt something for him. “You want to lie and deny, then fine, that’s your prerogative. But if you’re going to pretend everything is all right, then I see no reason not to pick up where we left off. As I recall, you were wearing less clothes and I was about to take you for a spin on my dick. So strip and let’s get the party started.” She gaped at him. “Are you out of your mind? This is not the time for playing games. I need to make plans and you need to go.” “Sex with me is not a game,” he drawled. “A hot, sweaty, fulfilling sport, yes, but never something so menial as a game. Still not interested? Then we’ll talk about why you need to make plans instead.” “No.” “Then you need to get naked, princess.” Flustering her was such an enjoyable pastime. “I refuse.” A fake, long-suffering sigh left him. “Stubbornness is not attractive, just so you know.” “Neither is trying to force me to have sex just because you’re horny.” “Oh, we both know there’d be no forcing involve.” He winked. She blushed. “Okay, let’s put sex aside for the moment. Let me ask you something else. Have you fed?” “Not yet, but—”

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“Then you’ll be hungry. You’ll think better on a full stomach. I know I do.” Offering himself as dinner should have shocked him. Instead, anticipation flooded him and his cock hardened. Besides, if it were anything like the previous night, her chomping on his neck would lead to some naked horizontal—or maybe even upright—tangoing. He dragged Helen by the hand and she reluctantly followed. They both knew she could have broken free at any time. She didn’t. Why that pleased him, he didn’t bother to dwell on. Nor did he know why he didn’t use her current unbalanced state to rip her head from her shoulders as he’d originally planned so long ago. Was it just a few nights ago that we first met? It seems like longer. Odder than his lack of enthusiasm for ending her life was the fact his wolf had stopped yammering they needed to kill the unnatural bitch. Actually, his wolf wanted him to…sniff her. Seriously? What the fuck was that about? A squeal and a slammed door let him know he’d startled at least one of Helen’s servants, probably the docile Jesse. “Couldn’t you at least cover yourself before dragging me all over the house?” Helen asked dryly. “Why dress when I need to be naked to fuck you?” Whoa, with those words, she put on the brakes and tug as he might, she didn’t budge. “Excuse me? I thought you were taking me somewhere to feed me.” He grinned at her, loving how easy it was to fluster her. At least for him. “I am, as I plow your sweet little pussy. Wasn’t that the deal in the exercise room? A little fuck and suck? I’m naked, you will be as soon as we get to my room, unless you’d prefer to do it out here in the open. No time like the present to get the deal done.” He said it nonchalantly, but his pulse raced and his cock pointed like some kind of cocker spaniel at the prize. Not that she let her gaze drop to admire his tremendous hard-on. “What happened to trying to kill me?” “I will, when I get around to it. Right now, though, I’m horny. Or hadn’t you noticed?” When she just pursed her lips instead of looking down, he

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grabbed her hand and placed it on his cock. Nothing like pointing out the obvious. She snatched her hand away and licked her lips. “Who says I’m in the mood?” He arched a brow at her and let a slow smile creep across his face. “Have you forgotten who you’re speaking to? I’m a wolf. I can smell your desire, princess.” And there came that red blush to stain her cheeks. “That is gross.” “No, it’s a natural body reaction to someone you’re attracted to, and personally, I find it very flattering. And I intend to show you how much.” “What if I don’t want to?” “Liar.” “I could make you obey.” “And I can make you come. Your point? Now stop yapping and get that sweet ass of yours moving.” She didn’t budge an inch, although her lips pulled tight and she glared at him. He sighed. “Fuck this shit.” He didn’t care if she could bench press him without breaking a sweat, or tear his arm off and beat him with it. He wanted this woman. Vampire or not. Major pain in his ass or not. And have her he would, even if it meant donating a few liters of blood. It would regenerate. His balls, if they fell off, though, from horniness, wouldn’t. He swept her up into his arms and continued walking until he reached his room. She surprisingly didn’t fight or say a thing, well except for an oomph when he tossed her on the bed before kicking the door shut. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” she said in a breathless voice that went well with her wide eyes. Gone was the ice princess, and in her place, a woman who trembled and appeared worried. He’d soon change that look. He knelt on the bed and grabbed her ankle, pulling her toward him, the fabric of her skirt sliding up as he did to reveal rounded thighs. “I really shouldn’t be doing this. And you shouldn’t either. We’re enemies, remember? I own you and you obey me.”

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She tried to ignite his temper. Instead, she made him more determined. “I think you should talk less, unless it’s to say ‘faster’ or ‘oh my God, I’m coming.’” “I—” He couldn’t reach her mouth yet, but he did have access to creamy white skin. He bent forward and placed his mouth on her leg, the tremor of her limb making him smile. He slid his mouth up the curve of her thigh as she lay there gasping, finally speechless. Tugging her skirt up around her waist, he exposed her sensible black cotton panties. For some reason, he found them strangely sexy even though they hid her entirely. He pressed his face against the front of the material, inhaling her sweet scent. Now that got him a reaction as her hips bucked. He steadied her with his hands, loving the rounded curves of her body, a plush softness he couldn’t wait to feel against his frame. Using his teeth, he pulled her panties down and she lifted her hips to help him, allowing him to ease them off of her and down the length of her legs. He tossed them to the side and turned back to face her. She had her legs clamped tight and her eyes partially shuttered as she watched him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. If it weren’t for the sweet perfume of her arousal, he’d wonder if she feared him or his touch. But a woman her age surely had many lovers before even if her blushes seemed to say the opposite. “How many men have you been with?” he asked, his voice gruff as a sudden jealousy gnawed at him. He gripped her ankles and pried her thighs apart as he waited for her answer. “Hundreds.” She lies. His wolf announced this tidbit, and he paused in his perusal of her perfect cleft to glance at her. “Try again.” “Why does it matter?” she snapped with some of the spirit he’d come to enjoy. “Because I’m wondering just how many memories I have to beat.” Until only one remained, or mattered.

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She whispered, and even his enhanced hearing missed it, or misunderstood. “What?” “I said one, damn you.” And that easily, he understood, one plus one equaled fucking Kristof, the man whose simple name freaked her out. A male she obviously still felt something for. Not for long. He didn’t question his possessive need. He didn’t ponder if he should stop. He just dove into heaven, determined to make her scream his name. Mine. Exposed to him, she couldn’t avoid his mouth as it found her moist core, although she did buck. He flattened his palms against her, holding her still, but that didn’t stop her from moaning or her fingers finding his hair and weaving through it first to pull him away, but then to clasp him closer. Fuck, but she tasted sweeter than anything he’d ever known. And her scent drove him absolutely wild. He lapped at her core, paying special attention to her clit, enjoying her keening. His ministrations made her slick. He shoved two fingers into her channel, groaning at the tight feel of her clamping around his digits. “Fuck me, princess. I want to sink into you so bad.” She didn’t answer, unless her short scream counted as he thrust his fingers in and out of her, triggering a climax that gripped his fingers so tight he wondered if they’d snap. Desperate to feel her around him, he tore his pants off, his digits still pumping her quivering channel. He let his thumb press against her swollen button and she moaned loudly, her head thrashing on the pillow. When he had her good and ready again, he guided himself into her sex. He’d only inserted a third of his length when he felt her tensing. He peered at her face and found her staring at him, her bottom lip once again caught between her teeth. “What is it?” he asked, holding back from plunging in, something in her expression stopping him.

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He saw a range of emotions cross her face as she struggled with some inner battle. “Do you want me to stop?” He hated even offering it, but she seemed so close to snapping that something in him, a gentle side he usually ignored, made him say it, hating the faint look of fear in her eyes. Hating how she tensed up as if in anticipation of pain. “Don’t hurt me,” she whispered finally, and she closed her eyes tight. Even so close to nirvana, a slow rage built in him as he realized something in her past made her dread this part of lovemaking. “Never,” he promised, and as he sank deeper into her, her sex stretching to accommodate him, he realized he didn’t just mean in that moment. And then he thought of nothing as pleasure took over, his guttural grunts coming in time to her moaning pants. **** Her second climax ripped through her as her wolf pounded into her, his strokes deep and strong, and best of all, pleasurable. He didn’t slap her as he rode her. He didn’t bite her hard enough to leave deep, seeping wounds. Pull out her hair, hold his hand over her mouth and nose, or place biting clamps on her nipples. He did nothing to hurt her at all unless she counted the coiling pleasure inside of her. But when he tipped her over that peak, unimaginable bliss roared through her, leaving her gasping for breath. She didn’t think it could get any better, but as he kept pumping into her quaking body, he pulled her head into the crook of his neck, and whispered, “Bite me, princess.” How could she resist? She sank her teeth into his skin, the warm gush of his blood rolling over her tongue. Oh sweet ambrosia, it made her come again, her body arcing under his, her sex fisting him tight. With a bellow that almost ended in a howl, his cock jerked inside of her, bathing her womb in his seed, drawing out her third orgasm. Bodies locked together, she imbibed of his life force, feeling her strength grow with each swallow. Dazed with power and sated lust, she eventually tore her mouth from him, having to 75

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remind herself that she wanted to keep him alive, the temptation to keep drinking so hard to fight. Even as she licked the punctures, the skin began to close, and she dropped her head back. He took that moment to roll them so she lay sprawled across him, a shame because she’d enjoyed his heavy weight on her. Big hands roamed the skin of her back, gentle strokes that seemed at odds with the wolf she’d gotten to know. “Hot damn. That was so worth donating a few pints.” Bemused, she raised her head to look at him. His eyes shone and his lips curved into a sexy grin that did strange things to her heart. “Glad you enjoyed. Still going to try and kill me?” A frown creased his brow. “No. I think we both know I’ve changed my mind about that. But don’t think you can get saucy about it.” “Why? What will you do if I am?” she teased, still feeling mellow. A glint entered his eyes. “I’ve got ways to keep a saucy mouth quiet.” Helen recoiled from him, his innuendo suddenly bringing to mind a part of her past she’d tried to forget. His arms, though, wouldn’t let her retreat and she found herself trapped on his chest. “What the fuck did that prick do to you?” “Who?” He snarled. “Don’t fuck with me, princess. Kristof. Ever since you heard his name, you’ve been acting like some wounded animal.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied. She pushed free from his arms and got up off the bed, the dress they’d never removed in their haste falling to cover her lower body. He sat up on the bed, unashamed of his nakedness, his hair rumpled and a glower on his face. “Do you want me to kill him?” “No. Don’t even think it,” she exclaimed. “Kristof is powerful. You think I’m strong? I’m nothing compared to him.” “He’s your maker.” Gareth stated it as a fact, not a question. “Yes, he made me. He fucked me. Body and mind. He’s the scariest bastard you’ll never want to meet, and you need to stay away from him.

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Actually, you should go, because if he’s found me, then no one around me is safe.” Gareth clasped his hands behind his head. “I’m not leaving.” “Of course you are. You said it yourself, you’re not food.” “I’ve changed my mind. I like it when you suck on me. So get your ass back over here. I’m not done with it yet.” “What do you mean you’ve changed your mind? I bought you. Remember? Drank your blood. Made you dance to my tune like a puppet. You hate me. You want to kill me. Escape from a life of servitude is your goal.” He shrugged. “Never been a sex slave before. Can’t hurt to try it for a bit. Besides, the food is good. Accommodations are nice. Oh, and the pussy is delicious.” “You’re insane.” “Horny. There’s a difference.” He patted the bed. “Now are you going to get your ass back in this bed or are you going to make me come and get it?” “You’re impossible.” She turned to leave before she lost her mind along with him and crawled back onto the mattress for some more of his erotic touch. He’d proven that her previous experience wasn’t the stick she should measure with. Actually, as sticks went, his was enormous. But still, knowing Kristof was here and aware of her, meant no one around her was safe. Gareth wasn’t the only one who needed to be sent on his way— She squeaked when she found herself upended over a naked shoulder and tossed back onto the bed. “What are you doing?” she yelled. “I told you to leave.” “And I said no,” he growled, falling on her. “So stop arguing.” Then he kissed her, his mouth gentler than his expression or words, and despite herself, she melted. Their second round of lovemaking didn’t have the urgency of the first time, but when she climaxed to his long, slow strokes, the intensity of it made her clutch him tight, and whisper his name, wishing for things she shouldn’t even dream of.

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Chapter Nine The mattress jiggled as she rose to leave, but Gareth didn’t stop her, knowing dawn soon approached. A part of him wanted to follow her to whatever dark den she hid herself in. His wolf actually urged it. He wanted to curl himself around her body as she slept, a protective blanket that would keep her from harm. Sounded like fun, even if it was an abrupt one-eighty from his previous goal of ending her life. Somewhere, somehow, he’d gone from wanting to stake Helen’s curvy ass to wanting to protect it. He could have lied to himself and blamed his new chivalrous instinct on the mind blowing sex, but it went deeper than that. Seeing her scared of her former lover triggered something in him, something primal and fierce. But hearing her fearful plea to not hurt her even as she lay open to him, giving him her trust, which he doubted many earned, did something to his heart. Like many a man discovered in the past, it was hard to kill the one you fucked. Yeah, he knew she was a murdering, blood-sucking vampire, but he was an ornery, entrail-ripping Lycan. A match made in heaven really if you looked at it. And so what if his kind had laws demanding the death of all vampires? Rule breaking was a specialty of his, and besides, he loved thumbing his nose at authority. So with his plan to end her reign of sensual terror abolished, that meant he needed to devise a new plan that saw him keeping her safe, and that started with him looking for answers and examining her house defenses. It was really cute the way she’d tried to throw him out, her way of protecting him from Mr. Big-N-Bad Kristof. As if he’d run with his tail tucked between his legs. Truthfully, he’d never had this much fun, not even when he lived in the pack. Sure, he courted danger, fed a blood sucker and probably took his life in his hands every time he sank his cock into her sex, but damn, did it make him feel alive. And he’d never admit it aloud, but holy fuck did he like feeding her. Even funnier, his wolf enjoyed it too. Actually, in some kind of weird flip, his

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wolf had gone from growling “kill the filthy bitch” to “bite the yummy bitch.” Odd, but at least they were on the same page. He let himself grab a few hours sleep before he went roaming her house, looking for clues about Helen, the woman. A waste of time. Nothing he located gave him any clues unless he counted her love of fiction, which he surmised by her rather large collection of hard cover books. Her video game stash showed an obsession with role playing games and a love of Nintendo’s Mario, which for some reason made him smile. During one of his sweeps, he discovered the front door unlocked and he stood on her front step breathing in the fresh air and squinting at the sunlight. I guess she was serious when she told me to leave. Did she rally figure I’d just take off after what we did? Probably, but he’d made her pay—AKA scream for mercy as he pleasured her—for that erroneous assumption later. Curious about her property, he exited the house and took a jog around her extensive estate. A wrought iron gate and fence bordered it with cameras all over that swivelled to track his motion. One thing became glaringly clear. Helen took her safety seriously. There were no trees or bushes of any kind within twenty feet of either side of the barrier encasing her property, nor were there any dense copses of foliage, the trees all planted well apart, not providing any kind of coverage for someone trying to sneak up on the house. He located sensors and other motion tracking devices all over the property, which also had a pool and hot tub on a stone patio at the back. But he didn’t find any signs of life as the day waned until he entered the house and ran in to Charles, the blond idiot. “I thought you’d be long gone. Forget something?” Charles asked with a supercilious lift of his brow. “I went for a walk. Something you should do before I rearrange your face. Helen won’t be needing your services anymore,” Gareth said, fighting an urge to kill the annoying male. The man tempting death sneered. “It’s you who should leave. Or wasn’t the open door a hint? I’m not going anywhere, and you’re deluded if you think Helen is going to ditch me for a dog.”

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Screw this. Gareth grabbed the smaller man and shoved him up against a wall. “Any last words before I kill you?” “Kill me and she’ll kill you,” he boasted. “Doubtful.” Charles smirked. “Fine then. Why don’t you wait and see? You might have stolen my turn last night, but she won’t feed from you three times in a row. She never does.” Gareth’s brow knitted. “What are you talking about?” “Helen alternates her feeding among her blood slaves. It keeps us stronger that way.” “And what do you get out of it?” Charles waved his hands around him. “Have you seen where I live? My every whim is taken care of from food to clothing to entertainment.” “You’re nothing better than a whore,” Gareth sneered. “So what does that make you?” Charles snapped. “Her lover.” Gareth quite enjoyed the look of open-mouthed shock on the other man’s face. “You wish.” “No, I did, more than once, which is why you’d better get your spraytanned ass out of here before I beat the hell out of it.” Gareth dropped him, a smug smile on his face. “No! You lie,” Charles yelled, his face mottled with anger. He took off running, and Gareth, with a shrug and nothing better to do for the moment, followed. He thought he lost the little sycophant at one point when they entered the basement, but using his nose, he tracked his scent until it disappeared behind that annoying stone block wall. He searched for a hidden trigger, but found nothing, making his frustration mount until he pounded on the wall. “Come out, you cowardly bastard. Come out and fight me like a man.” When the surface he smacked opened suddenly, he almost fell forward, but he caught himself. Before him stood Helen, a brow quirked in question. “You’re still here?”

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“Told you I was staying, princess. Now if you’ll step aside, I need to kill the little prick hiding behind you.” “Why?” “Because he’s breathing.” She laughed. “Still grumpy, I see. But you’ll have to find something else to kill. I still need him for feeding.” Gareth stilled and his gaze zeroed in on hers. “Excuse me? But I thought our new understanding was you’d feed from me.” “I intend to if you mean it about staying,” she said, her voice soft. “But, I also don’t want to kill or weaken you, so I need to alternate my source.” Gareth’s lips tightened at Charles’s triumphant smirk. “I can handle your feeding.” Her hand reached out, hesitated, then stroked the edge of his jaw before she pulled it away as if burned. “I wish you could, but even though your Lycan blood is more potent, you would begin to feel weak were I to feed from you on a regular basis. I have better uses for your strength,” she said, then blushed. A part of him wanted to prove her wrong, but his wolf yipped in warning. Despite his wishes, and he hated to admit it, jealousy, she was probably right. And if she were to weaken him, making him unable to protect her or defend himself, he’d resent her. Maybe even want to kill her again. Despite his initial thoughts about her, he no longer wished to end her life. Make her scream in pleasure, yes. Make her blush, pant, and act soft and womanly around him, definitely. So that led him with only one option. He gritted his teeth. “Fine. You may feed from him, but from the wrist only, and I will be present.” “I object.” “Shut it, Charles,” she ordered the idiot man before Gareth could with his fist. Then Helen smiled at Gareth and he finally did what he’d longed to do all day. He took her in his arms and kissed her. And yeah, he groped a bit too, wanting to mark her with his scent and touch, making it clear to the other male just who she belonged to. Mine.

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**** Helen had fed in front of people before. Hell, Kristof used to make her feed as he fucked her, sometimes whipping her back if she appeared to enjoy her meal too much. She didn’t enjoy it as she hated feeling as if she was on display, hated the vulnerability. Feeding with Gareth…well, that was a whole different affair. First off, he insisted they do it in the parlor, claiming he was the only man she’d spend time with in a bedroom from now on. Presumptuous, completely domineering, and oddly exciting. She allowed it. Then he took control of her dinner time, sitting on the couch and pulling her onto his lap. His bulging lap. She squirmed on the hard spot, trying to get comfortable, and he growled. “Stop that, princess, or you’ll be delaying your meal.” She quieted, but her heart sped up. Cocooned in his arms, his large body curved around hers and made her feel dainty like she’d not felt in centuries. She flushed in pleasure. “Tell your little boy toy to kneel.” “You don’t tell me what to do,” Charles replied, full of belligerence. “And what if I don’t want you around while she eats.” “Then you may leave,” Helen said coldly. “But you need me.” “Guess again, asshole,” Gareth replied. “Now do as the lady says.” Charles, with a glower, dropped to his knees. “Not facing us, dipshit.” Grumbling, Charles shuffled until he presented his back. “Done, my pet?” she asked Gareth, tilting her head to look at him. He kissed her until her breathing became erratic and his eyes gleamed with smoky desire. “No, but what I want will have to wait until you’ve eaten.” She couldn’t wait. Never had she wanted to feed less, or at least not from the slave in front of her. Her wolf on the other hand… She could have eaten him every day, probably forever, if only she could without killing him. 82

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With a sigh of disappointment, she made Charles raise his arm and she clasped it. She bit into his skin, but his oh so very human blood didn’t ignite her like Gareth’s did. She gulped without enthusiasm, that was until Gareth’s hands cupped her breasts through the thin material of her T-shirt and his lips brushed her earlobe. “Oh, princess, I can’t wait until you finish your dinner because I’ve been dying to taste you again.” He nuzzled her nape and a shiver went through her, then another as his fingers tweaked her nipples through the fabric. “I was going to lick every inch of your body first. Make you come on my tongue then fuck you until you come on my cock. But I don’t think I can wait that long.” He can’t? Despite the bland blood in her mouth, her body heated, and she squirmed on his lap, the hard nudge of his cock an exciting reminder that he meant what he said. He found her attractive. Wanted her. And he’d shown her the previous night that he knew how to please her. He nipped at the skin of her neck, and she shuddered. His hands dropped from her breasts to knead her thighs, their heat evident even through the material of her yoga pants. He stroked them to the vee of her thighs and parted them so her legs hung apart on either side of his. Then he cupped her, and she moaned as she kept swallowing. “Yeah, forget plan A. I don’t think I can wait that long to bury myself inside you. I need to feel that sweet pussy of yours clamped around me. I want you crying my name as I fuck you.” Yes, oh yes. She wanted to say the words aloud, but so close to being done feeding, she hurriedly sucked that she might finish. Gareth didn’t let up on his caresses, his hands everywhere, lighting a passionate fire wherever they touched. One hunger sated, she pushed the arm from her and turned her head to press kisses on Gareth’s jaw. “Get out,” he growled. Startled, she opened her eyes, but he stared not at her but the retreating form of Charles who threw a sullen look over his shoulder. I shall have to replace him. Because she wouldn’t have someone trying to ruin the unexpected joy she’d found in the arms of her wolf. Hard lips crushed hers, devouring 83

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her with a passionate intensity that made her burn for more. They somehow found themselves on their feet, his hands pushing down her pants and underwear, leaving her nude from the waist down, his hands on her bare skin making her gasp. He delved a hand between her thighs, his fingers brushing her cleft, and he groaned. “So nice and wet and ready for me. I’m going to fuck you, princess.” He managed to also lose his pants, and his hard cock brushed at the crevice of her ass and she pushed back against it, eager to show him her acquiescence. Gareth sat back down, his hands on her waist, guiding her down until her sex rubbed the top of his cock. So big. She’d feared the previous night he would hurt her from sheer size alone. Instead, she’d discovered incredible pleasure. Gruff and somewhat crass on the exterior, Gareth proved himself a gentle and giving lover, one concerned with her pleasure. He guided her down on his shaft and her channel stretched deliciously to accommodate him. Her fingers clawed his thighs as she tightened at the exquisite feel of him sheathed so deep inside. Fully seated, he allowed her a moment to enjoy the fullness before he showed her how it could get so much better. Hands on her waist, he bounced her on his length, thrusting his shaft so far inside her she gasped as he hit a sensitive spot. “Like that, do you?” he grunted, pumping faster. One hand left her waist to find her clit, and he stroked it, the direct stimulation triggering her orgasm. She couldn’t help the strident cry that burst from her as her flesh convulsed around him, but still he moved inside, taunting swirls of his cock that kept her waves of pleasure coming. His arm wrapped around her waist, and without separating or missing a beat, she ended up on the floor, on her knees and falling forward. She put her hands out to brace herself and found herself in a position that drove him even deeper inside. “Yes,” she panted. “Oh God, yes.” “That’s it, princess,” he growled. “I’m going to make you mine.” Faster he pistoned his hips, his flesh slapping into hers with a savagery that should have frightened or hurt her, but Gareth didn’t cause her injury. Instead, each stroke brought her further up that pinnacle of pleasure. He curved his body 84

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over hers, his hips tilting and his fingers stroking her nub. But what sent her over the edge was when he bit the back of her shoulder, his sharp teeth pinching her skin and surely leaving a mark. It made her come hard. Screaming as her whole body tightened then undulated in a wave of bliss, she knew only one thing in that moment. She’d foolishly fallen in love with the wolf, and never wanted him to go.

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Chapter Ten Despite the fact every other day Gareth had to put up with Helen chomping on Charles—followed by a frantic fucking as he staked his claim— he found himself happy. Actually, more than happy. Try bloody well ecstatic. The sex was incredible whether she fed from him or not. The whole Ineed-to-suck-your-blood bit was not the big deal he’d once thought. And Helen? Freaking amazing. While she had her soft moments, for him and him alone, with everyone else, she turned into an ice princess, always in command, not always very nice, and so fucking sexy he couldn’t help taking her—over and over again in every position imaginable. He’d made it his mission to baptize every room in the house, and lucky him, Helen didn’t seem to mind. But they didn’t just spend their entire waking time doing it like wild animals. No, they became friends. They talked, sometimes about his life growing up, how hard he’d found it after his mother died and his dad turned to drink. They discussed her upbringing in a time where women were little better than slaves. They watched movies, discovering a mutual love of alien flicks—although he still said Aliens beat Predator hands down any day. They even played the Wii, the multi player antics of Mario and Luigi seeing them laughing like fiends as they fought to make it through arcade levels so they could get to Bowser. As a woman, companion and lover, she was fucking perfect, and she opened his eyes to the realization that he’d never truly cared about Patty, unless regular sex counted. Hanging out with Helen showed him what friendship could feel like, so different from the jostling of brothers in a pack. Sharing with her made life richer and worth living. He’d do anything to protect it. However, while they talked and learned about each other, there was one taboo subject: Kristof. She refused to discuss him or her life with him. He tried to push, but she’d learned how to distract him, using her body to tempt into happier, more climatic pursuits. Of course, they couldn’t live in their dream world forever. 86

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Just over a week had passed since they’d become lovers and they were outside swimming in the moonlight. Well, she swam in a severe, one-piece black bathing suit. He lolled on the side of the pool, naked of course, watching her. He wavered between deciding if he wanted to fuck her in the shallow end or the deep end. Or should he prop her on the side of the pool, move aside the strip of cloth hiding her sex, and feast? His important thought process on ways to please her was interrupted by Jesse who arrived carrying a silver embossed envelope that stank of vampire. With a growl, Gareth tore it from the maid’s fingers and opened it. Helene De Toulouse You are formally invited to the engagement of Kristof Sandor and Madeleine Frontenac Friday evening at eleven. What truly made his blood boil, however, was the handwritten postscript. Do not think you can flee, little dove. I’m done being patient. Helen’s indrawn breath let him know she’d seen the missive. “You’re not going,” he stated flatly. “I have to. If I don’t then I am effectively snubbing my nose, which Madeleine will never allow. She is quite enamored of her position and what she believes is owed to her fealty wise.” “That blonde bitch isn’t who scares you though, is she?” Grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her curvy frame, Helen smiled. Only the sadness in her eyes gave her away. “No. The little queen is many things, but powerful, or at least more powerful than me, is not one of them.” “Why does Kristof want you to go? Is he trying to rub his engagement in your face because he knows you still love him?” The letter in his hand crumpled as his fists clenched. She blinked as if startled. “Love Kristof? What on earth ever gave you the idea I care for him?” “He was your first of many things and you refuse to talk about him.” “Kristof changed me, yes. He made me a vampire and a woman. But what I thought was love was something he quickly killed in his treatment of me. Like a foolish, frightened girl, I allowed it to go on for far too long. 87

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When I refuse to discuss my time with him it is because it is painful and humiliating for me to recall. Love him?” She laughed, a low and deadly sound. “I’d love to kill him. I tried to, you know, when I escaped.” “You escaped him?” This was the most she’d said on the subject since he’d learned of Kristof. Her eyes lost focus as she delved into her past memories. “Of a sorts. I tried to kill him. I almost succeeded too. Drunk on blood and alcohol, he was vulnerable, and the sword I wielded was sharp, but I must not have cut deep enough. I should have stayed to make sure he died, but terrified and desperate to leave, I ran. Oh how did I run, and mad by years of abuse, I’m almost ashamed to admit, I left a swathe of destruction in my path.” “There’s something to be said for unleashing the beast and venting,” Gareth said, having lost his temper himself on many an occasion, although maybe with not the drastic results she implied. “Oh, I vented. And killed. I mourned too, the loss of my life, however bleak it seemed at the time. I also grieved for the destruction of my innocence and the years of abuse I tolerated for the sake of not being alone.” “You’re not alone anymore. You have me.” He took a step toward her, but she shied away. “Do not delude yourself. We are lovers, for now. But you and I both know what we have won’t last forever.” “Says you.” “Knows me. There are laws for my kind, you know, laws forbidding our union.” He grinned. “Yeah, I think we’ve kind of broken those laws and probably a few state ones too. You’re going to have to try harder than that, princess, to scare me off.” “There is one bigger problem that you seem to have forgotten, though. You are mortal. I am not. You will age while I remain the same.” No, he’d not thought of that. “So you’d cast me aside for someone younger?” he snapped. Jealousy made his blood boil. And rage followed close behind. How dare she think we are just a temporary thing.

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“No, I am weak where you are concerned, it seems. But I’ve seen it before with humans, even ones who are only blood slaves. They resent the fact I remain young while the infirmities of age overtake them. And then the begging for me to turn them starts.” Ask her to turn him into a vamp? Hell, no. “Sorry, princess, but I’ll stick to being furry.” “Good, because I’m not sure what would happen if I tried to turn you. There are no recorded examples of the effects.” “And I have no intention of being a guinea pig to find out. What about your staff, though? I’ve noticed they’re older than normal humans and yet not vampires. So it is obviously possible to extend their lives.” “Ah, but you see, there is a catch with that. Yes, if I feed them my blood on a regular basis, just a touch, mind you, it does make them hardier, and almost impervious to the signs of aging and disease.” “So, in a few years, you do the same to me. Or are you so eager to get rid of me?” “No. I find myself quite fond of you, my wolf.” A pink blush tinted her cheeks and she dropped her gaze as if embarrassed by her admission, an admission that made him want to grab her in his arms. “But, there are unfortunate side effects to my blood. Firstly, it is required that I feed those serving me on a fairly regular schedule, although the longer they are bound to me, the longer between periods they can go. But the true problem with it is those who ingest my blood can no longer feed me.” He frowned. “Why not?” “Human blood, once tainted with the vampire gene, no longer has the nourishing qualities I require. It actually makes us quite sick. Trust me, I’ve tried it.” “So, you don’t feed from me and we stay together. Doesn’t sound that horrible to me,” he said with a leer. A shadow of a smile played across her lips. “It does sound delightful until you remember an important fact. With you unable to feed my hunger, I’ll need to feed from others, every day. I’ve seen how you hate me taking from Charles. How will you feel seeing me doing that for years, decades? How 89

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long before you come to hate the fact I need others to survive? I know you, Gareth. Your pride won’t allow you to accept it.” “You think you know me so well,” he growled. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I can handle a small kick to my pride if it means having you? Or do you not place any value on yourself?” Actually, his pride really didn’t like the thought, but given the choice between having his princess or not, he’d have to learn to live with it. “But there’s more. I am a vampire. I cannot give you children, or a white picket fence life. I am a predator who feeds on the blood of others. I will kill if threatened. Or sometimes just if I’m really annoyed.” “And I don’t give a flying fuck about any of that, princess.” He stalked toward her, tired of the distance she kept trying to place between them. Tired of the fact they kept dancing around one key point that hovered between them unsaid. Not for long. “I love you.” “You can’t,” she whispered, her face turning ashen. “Oh I bloody well do whether you like it or not.” “Did you not listen to a word I said?” “Yup,” he replied clasping her in his arms, a tight band that wouldn’t let her go. “I heard you, and I still love you. We’ll work the problems out as we come to them. It’s called a relationship, princess. Get used to it.” “But—” He shut her up in the best way he knew how, by plastering his mouth against hers. She tried to remain stiff against him, her body rigid, her arms clamped at her sides, but as he coaxed her lips apart, caressing her with a gentleness he knew she was unaccustomed to, she softened. With a small cry, she clasped him to her, a bone-crushing hug that told him how much she cared for him, worried about his welfare and feelings. He still had a lot of work to do to make her understand that just because she was strong, it didn’t mean he couldn’t shoulder some of the burden. He meant what he’d said. He loved her, and he didn’t care how taboo her fucking kind found it, or who didn’t like it. He’d rip them a new one if they tried to stand between him and his blood-sucking princess.

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Desperate to stake his claim on her, a fervency that seemed to hit every time they touched, he lacked the patience for a slow seduction. Or a more private setting. He tore her bathing suit from her, letting her alabaster skin gleam in the moonlight while her dark hair fell in a tangled wet cascade down her back. Bending her back, her breasts thrust up for him, the nipples sharp and begging, he devoured them, his mouth latching on to suck hard, eliciting, sweet cries from his princess. I’ll show her how much she needs me. Show her why she has to stop ever thinking we can ever part. The loyalty and affection he’d held for others in the past, for his pack, Patty, everyone he’d ever known, paled in the maelstrom of feelings he had for the woman in his arms. He loved her with a fierceness he’d never expected. He wanted to possess her, his lust for her without bounds. He wanted to protect her from everything, even herself. I would die for her. And kill. As his hands roved over her now familiar but still so exciting curves, he couldn’t help nipping her skin, marking her even if temporarily, trying to push away thoughts of the only one who’d ever known her intimately before. The one who thought to frighten and possibly try to claim what was his. Never! He picked her up, and her legs wrapped around his waist, his cock bobbing just below her sex. Her arms twined around his neck and for a moment, her passion-glazed eyes stared into his. He dug his fingers into her ass cheeks, holding her steady. He slid her back and forth along his length, lubing his dick while making her breath catch at the erotic rubbing. Slick, hard, and ready, he guided his aching prick bit by bit into her tight sheath. With every inch she took, her breath caught, but still, she kept her gaze locked to his. He could see so much in that glance. Need. Trust. And sadness. She truly thought their relationship doomed. He caught her mouth with his own, branding the ferocity of his love against her. Trying to make her see he meant his words, and would never leave. There had to be a way. And he would find it. He thrust into her, his buttocks clenching tight as her channel fisted him in a delicious fashion that made him want to howl in pure joy. Faster, he 91

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moved inside her, her quickening pants and tensing body the outward signs she approached orgasm. Too distracted for kissing, he buried his face in the hollow of her neck and shoulder, his lips pressed against her skin. Close, so close to coming himself, he opened his mouth wide and bit down, harder than he had before, his fangs dropping and piercing her skin. A drop, a single drop was all he tasted on his tongue before he recoiled, her words of before coming back to slap him with reality. And then he forgot everything as she screamed, milking his cock with the force of her climax, forcing his seed from him in a bulletlike rush to bathe her womb. And in the panting silence that followed, as they clung together sweaty, and sated, his wolf roused itself enough to say with a satisfied growl, Ours. **** Helen wanted to cry even as she floated back down from the intense experience. He loves me! A part of her wanted to jump for joy at the news. Her pragmatic self, though, recoiled. He couldn’t love her. To love her was to put him in danger. Kristof knew where she hid. Worse, he expected her to confront him. A more cowardly person would have run. It was, after all, what she’d done so many years ago. But she’d grown stronger in their time apart. Learned how to use her skills, practiced them. She’d known the day would come when she’d be forced to face her past. The time for fleeing was done. She would confront Kristof and pray to a God she wanted to still believe in that she would prevail. That he would either leave her to live her life on her terms, or if unwilling, perish at her hands. But she needed to do so alone. As Gareth carried her up to his room, the realization of what she must do made her tighten her arms around his neck. He mistook it for eagerness and broke it into a jog. She kissed the pulse at his throat, that rapid flutter that reminded her of his frailty, a word he’d hate. But so true. Despite his boastful claims, even his Lycan blood wasn’t strong enough to withstand the abuse Kristof would unleash on him if he discovered she’d taken the wolf as 92

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her lover. Kristof would kill him. And he wouldn’t be alone. All of her kind would join him as they paid obeisance to a law none of them understood, a law passed down for so long its origins existed only in the mists of time. A part of her wanted to flee with Gareth. Run and hide with him before she could fall prey to the monster of her past. I’m stronger now, though. Kristof won’t find me so easy to bend. However, if he knew of her feelings for Gareth, he could and would use them against her. My wolf is my one weakness. She couldn’t allow it. Even though she couldn’t say the words aloud, she felt them. I love Gareth. Loving him, though, meant protecting him. But first, one last selfish moment, one last night in his arms, basking in the warmth of his affection, a memory to take with her before she snuffed that light of love from his eyes. She ran her lips along the edge of his jaw, loving the rough edge of bristle, the way just a simple touch from her could make his heart race. He increased his pace until he veritably jogged, tossing her on the bed as soon as they entered the room, his body landing on hers, all six foot plus inches of taut, tanned skin. She wanted to do something special for him this last time. Something he’d appreciate. Rolling out from under him, she got up off the bed and held out her hand. “Where are we going?” he asked as he joined her, his fingers lacing through her own. “Shower,” she replied, dragging him into the bathroom. Used to her need for cleanliness, he didn’t protest. Instead, he let his hands roam her body as she warmed up the spray. She stepped under the rain fall, her favorite setting, letting the water sluice the sweat and the traces of their earlier love making from her body. She noticed a faint pink stain to the water, and she raised a hand to her neck, but before she could touch it, he caught her hand and kissed the palm. “Hand me the soap,” he murmured, his gaze smoky with promise. She almost did, loving how he usually soaped her up, running his hands over her body, slipping them between her thighs, making her slippery and not just because of the suds. Instead of letting him pleasure her, she clasped 93

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the white bar and slapped it to his chest, rubbing it in slow circles while he watched her with that slow, sexy smile of his. She moved lower, sliding it over and under his already hard cock, loving the way he sucked in a breath when she let one hand grasp him and tug. “Do that again and I won’t have the patience to make you come on my tongue,” he growled in warning. Her lips quirked and she dropped the soap to grab him with both hands, creating a tight tunnel with her digits that she pumped him with. His head tilted back and he groaned, a masculine rumble that sent shivers throughout her. She released him and let the water rinse him clean before she grabbed him again, pumping his length. Then she dropped to her knees, and he tensed up. “What are you doing?” he asked, his shock plain. With all they’d done in the past week since they became lovers, the one thing she’d not been able to bring herself to do was taste his shaft. It wasn’t that he didn’t tempt her. He did. However, every time she imagined it, her throat would tighten and memories of a darker sort would wash over her, and she’d shy away, unable to even try. And beautiful man that he was, he sensed it each time, and immediately made love to her with a gentleness that almost made her weep. I have to do this. Needed to wipe away the last bad memory. “What’s it look like I’m doing?” she replied sassily as she leaned forward to blow on the tip of his cock. She waited to see if revulsion would strike like it used to when forced to perform this act in the past. Nope, her cleft still throbbed and she found herself still wanting to taste him. He tried to pull her up, but she planted herself and refused to budge. “Princess, don’t. You don’t have to do this.” She peered up at him, loving the concern on his face because he knew why she didn’t go down. She’d spilled the nightmare of it during one of their cuddle sessions after lovemaking. “I want to. Now shut up before I make you.” Turned out she didn’t need to use any power for that, just her mouth on his cock. With a harsh gasp, he shut up as her lips slid over the widest part of him. He stretched her wider than expected, but she didn’t panic, and her 94

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throat didn’t tighten in fear. It helped that he let her set the pace. She let one hand brace on his thigh, while the other held the base of his shaft. She took him deeper, the edge of her teeth, especially her fangs, grazing his skin. He hissed. Startled, she let him go and peered up at him. Smoldering blue eyes stared back. “Oh God, princess, you’re going to make me come.” She smiled. With more confidence now, she took him back in her mouth and sucked. Her hand, which grasped the base of his cock, moved in time to her oral ministrations, her lips slipping back and forth along him, her tongue sensitive enough to feel the way the pulse in his cock fluttered behind the taut skin. Take about tempting her. His fingers threaded through her hair, gently, still allowing her to set her the pace. She wanted faster. Her teeth nicked him in her frenzy, the coppery taste of blood making her moan in pleasure, a vibrating sound that made him thrust his hips. She took him deeper, swallowing and sucking in earnest now, pulling at his skin, tasting the trickle of blood, and when he pulsed at last with a primal roar, she swallowed his other essence, draining him until the shudders in his body stopped. He drew her up and hugged her tight to his chest, his lips kissing her temples, her cheeks, her mouth. He murmured against her lips, “I love you so fucking much, princess.” She almost said the words back, clamping her lips tight lest they slip free. But she thought them. I love you too, my wolf, which is why I need to do this.

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Chapter Eleven As they snuggled, Gareth tried numerous times to bring up the subject of the party and his intention to join her. She distracted him each and every time with her mouth, body, hands, anything so she wouldn’t have to lie to him. The dawn, and her dreaded task, arrived too quickly. “I’ll see you tonight when you wake,” he murmured at the entrance to the basement. They’d had their usual argument about him joining her, and her refusing. She didn’t want to take him from the sunshine. And for the first time since they’d bickered about this topic, he didn’t press the point. Folded in his arms before her departure to her lonely cave, he nuzzled her hair, giving her his warmth and strength. She’d never felt so loved, and she’d never loved someone so much in return, which was why it broke her heart to do it. And yet, it was precisely because of her feelings she couldn’t avoid it. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Know that I do this for your own good.” “What are you talking about?” he asked, leaning away from her with a puzzled frown. “Leave.” She pushed power into her words, but he clenched and fought it, his whole body trembling. “Don’t do this.” “You have to leave. I am ordering you. Don’t come back here.” Her voice broke on the words, and her heart shattered at the pain in his eyes. Hurt turned to anger. “Princess.” He growled, even as his body jerked and began to move. “I’m going to paddle your ass when I come back.” “Do not return to this house. Quiet.” She whispered the command, unable to stop the tears from forming in her eyes. Thankfully, he missed them as he turned and marched stiff-legged to the front door. He exited the house, an unwilling passenger to her will. Her steps followed more slowly until she stood framed in the doorway, tears falling unchecked as she watched him stalk away, his back a stiff rod of fury. Tendrils of dawn crept over the horizon, tickling her skin painfully. She slammed the door shut and locked it before slumping to the floor, her 96

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shoulders heaving. Why did doing the right thing have to hurt so much? A pain she could live with if it meant saving Gareth from death because she didn’t doubt for one minute Kristof would try and kill him. I love him too much to allow that. Although Gareth would probably end up hating her. Once he got out of her sphere of influence and back to his regular life, he’d either curse her name or forget her. Sure, he’d had fun fucking her, thinking he loved her, but it would never have lasted. A wolf and a vampire together, that type of happy ending only happened in books or movies. She tried to make herself believe the lie. Tried to fool herself into pretending he’d not cared as much as he’d claimed. But in the darkness of her room, almost a tomb, she couldn’t lie to herself or deny the hotness of her tears for what she’d willingly given up…for love. **** Gareth allowed her compulsion, weaker than usual, to take him down the driveway and out of the gate He let himself walk for a few hundred yards down the road because he needed the brisk movement to help siphon off some of his fury. She threw me out! It didn’t help that he knew she did it because she cared. She might not have said the words aloud, but he could tell she loved him. Could see it in the way she looked at him, touched him, and now tried to protect him. My silly, misguided princess. Even funnier, she thought she could order him from her side, as if he’d leave so easily. Sure, her command to leave tugged at him, but he’d left more out of a need to compose himself than anything else. Better to take a cooling walk than shake her until her teeth rattled, although he wouldn’t have minded the part after where he would have fucked her until she promised never to act so stupid again. I might not be her true equal in strength, but there’s a reason why my kind are feared by the vampires. Put me in a one on one situation and I’ll rip that Kristoff a new one. So long as the blood sucker didn’t use his vampy powers on him. Fuck.

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If the other guy owned the same level of ability, or more, than his Helen, things could get dicey. However, he’d rather attempt to fight than hide behind a woman. Talk about cowardly. Of course, these musings on his and Helen’s part assumed that Kristof meant her ill. His wolf snorted. Okay, the other vampire almost certainly had a hate hard-on for her, but if Helen planned to face her nemesis, then the least he could do was provide backup—and blood for after the fight, followed by some I-just-survived sex. Because I refuse to believe we’ll lose. He’d die fighting first. Stopping at the side of the road, calmer now, he laughed as it suddenly occurred to him that she’d obviously not thought out her plan of getting rid of him that well. Miles from anywhere, exactly where had she thought he’d go on foot? Just more proof she didn’t truly want him gone. Striding back to her property, he approached the closed gate and climbed it. He knew somewhere a silent alarm probably rang, but her staff, the few paltry daytime guards she owned, would more than likely ignore him. Gareth had already made clear what he’d do to them should they ever get in his way. It still didn’t stop one of them from emerging, gun pointed, to say, “Milady told you to leave.” Oh she had, had she? She worked fast. “A lover’s tiff.” “Yeah, but she signs the pay check,” the guard dressed as a storm trooper said. “And I’ll sign your death warrant if you don’t get your ass back to your guard post.” He then snarled, letting some of his beast rise to the surface. It was enough to send the human scurrying, and Gareth snorted in disgust. He’d really have to do something about security. Cameras and whatnot were all well and good, but without properly armed and fearless guards to back them up, more useless than teats on a bull. What she really needs are some shape-shifters in her employ. An intriguing idea to ponder once they got out of this mess. First puny hurdle down, he stalked toward the front door to see if she’d left it open as she had on previous days to give him some freedom and fresh air. He didn’t expect it to be that easy, but given all the other entrances to the 98

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house and windows were sealed with metal shutters, the front door remained his most likely prospect—even if he needed to swing an axe to get through. Before he’d even reached it, though, it swung open and he saw people, Helen’s meager staff, bearing luggage, milling about the hallway. “Where are you going?” he barked. Frightened eyes peered at him, but instead of answering, they pushed and shoved each other as they headed for the dawning sunshine. The purr of several engines made him turn to see at least three cars parked out front, doors and trunks open as the staff threw their bags, and themselves, into the openings. Nice how they all scurried to escape the sinking ship. Jaw tight, and his beast clawing at the surface of his mind in agitation, he went stomping down the stairs to the basement where he ran into a pair of familiar faces, Jesse and Charles. The former bore a tear-streaked face, the latter a perpetual glower. “What’s going on?” Gareth snapped. “Milady has released us from her service. We are to vacate the property and relocate as far as possible before nightfall,” the gentle maid said. “Well, everyone else is. I’m staying.” She went up a notch in Gareth’s esteem. Charles, however, proved himself true to form. “This is your fault,” whined Charles. “You came along and ruined it for the rest of us.” “Stuff it, dickwad. She threw me out too. Her ex-boyfriend is in town and she’s worried he’s going to come gunning for her. She thinks she’s doing us all a favor.” The whites of Charles’s eyes almost swallowed his face. “You mean we’re actually in real danger?” Gareth leaned into his face. “Deadly.” “Then I’m out of here.” Charles, hiking a knapsack on his shoulder, took off almost running for the stairs. Jesse stayed behind. “Don’t you think you should be going too?” he asked. She shrugged and a rueful smile curved her lips. “Milady saved me from a certain death over a hundred years ago. I’ve already lived longer than most, and besides, she’s my only friend. So Kristof has found her?” 99

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“You know of him?” Jesse nodded. “When she found me, I’d led a less than pleasant life. She told me a little about her time with him, I think, as a way of showing me that it is possible to escape and start over.” “Starting over sounds like a plan, but she refuses to run. She’s trying to make us leave so we won’t get hurt, but your idiot mistress intends to confront him even though he terrifies her. ” “But you haven’t left, so you will have to go with her to face him and protect her,” Jesse said matter-of-factly. “I’ll do my best. Now, do you know how to get in to her safe area?” He’d asked Helen several times over the past few days and she’d denied him, saying she preferred he not see her when she lay in her deathlike sleep. When he’d gotten angry and asked why she let her staff and that idiot Charles in there, she’d kissed him and said, “Even they do not have access to me when I sleep. No one does. But for their safety, they have their own rooms they can use in the event the house is raided by those wishing to cause harm.” “And you don’t think I need the same kind of protection?” She’d smiled almost mockingly. “I wouldn’t insult you like that.” Her answer got her fucked up against the nearest wall, her faith in his prowess a major turn on. And a lie it seemed because look at him now, an outcast. But not for long. Jesse hit some sort of hidden switch and one of the stone block façades slid to reveal a control panel. She punched in a series of digits, then frowned as the light flashed red. She bit her lip and tried again. The system denied her access. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. I kind of thought this might happen when I saw you all leaving the joint. Tell you what. I know you don’t want to actually leave, but things might get kind of hairy over the next few days.” He then proceeded to tell her where to go and wait for him or Helen to sound the all clear. If she didn’t hear from them within three days, he wanted her to flee and hide, changing her name and looks as much as possible. 100

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With the order to vacate still ringing in their ears, and imbued with enough push to make it stick, it didn’t take long for the house to empty and the usual daytime stillness to reign. Dragging a mattress down to the basement, Gareth bunked down, determined to get some sleep in preparation for the evening ahead. That and he wanted to be the first person Helen saw when she got up from her slumber. He owed her a shaking and then a thorough fucking for her attempt to ditch him. **** Helen woke with her cheeks wet, and she scrubbed at the sign of weakness. I can’t afford any chinks in my armor tonight. She didn’t know what Kristof wanted—revenge probably—but in spite of the unknown, she couldn’t show emotion of any kind. Most especially sorrow over the loss of her wolf. Encased in her concrete tomb decked in the finest luxuries from the thick carpet to the hand wrought furniture, she allowed her shoulders to droop as she got up to prepare for the day. She’d made sure to release everyone in her employ the night before with the exception of a few guards who would have gone home as soon as the sun set. But just in case her orders had missed someone, she flicked on her television, pulling up the security channels that broadcast the signals from the cameras all over the property. One by one, the rooms and outdoors that had become so familiar gaped at her, empty of life, a few signs of chaotic exit evident in overturned chairs and broken pottery. She’d almost clicked it off when motion caught her attention. She leaned forward to peer at the screen, then cursed. “Stupid, stubborn, flea bitten, mangy dog.” Jabbing at the panel that controlled access to her private domain, she stormed from her suite, stomping her feet all the way up the stairs and through the mazelike tunnels that led to the reinforced and hidden door that exited into the basement. It

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slid open and she glared at Gareth where he leaned against the wall, looking nonchalant—and so utterly sexy. “What are you doing here? I told you to leave.” “Yup. You did. Did I forget to mention I’m not good at obeying orders?” “But I commanded you.” She sounded petulant even to herself. “And I chose to ignore it.” “I saw you leave.” “I came back. Are you going to keep repeating yourself all night or are you going to kiss me and say good morning?” “I did it to protect you,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest lest she give in and let herself melt in the comfort of his arms. “For fuck’s sake, is old age making you senile? When are you going to grasp that I don’t want or need you to molly coddle me? I’m here to stay, princess, whether you like it or not. So pull up your big girl panties and suck in that lower lip or I’ll give you something to whine about.” “I hate you,” she lied in the hopes of making him angry enough to leave. He snorted. “There you go blowing smoke up my ass again. Am I going to have to prove you wrong?” She sighed and rubbed her hands over her eyes. “Why are you doing this to me? Why couldn’t you just go?” A rustle of fabric alerted her he’d come close and then his arms closed around her, his mouth brushing against her temple. “You’re stuck with me, princess. And before you even think of trying to order me again, let me make it clear, I am going with you to this party.” “Not if I lock you up,” she grumbled against his chest. Despite her arguing, she truly was happy he’d returned, although, his love for her would probably get him killed. “You don’t want to try that. Because I’d still come after you, but I’d probably be pissed and put you over my knee in front of all the other vampires.” “You would too, stupid wolf. It’s probably going to be dangerous tonight. I’m not sure what Kristof wants of me. Kill me. Say hello. Try and 102

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take up where we left off?” A growl made his chest rumble and she soothed him with a kiss. “Never. Never will I let him touch me like that again. Not willingly.” “Then why go to the fucking party in the first place?” She raised her head and met his gaze. “Because I’m weary of running. I’ve grown strong in the centuries since I left. And a foolish part of me hopes that perhaps I’m wrong, that he’s ready to leave me alone.” “He is getting married.” Helen rolled her eyes, unable to believe he’d even said that. “I realize you’ve only met Madeleine briefly, but seriously, can you imagine anyone wanting a forever after with her?” “Nope. But there’s no accounting for taste.” “You don’t say,” she replied dryly. He squeezed her until she squeaked. “Saucy princess.” She shook her head at his attempt at humor. “I really can’t dissuade you?” He shook his head, a smile hovering at the corner of his mouth. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Oh, and don’t blame me for the outfit.” “What outfit?” She smiled at him enigmatically before turning and gesturing him into her lair. Foolish him, he followed, then again, considering how much he claimed to love her ass, he’d probably follow her into hell itself.

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Chapter Twelve Tugging at the collar didn’t make it any better and he couldn’t help the low growl when she yanked at his leash. “Explain to me again why this ridiculous getup is necessary,” he hissed. She perused him, mischief bright in her gaze, a look he liked much better than the anxious trepidation of earlier. Of course, the reason for her mirth, his outfit, didn’t exactly please him. She’d dressed him up after all like some stripper with skin tight leather pants—a leftover from Charles that thankfully still had their store tag on them. Leaving him bare-chested, she’d rubbed his skin with a lotion, whose scent made him think of her, and which she claimed would help other vamps recognize his status as her personal blood slave. Those things he could handle, but he’d protested, to no avail, when she latched the heavy leather collar around his neck and snapped a leash to it. “You’re a Lycan, which is not only rare among my kind as a pet, but considered dangerous. By wearing my collar and allowing me to control you, you show that I’ve tamed your wolf, my pet.” “You know I hate it when you call me that.” “Too bad, because tonight, that is all you are. And try to remember to keep your mouth shut. We both know your eloquence is more likely to get us in trouble than anything else.” He grinned. “I do have a way with words.” She placed a finger on his lips. “No, you have a way with your tongue, the rest, well…” She laughed when he nipped her finger. The limousine, courtesy of the engaged couple, slowed to a stop. It seemed Kristof wanted no excuses tonight. One way or another, they would face Helen’s past. “Now remember what I said about behaving,” she reminded him. “And whatever you do, don’t look at me like we’re lovers. We’ll say our hellos, congratulate the lucky couple, and leave.” “Then we go home and fuck.” Her cheeks turned pink. “I knew I should have muzzled you.” And he should have grabbed her and run far, far away, he thought, his lips thinning into a grim line as they arrived and the rear passenger door 104

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opened. The stench of vampire rolled over him in a wave and along with it came a tingling of power. He could see Helen, felt it too in the way she clasped his leash tight, her eyes dark and determined as she led the way up the mansion steps. He’d expected to feel like an idiot in his sex toy getup, but as he peered around, he thanked the stars his outfit was so tame. No matter what these vamps thought, speedos were not an acceptable form of dress for any occasion. The place crawled with blood suckers, humans, and a few beings whose scent Gareth didn’t recognize but made his hackles rise. Helen waded through the sea of people like a queen, not deigning to notice them unless they stepped directly in her path to address her. Even then, she often cut them dead with an icy mien that sent them scurrying. She even looked like a monarch in her long gown of amethyst, its high waist and low, square cut putting her bosom on display in a way that roused his jealousy, especially when more than one male gaze lingered on the shadowy cleavage. He had to content himself with the knowledge that only he would get to bury his face between those perfect globes and raspberry them until she gave him one of her rare giggles. Even harder than trying to rein in his don’t-touch-it’s-mine tendencies was not snapping and in some cases, biting off the hands of the various vampires that kept trying to pinch his ass or touch him—and not all of them were women! He now had a much healthier respect for what those poor waitresses in Hooters went through. He bore it, though, without saying a word, but it seemed Helen wasn’t as forgiving. When some vampiress with glazed eyes halted him in her tracks so she could drape herself around him and lick his chest, he got treated to his lover staking her territory. First, Helen grabbed the smaller vampire, picking her up by the hair, which appeared somewhat uncomfortable judging by the screech that left the redhead’s mouth. “Silence.” Helen breathed the word, her eyes stormy with annoyance. Lo and behold, the female who’d thought to grope him clamped up tighter than a nun’s legs. What do you know, vampires can compel each other. Although he’d 105

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wager age and strength played a big part in it. And his princess was definitely bad ass in that department, as he well knew. “Did your maker not tell you it’s bad form to touch without permission?” Helen shook the other vamp for emphasis. Then she tossed her. “Go and play with the other children.” The sneer on her face should have made her ugly, but damn, she looked so fucking haughty with her hair swept up and her lip slightly curled. He crossed his hands over his crotch lest anyone see just how hot he found it. “Goodness aren’t we a little possessive, and over a dog. I’m surprised.” Gareth recognized the simpering voice of the wannabe monarch. He adopted a bored expression and held in a smirk as Helen rolled her eyes before turning. “My liege, don’t you look absolutely ravishing this evening.” Smiling coyly, the almost childlike blonde preened and even did a pirouette, forcing her extravagant white gown to billow out. “Do you think so? I had it specially designed for the occasion. I can’t wait for Kristof to see it.” “He’s not here yet?” “He could be,” giggled Madeleine. “One never knows. He likes to appear out of thin air and make an entrance.” “How right you are, my sweet lady.” Gareth couldn’t help the growl that rumbled as he whirled to see a man behind him, a man he’d neither scented nor sensed. His wolf went mental inside his head, snarling and snapping. Gareth kind of wanted to snarl and snap himself when he beheld the blond Adonis. Perhaps not as big as him, nevertheless, the man loomed with chiseled features most often seen on a male model. Minus the huge scar, of course. It went from one ear to the other, just above his Adam’s apple. A left over present from Helen? He kind of hoped so while at the same time, not, because a daily reminder like that would demand revenge for sure. He found his view obstructed as Helen stepped in front of him. “Kristof. It’s been a long time.” Had Gareth not come to know her so well, he might have missed the high-pitched quaver in her tone. He didn’t like it one bit. Nor the fact she 106

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thought to act as a shield in front of him. But he’d promised to behave, and he would, for now. “At last, I’ve found you again, my little dove. I was quite wounded when you left my side those many years ago.” The words were said lightly, but a dark undercurrent ran through them, a mood that matched the storminess of Kristof’s eyes. “See, I told you she’d come,” Madeleine said, linking her arm through Kristof’s, smirking in triumph at Helen. Only the pretending queen missed the grimace of distaste that twisted Kristof’s face. A sense of foreboding went through Gareth. “We should adjourn somewhere more private to speak and catch up,” Kristof said, inclining his head toward one of the smaller archways. “Can’t you catch up another time?” his fiancée complained. “It’s our engagement party and I want to dance. And you know how I am when I don’t get what I want,” she warned, stamping a foot for emphasis. “Yes, you turn into a spoiled, tantruming child.” The coldness in Kristof’s tone seemed to surprise the small queen, because she turned disbelieving eyes up to him. “You did not just speak to me like that,” she warned with an angry glitter in her eyes. Only an idiot wouldn’t have felt the gathering of power in the compact body. It seemed the doll like queen hid more than an annoying personality under her shallow veneer. “Oh, I did just call you a brat. And you will not do a thing about it, or I will embarrass you in front of your people.” Gareth believed him. He’d bet Helen did too. Madeleine, however powerful as she thought she was, didn’t. He felt the push she sent Kristof’s way. Saw the effect as the people closest to them went sliding back on the floor. Helen anchored Gareth in place as she weathered the buffeting ring of power. As for Kristof, he laughed. “What a shame I still need you in order to control this territory. But did I mention I don’t care if it’s willing or not? Fear works just as well.” 107

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With a twitch of his hand, the tiny queen rose, and rose some more, her shrieks not starting, though, until he hung her on the hanging chandelier, the flickering flames from real candles burning her skin. “Silence.” Kristof breathed the word, and the sound in the room froze, most of the action as well. Some of the stronger ones, or so Gareth surmised, clenched their lips, and their eyes darkened, but they did nothing to gainsay the show of power. All but one. “Really, Kristof, must you always show off?” Helen said it in a bored tone as she looked at her nails with the insouciance of someone who really didn’t give a damn. It was a great act. “These pretenders need to be shown what real power is.” Kristof waved his hand around the room, his power pulsing all around them. It even affected Gareth to a certain extent, something he fought against. “Somehow I doubt the council will like your gauche display. There are rules, Kristof, rules even you must obey. You might be strong, but there are others stronger than even you.” “Those old men and women? They are too busy discussing how they miss the olden days to worry me. You, on the other hand, should tremble.” Her back straightened. “You don’t scare me, Kristof. I’m not the young and stupid girl you once knew.” “I own you, little dove, and I will do whatever I please with you.” “Like fuck.” Gareth couldn’t help himself from snarling it. It had the unfortunate effect of bringing the monster’s cold gaze to bear on him. Yeah, probably not good. “The dog speaks. Give it a treat.” “Ignore my pet,” Helen said, interjecting herself between them and breaking the unnerving staring match. “He is nothing. Just an ill bred dog who still needs lessons in obedience.” Gareth almost groaned because he knew Helen had just made things worse. Kristof’s low chuckle confirmed it.

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“Are you protecting a blood slave?” The tsking sound made Helen’s back stiffen, and Gareth readied himself to step in to her aide despite the power that wrapped around his limbs demanding he stay still. “Do you care for this dog?” “Of course not,” she said in a voice meant to be cold, but which trembled a fraction. And, of course, the vampire caught it. In a blur of motion, Helen ended up shoved aside, and Gareth was held against a chest, a hand gripping his jaw. He immediately fought the hold only to find his limbs frozen with one softly spoken word. “Stop.” Unlike Helen’s commands, Kristof’s order, with all the weight of his power behind it, immobilized him. For the first time, Gareth knew fear. How could he protect Helen who stood facing them, her fists clenched almost as tight as her lips, her eyes flashing with panic and fury? But the price of Kristof’s command was the blood suckers in the room were released, and while some fled, most stayed, leaving a rather large audience of vampires and their pets to watch as Kristof stroked Gareth’s throat with a nail, scratching the skin and drawing blood. “Unhand him. Your fight is with me, not my pet.” “But I find myself hungry, and while I usually prefer to feed from the fairer sex, I find myself wondering at the taste of a Lycan. They are so rare, as you know.” She took one step forward. “Don’t you touch him.” She almost spat the words she was so furious. “Stop me if you dare then, little dove.” And then the fucker bit him, and Gareth couldn’t even fight or yell. But his wolf, pacing the confines of his mind, could, and it howled. A cry of despair, because throat torn, blood gushing, and his sight dimming quickly, things didn’t look so rosy. Worst, he couldn’t even say any final words to Helen who stared at them open mouthed, her eyes stricken. I should have taken her and run. Forgive me, princess.

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Chapter Thirteen Her heart stopped and horror engulfed her, the sight of Kristof holding Gareth prisoner freezing her in a stasis similar to Gareth’s forced immobility. That moment of indecision—Do I attack or beg?—cost her and she could only scream, “No!” as Kristof tore Gareth’s neck open, slurping at the blood, his eyes dancing with a dark, gleeful madness. As for her wolf, chagrin lit Gareth’s expression, and she could almost hear him whisper in her mind to run, to flee before she met the same fate. But she wouldn’t let her lover die. Not like this. Not alone. Not without retribution. “You bastard!” she screamed. Coiling her power, a power made stronger since she’d begun feeding from Gareth, she spoke with a cold fury that should have killed all in its path. “Leave him alone,” And the force of her voice made the room tremble. It also made Kristof pause. Lifting his head, his mouth a bloody smear, he dropped the limp body to the floor. Gareth’s eyes fluttered shut, his face ashen. Wiping his sleeve across his lower face first, Kirstof then sneered at her. “He’s got kind of a nasty aftertaste, don’t you think? And it seems the rumors of the potency of Lycan blood are lies. You can have him back, although I guess he won’t be much use to you in a few minutes. But that’s okay, little dove, I’ve got plenty of slaves for you to feed from when I bring you home.” “Never, you bastard. I should have known you wouldn’t fight fair.” Just as she’d imagined and dreaded, Gareth lay wounded, almost certainly mortally even given his Lycan healing abilities. It made her furious, and more determined than ever to wipe that smirk off Kristof’s face. To hurt him like she now ached. Blond brows arched. “Fair? Is it my fault I’m stronger? Your furry pet could have fought my command or grasp, but he was weak, just like you’re weak.” “Really? Are you sure of that?” A grim smile tightened her lips, and she crooked a finger at him, beckoning. 110

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“I know that.” Kristof moved in blur, but Helen moved as well so that when he thought to grab her, she eluded his grasp, spinning from him, but in a way that saw her arcing a foot out to lash at him. It didn’t cause any true damage, but surprise lit his features. “Someone’s been practicing.” Kristof sounded almost pleased, which sent icy fingers down her spine. The smile he gave her reminded her all too much of her past. How could she forget how much Kristof liked it when she fought? A thing he encouraged because he did so enjoy punishing defiance. As if thinking it were a reminder, he said, “Come on, little dove. Give me your best shot. Scare me with your puny power, and provide me an excuse to put you back in your place, on your knees, your harlot mouth around my cock, sucking. Or was that gagging? You always did make the sweetest sounds.” She blocked out the imagery of his words, but let their intent fuel her anger. Then she drew on everything she’d learned in her long life and she fought. She exchanged blows with her former lover and maker. But despite every deadly move she’d practiced, no matter how hard she struck him, or how much power she’d gained and cultivated to throw at him, Kristof was just stronger, and faster. He countered most of her blows, and while she managed to block some of his, others swept past her guard to pummel her, sending her staggering. One hard blow hit the edge of her jaw, splitting her lip and sending blood dripping off her chin. Kristof laughed. “Doesn’t this bring back fond memories, little dove? You being pathetic, and me showing you the error of your ways?” It did, unfortunately, and a part of her wanted to die rather than let Kristof get his filthy hands on her for what she knew he’d want once he’d beaten her down. But how to keep hope when her best wasn’t enough? It was then, at the end of her endurance, beaten and bloody, that she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. In their deadly dance, Kristof ended up mere inches in front of Gareth, a wolf who wasn’t yet dead as she’d feared. Before her tormentor could realize or move, Gareth sank teeth, grown large and deadly, into Kristof’s ankle. 111

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His shriek made her smile even as she dove at Kristof to try and distract him from revenge. She almost succeeded. Kristof faced her, but that didn’t stop him from slamming a jolt of power into Gareth that flung him across the room to smack into a wall with a resounding thud. His limp form slumped to the floor and she could only scream in grief and fury as she attacked Kristof. With anger as her shield, she hit him, and hurt him, but in the end, he still owned the upper hand. He caught her, and bent her over his arm, pinning her limbs with his own. She growled at him as he brought his face close, his icy eyes boring into hers. “And now you are mine again, little dove.” He smiled in triumph before foolishly pressing his mouth against hers. She bit his lip as her eyes roved frantically, searching for something, anything to help her escape his grip. Her eyes lit on the queen, who released from his spell, had floated down from the chandelier, and now stalked up behind him, trembling with rage. The woman he’d spurned thrust a splintered length of wood through Kristof back with an exultant, “Engagement is off, asshole!” Helen went flying as Kristof lashed out, the wound unfortunately in the wrong spot and therefore not lethal, to him at any rate. Landing on her stomach on the hard marble floor, Helen went skidding, but even in the grips of momentum, she saw as Kristof spun and strode after the Madeleine. The little queen, her gown black and burnt, stumbled back, her hands held up in a vain plea. As if Kristof would ever show mercy. Blood splattered the room as Madeleine’s head went flying, her mouth a pursed ‘O’ of surprise. A deep silence gripped the room as the remaining vampires watched Kristof flout the laws they all abided. Then they fled in a lemminglike rush, not that Kristof paid them any mind. He turned to face her, an ugly leer on his face. “Well that will make things a touch more difficult now. See what you made me do, little dove? Because of you, the council will be all over me. I’m going to punish you for that.” His slow smile spread and promised pain, a pain she remembered all too well.

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In that moment, true despair gripped Helen. It seemed her run of luck and freedom was about to end. Only feet from her lover’s prone form, she pulled her aching body over to Gareth, the blood on her hands making her slide. But she made it to him and hovered over his slack features, the blood of her injuries dripping onto him, splashing onto the gash in his neck. She leaned in close, her tears rolling down her cheeks to mix with the blood on her lips, a salty mixture that she marked him with when she kissed him. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I love you. I wish we could have had more time.” She kissed him again, his lips still warm, the exhalation of breath into her mouth a surprise. Not dead yet, but close. I can still save him. That was if vampire blood healed Lycans like it does humans. She had nothing to lose from trying, so she opened his mouth wider, and nicked her own tongue. She let her essence run into his mouth praying her healing power would aid him. To hell with the laws. To hell with the repercussions. She was a dead woman walking anyway, but Gareth still had a chance. She let her blood stream into his mouth, wanting him to take it, to give him everything she had in the hopes she could save him. However, a savage wrench of her hair and a snarled, “Slut,” tore her from her last kiss before she could see if it worked. Twisting in Kristof’s brutal grip, she strove for one last look. To her relief, she saw a pair of beautiful blue eyes blink. A moment later, she found out why a vampire should never feed a Lycan their blood. Turned out there was a really good reason. Gareth changed, and it wasn’t into his cute and cuddly wolf. “Stupid bitch,” Kristof screamed, almost spitting in his annoyance as he shook her battered body like a limp rag doll. “What’s wrong, Kristof? Are you afraid of the big, bad wolf?” Apparently, the remaining guests that stayed to watch her and Kristof fighting were scared, because while the battle and the execution of their queen left them watching with slack-jawed interest, the rampaging beast Helen had created made them flee. The fast ones, that was. The slow ones…well, she’d not often seen both arms ripped off and being used as clubs. 113

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Kristof laughed as he backed away with her. “If I’m scared, then you should be too. Are you that ignorant? A wolf on vampire blood is a danger to everyone. He’ll kill any vampire in his path.” “Good.” “Even you.” “Better than what you had planned for me, I’d say.” “Really? Why don’t we test that theory?” he snapped and then he tossed her in the direction of her lover turned ravening beast. **** First Gareth noticed the pain, kind of hard to miss with it racing through his limbs, and the more he swallowed the familiar coppery-tasting liquid in his mouth, the more the zinging pain increased. It set his limbs on fire and brought him back from the brink of death. A more familiar agony replaced the scalding of his nerves and blood as his body convulsed and changed, sprouting hair and reshaping limbs, but there all the resemblance to what he knew ended because he didn’t quite become his wolf, but neither was he a man. Caught between the two, neither side of himself fully in control, his ability to reason fled. Madness swept through him, and rage, a pure, molten fury that grew with each inhalation. He could smell the impure ones, sense them at the periphery of his vision. With a roar, he sprang to his feet and flexed his hairy, muscled arms. Kill. One thought. One urge. One need. He could see his prey, screaming with their feeble voices, scattering like mice. He would kill them all. Howling, he bounded over to the closest fleeing figure, his claws slashing through flesh, ribboning it. But the pouring blood was not enough to stem the cauldron of anger inside. More, he needed more. He waded into the bodies that didn’t flee quick enough. He tore limbs. He pounded flesh. He ripped with his teeth.

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But something nagged at the edge of his mind. Something. Someone. He needed… His eyes scanning the room caught glimpses of more of the foul ones, a pair this time. A bruised and battered female in the grips of a being that made his lips peel back in a snarl. Loping in their direction, he found his momentum halted as a blue object came hurtling at him. Out of reflex he caught the flying vampire, her frail form somehow familiar. But he smelled the taint of her blood. She was also a vampire. He raised his claw to kill when her eyes opened and peered at him. “Gareth,” she whispered. A name struggled to form in his mind, staying his hand. She blinked and a shudder went through her body. A pained gasp escaped her lips. “I’m so sorry. Run, Gareth, run while you can.” It came to him then. Helen. My mate. He held his mate all broken and bloody in his arms. He raised his head and howled, a sound that echoed around the empty ballroom. In its fading miserable sound, he heard a scrape and saw the glint of blond as it left through a shattered window. “Krrristoffff.” He lisped the word through a mouth not meant for human speech. Cradling his female to his chest, he loped after the one who needed killing most of all. His bare feet barely felt the sting of glass as shards cut his soles. He only slowed down at the pained grunt of his mate, his ragged jouncing too much for her weakened body. Outside, his eyes scanned the grounds, and he quickly caught sight of the male he wanted. Laying his mate down, he dropped his hands to the ground that he might quickly reach the foul creature that sought to escape. The foolish vampire held up a hand and thought to command him. “Stop.” Gareth slowed and stood again, but his feet kept moving, and the feral grin on his face widened as finally, he saw what he wanted. Fear on the vampire’s face. Nothing would stop him from killing the one responsible for his mate’s injuries. “She dies.”

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Taming Her Wolf

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The vampire’s words stopped him. A trick from the wily one. Or not? He sniffed the air, scenting his mate’s still spilling blood and hearing her ragged breaths as she fought for air. Fought for life. “Kill me or save her. What shall you do, dog?” The cool voice taunted him. But they also made the sane side of him struggle to surface. “Hellllen.” He whispered her name, wanting vengeance so badly, but not at the price of her life, a life he could save with blood. “Nnnot overrr.” His tongue curled around the unwieldy letters even as he whirled to rush back to her side, gashing his wrist with his teeth before he knelt at her side. He closed his ears and tamped his urge to hunt when he heard the sound of an engine starting up. Helen. Pale Helen, who lay there with her eyes shut, her chest struggling for air. She needed him more than vengeance. He placed his torn wrist over her mouth, willing her to suck. But she lay still, her heart slowing. “Nnnnoo,” he growled. Words came back to haunt him, reminding him that those who’d imbibed her blood could not feed her. The reminder made him throw back his head and unleash an unearthly howl because he could already tell his was the only blood around. And she would die before he’d make it to another. So gentle at first he didn’t notice it, her mouth moved, then latched on to suck at his offered wrist. Not daring to believe his luck, he scooped her into his lap, his monstrous arms cradling her as she took what he offered, and bit by bit he could see her regain her strength. But she stopped way too soon. Her head lolled back and though he tried to force his flesh between her lips again, she refused it, clamping her lips. “No,” she whispered. “Enough. I will survive, but if I take any more and kill you, then I don’t want to live. We should count ourselves lucky I could even take your blood in the first place. Another secret about Lycans that those in power don’t want us to know.” “Ppprincess.” He lisped the word, and stroked her matted hair with his clawed fingers. “My sweet wolf,” she murmured back. “I think we found out why the laws against our kind being together exist. Remind me to feed you more often,” she said with a wan smile. “Talk about bad ass. Kristof?” 116

Taming Her Wolf

Eve Langlais

Shame made him shake his head, but she raised a hand and cupped his cheek. “You saved me. But now, my giant Chewbacca, we need to get going before the cops come because even they can’t ignore this kind of neighborhood disturbance.” Gareth stood, feeling more like himself in mind, even if his body remained that of a monster. Holding his precious princess to his chest, he ran, but only to the nearest car. While most had fled, some less fortunate ones, whom he’d helped along to the afterlife, hadn’t and he didn’t feel any qualms at stealing their vehicle. Lucky for him, theft wasn’t high on the list of vampire traits and the keys were in the ignition. Driving in his wolfman shape proved a little challenging. He bent the steering wheel and had to recline the seat to accommodate himself, but he managed. Helen had passed out again, her low breathing the only thing that reassured him she lived. He needed to get her to safety and find her food. But he dared not return to her house, not when Kristof or the cops could come knocking. He went to the only place, or should he say, person he dared trust.

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Chapter Fourteen Blinking her eyes open, Helen stared at nothing. Darkness shrouded her so deeply she couldn’t even tell if she lay in a confined area, like a coffin or a box, or in an open space. She lifted an arm and almost immediately rapped her knuckles off wood. Before she could raise her other hand and push at the covering over her, it moved and she blinked again as a warm, glowing light erased the gloom of her makeshift tomb. “Gareth?” She spoke his name hesitantly, not sure what to expect. Last she recalled, he’d saved her from Kristof by feeding her his own blood then carrying her away. “I’m here, princess.” His familiar face, crowned with his usual mop of dark hair, came into view as he held out a hand to help her from the cave he’d made her under a bed frame and mattress. “Where is here?” she asked, noting she wore a large T-shirt of his and panties, her gown of the night before gone and her skin clean as if washed. “We’re in a motel just off the interstate. It’s where I told Jesse to go in case things got hairy.” He winked at his pun and she couldn’t help a wry smile. “I see you’ve got your beast under control. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know feeding you my blood would do that to you.” “Do what? Make me super strong? Impervious to vampire control and apparently the scariest thing they’d ever met? Did you see the little fuckers running?” “I see your conceit came through intact.” “It’s not the only thing that stayed the same. Still as horny for you as ever,” he replied with a leer that made her smile. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her. “Fuck me, princess, but you scared me last night. I thought you were going to die.” “Funny, I thought you were going do the same thing. I still can’t believe your blood managed to feed me even after you imbibed mine.”

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“I wonder what else our kind have hidden from us. Think maybe I’ll get psychic powers too if I slurp on your blood once in a while? Or a bigger dick?” he joked. She reached down to cup him. “Hmm, looks to me like you already got one.” “I love the way you think, princess. But aren’t you going to ask me what the plan is?” She reached up to cup his face, stroking his cheeks down his jaw to the still healing red gouges that marred the skin of his neck. “We run and we hide. Kristof won’t forget what happened last night.” “Won’t your council be pissed he killed the little queen? I was kind of hoping they’d keep him busy.” Shaking her head, she explained. “No, he’ll somehow blame us for the whole mess and get them focussed on the more important task of hunting us down and killing us. Actually, killing all witnesses. They won’t want the knowledge of what our blood does to Lycans getting out. We’re going to have to stay one step ahead of them from now on.” “For now. I might have an idea that if it works, will allow us to bunker down somewhere and claim it as our own. But in the meantime, prepare to get fucked in every hotel we stop at on our way down south.” “What’s south?” she asked. “Oceans and beaches, princess. Ooh, and the string bikini I’m going to buy you so you can run in the surf in the moonlight.” “You’re fucked,” she said with a soft chuckle. “Here we are, alone and running for our lives, and you make it sound like a wonderful vacation.” “Why can’t it be? Kristof only wins if we let him. And who said we’re alone? Jesse’s coming with us. Between the three of us, we’ll figure things out. Oh, and in between fucking and getting sand out of all your cracks, we need get that girl a boyfriend too. That Emmanuel guy she was dating back at the house bailed on her.” She shook her head. “Fine. I give up. I leave you in charge of our route, and our plans. But does that mean I’m in charge of sex?” She grinned at his arched brow. 119

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“You wish.” “Get those pants off and get on your back.” She pushed the command at him out of curiosity. His wide smile answered her. “I hate to break it to you, princess, but I think your days of ordering me around are over.” “And here I was hoping I’d tamed my wolf enough to ride him.” “Well, when you put it like that…” Quicker than she could have forced him, he stripped and flung himself onto the second bed, which remained intact. Laughing, she stripped off her shirt and wiggled out of her panties, the smoky look in his eyes all she needed to lube her cleft and ignite her desire. Climbing onto the bed, she straddled him, pausing so that she hung just over the tip of his straining cock. “What are you grinning like an idiot for?” she asked, planting her hands on her hips and thrusting out her chest, making her boobs jiggle. He smiled wider. “I fucking love you, princess. Do me a favor, keep your hands on your hips like that when you ride me. I want to see your tits bounce.” “Dog.” “Wolf, your wolf, and I don’t care if we need to go to hell and back to stay together because you are mine, princess. Forever.” His eyes turned dark and serious, as he spoke from the heart, a sentiment she reciprocated. “Forever,” she echoed before she sank down onto his waiting cock. God, it felt good, stretching her channel, filling her up. She slid forward on him, then back, the friction against her clit making her moan. She went to move her hands forward to brace them on his chest, but he clamped his hands over them, locking them into place. Holding onto her, he helped her move, rocking her onto his shaft, grinding her against him so that he pushed deeper and deeper inside. She’d not forgotten his request, though, and she made sure to let her breasts bounce to his sultry-eyed enjoyment. With him watching her so ardently, and his dick filling her so completely, it didn’t take her long to come screaming. In that moment of pure bliss and connection, she could forget the 120

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uncertainty of their future and the danger that lay ahead. No matter what happened, she and her wolf would face it together.

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Epilogue As Gareth held her in his arms, one last comforting moment before he hid her from the dawn’s harsh rays, he couldn’t help but wonder at the turn his life had taken. Captured and tamed by a vampire. Not just any vampire, but his mate. Talk about fucked up. However, he wouldn’t change a damned thing. Sure they currently ran and he didn’t know what the future held for them. Danger for sure. Fucking, most definitely. But he could handle just about anything but heartache. He loved his princess, cold on the outside, hiding a warm heart and passionate nature inside. He’d do anything to keep her safe. Anything. Gareth knew he could only feed her alone for a short while before weakening. Common sense dictated she needed more blood than what he could give her. She’d get it too. From humans for now, ones he deemed safe, until he could put in play a plan that was slowly taking form in his head. Knowing what vampire blood could do to a Lycan; the strength he’d gained during that blood lust moment, the ability to fight compulsion, these were important facts. Facts he would use in selecting a more permanent solution to their arrangement. A solution that would see them stop running and taking a stand. She’d tamed one wolf with her perfect nature, surely she could tame another, or two, or as many as it took to keep her safe because even Kristof and the vampire council would hesitate to act if faced with a Lycan squad, crazy and enraged from tasting vampire blood. I love you, princess, but if I’ve got to share you with another shape-shifter to keep you safe, then so be it. Now he just needed to convince Helen of the benefits of a threesome or a moresome. He somehow doubted that conversation would go over well. But if all else failed, that was what handcuffs and showing by example were for. Surely after a few orgasms, she’d come around to his way of thinking. If not, he and whomever he chose to partner with them would just keep making her come, and come again. Fuck, the things he had to do to keep his princess safe. 122

Taming Her Wolf

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The End…Or is it? Stay tuned in 2012 for the exciting sequel, Sharing His Vampiress

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TuÉâà à{x Tâà{ÉÜ Hello, my name is Eve. I’m a stay at home mom who works as a webmistress/customer service rep, and in between juggling my three kids, hubby, and housework, I write really raunchy stuff—usually with werewolves. Lol. I was born in British Columbia, but being a military brat, I have lived a little bit everywhere—Quebec, New Brunswick, Labrador, Virginia (USA) and finally Ontario. My family and I currently reside in the historic town of Bowmanville, about an hour or so outside of Toronto. I am the first person to admit I am totally boring and lead a mundane life. Seriously. My idea of fun is shopping at our local Walmart. I like to play video games, cook, and read. My inspiration, hmm, I guess you could say hubby as he is a total alpha male which means I often want to club him over the head with a frying pan. But, despite his ornery, ‘I-am-man’ nature, I love him dearly. I do have a twisted imagination and a sarcastic sense of humor, something I like to let loose in my writing. I tend to have a lot of sexual tension in my tales because I think all torrid love affairs start with a tingle in our tummies. And when my characters do finally give in to the needs of their flesh? Well, let’s just say, you shouldn’t be reading my stuff at work. The door is wide open, explicit, and hot. Really, really hot. Thanks so much for reading this book. I wish you many hours of happy reading—and sexy times with your partner. Eve Langlais If you want to get to know her better, visit her website at http://www.Evelanglais.com or friend her on FaceBook.