Claiming His Fate (5 page)

“Eighteen.” Gates leaned forward.

“Eighteen-fifty.” Burly chuckled.

Gates stood and approached the other shifter, letting his wolf out as he walked. I didn't need to see his face to know what the other man was getting a glimpse of. Gates was over four hundred years old and trained in just about every fighting style known to man or beast. He owned the title of pretty-boy in our group, but he was also one of the deadliest motherfuckers I'd ever known. If the other shifter was getting a glimpse at Gates' dark side, at the demon within the man, he was seeing his own death on a magazine-worthy face.

“Twenty-five thousand,” Gates growled in burly's face. The other wolf trembled, battling with himself over whether to challenge or submit. But in the end, he sat back with a huff.

Gates visibly shook himself before turning to Cherry with a smile. “If you would please accompany my friend and me, I believe we’ve earned a private suite.”

Gates held out his hand for Cherry. She made a choking sound in the back of her throat as her eyes met mine. So much fear. She was positively panicking. My wolf crashed against my consciousness, trying to break through, to get to his mate. But I had to hold him in check. She was already scared enough.

“This way.” Morris exited the room, leading us down the hall to one of the doors we'd passed earlier. He showed us inside with a flourish then quickly disappeared, shutting the door behind him. The room was relatively simple in its furnishings: bed, couch, small bathroom…chains. 

When Cherry noticed the manacles hanging from the ceiling, she cried out and turned toward the door. “I can't. I've never… I'll have Mr. Morris get your money back. Please.”

I exhaled a huge breath, thankful this wasn't something she normally participated in. She'd been so scared this whole time; it would have killed me to know she went through that on a regular basis. But at least she knew I was a shifter. Morris had said the girls were aware of our dual natures. Knowing she wouldn’t run away screaming when I told her about me gave me a little more confidence that I could convince her to be mine.

“Cherry.” The word slipped past my lips unbidden. She stopped immediately and glanced at me, her heart rate still too high for a human. “We’re not here to hurt you or to make you do”—I waved at the room—“any of this. You’re safe with us.”

She crossed her arms and dropped her gaze to the floor. “Then why did you buy me?”

I glanced at Gates who stared back at me, silent. I could have lied, could have told her whatever I thought she needed to hear to calm down. 

But instead, I shrugged and told her the truth. 

“Because you're meant to be mine.”

SIX

Cherry

He was insane. Gorgeous and drool-worthy, but obviously certifiable. Some kind of hot, biker sociopath. Or was it a psychopath? Whatever. I was never going to be seen again. 

“…you’re meant to be mine.”

Bullshit. 

“I want to go ho—”

“Did anyone hurt themselves earlier in the evening?” The dark-haired guy interrupted me, all smooth voice with a slight accent. His good looks didn’t affect me, at least not as much as the other one. I saw past the dark hair and blue eyes on this one, could tell something scary lurked below the pretty face. 

“How would I know?” I crossed my arms and backed up against the door.

He held up his hands and took a step back. “Forgive my rudeness. My name is Gates, and I mean you no harm. It's just that we smelled blood and thought someone had been injured. It's unusual to spill blood in a place like this, is it not?”

I shrugged. “What's unusual is to be forced into some kind of prostitution ring instead of being able to go home. What's unusual is the way every hair on my body stood on end when I walked into that room back there. What's unusual is this guy”—I pointed at the blond hottie—“making some kind of ownership claim on me. Blood? Blood could be spilled for any number of reasons, from an accident in the kitchen to a kinky customer. Blood's not unusual.”

With a small smirk on his face, Gates glanced at the blond. “Well then, I do believe I’ve served my purpose. I think I'll take my leave and see if there's anything else I can find out.”

He took a step toward me. I jumped out of his way, knocking into the chains hanging from the ceiling and making them rattle. My heart jumped at the sound and my hand flew to my chest. 

The blond one reached a hand toward me. “Are you okay?”

I closed my eyes as heat and lust burned through me. His voice was deadly. It calmed me and yet scattered my thoughts away from the tension of my situation. It made me want to pull my blond fantasy man toward me so I could feel the warmth of his skin against mine and taste his words as they left his lips. Nothing mattered—not how we’d come to be in this room together nor his claim on me. The only thing my body cared about was getting as up close and personal with the man who made that sound as quickly as possible.

My eyes popped open at the click of the door closing behind Gates. I was alone…

With the guy who made my heart race and my pussy clench without ever touching me.

Rebel

Good God, her scent. I wanted to breathe it, taste it, bathe in it. I wanted it all over me, and I wanted my scent all over her. The urge to mark her with my bite was strong but understandable. I wanted every wolf in this building to know she was mine. 

“So, what now?” Her voice came out a little breathy and deep, a sense of heat over wariness. But the scent of her fear had lessened the moment Gates left, replaced by the honeyed notes of her arousal. The fragrance called to me and drove my wolf mad with want. It meant she felt the mating pull like I did, experienced the drive to bond with me as the fates prescribed. She just wasn’t ready to give in to it yet.

“For now, we wait until my brothers can figure out a way to get you out of here. Speaking of my brothers, what happened to the man I sent to guard you?”

“He dropped us off in the changing room and said he’d be outside the door.” She shrugged. “He must not have realized there was a second entrance to the room.”

I held back the roar building in my chest so as not to scare her again. Fucking Pup would be driving the war wagon for the next month for not securing the room. 

“I’m sorry. He should’ve been more careful with you.”

She rolled her eyes then turned and glanced around the room. Nervous, but seemingly not afraid of me, which was good.

“Do you do this often?” She wasn't looking at me as she asked the question, but her posture and body language spoke volumes. She wanted to know more about me, at least parts of me. This was her way of initiating those awkward dating-experience conversations humans felt necessary when beginning a relationship. But our relationship was already mapped out and approved by fate; there was no need for small talk. 

“Do what? Rescue beautiful women?” I smirked when she turned. She wore a small glare on her face, but her heart rate increased as her eyes met mine. Her breathing picked up speed, and mine followed, matching her rhythm. Already my body responded to hers, adjusting for her comfort, altering in small ways to please her. I really wanted a chance to please her.

She huffed. “You call it rescue; I call it buying yourself a date.” Her eyebrows rose, a challenge offered. I settled against the corner of the bed, my body relaxed, accepting what she gave me.

“I don't need to buy my dates, and that wasn't what we were doing.”

She dropped her eyes to the floor, hiding her beautiful face behind her hair. “Sure looked like it from where I stood.”

The sudden sadness in her voice beckoned me to comfort her. I approached slowly, my wolf’s need to stalk his prey making my footfalls soft and silent. We were the hunter and she the hunted, and she knew it. She gasped and trembled, though not in fright. There was no fear on the air, no scent of panic. Only her desire teased me, made me hungry for her, and made me want her to accept being mine. 

Her eyes grew wider as I stopped with my body barely brushing hers. I liked the feel of her breasts against my chest, of her flesh touching mine. So much so, I inched a bit closer so I could graze my cock against her soft stomach.

“I’m not here to buy affection from women who care for my wallet over any other part of me. I’m here because you’re in danger. Do you know about the girl who was clawed by some kind of wild animal?”

She licked her lips and brought her hands up to grip my arms. “I think I heard some talk about it. Cinnamon said the girl worked here, though I never met her.”

I growled low in my throat, wanting to calm any residual nervousness. Her eyes glazed over as the sound caressed her ears. When she sighed and leaned into me, I took advantage of our nearness to run my fingers over her skin. Up her arm and around her shoulder, ending with my hand against her neck.

“Yes, she worked here, which tells me there could be something wrong going on in this place. More wrong than you being paraded in front of a bunch of men”—I fingered the tiny strap of the nearly transparent garment hanging from her shoulders—“wearing only this.”

She tilted her head back and looked up at me, her eyes wary. “Waitressing is wrong? Because that's what I do here. I serve drinks.” She waved a hand down her body. “All this is window dressing.”

“And lovely window dressing it is. But what was going on in that room was more than waitressing.”

She took a step away from me, breaking our physical connection. I nearly whined at the loss of her heat. 

“Yeah, well, that’s not something I do. If Morris hadn't forced me—”

I snarled and clenched my hands into fists. “He forced you? How?”

Her eyebrows puckered and her lips thinned into a hard line. “I wasn't given a choice. I'm a waitress. I don't even dance. I sure as hell was not prepared to sell myself for the night.”

I eased closer and lowered my voice. “But Morris made you?”

“He didn't give me a choice.” She brushed her hand against the side of her face.

Her eyes portrayed a sadness that spoke to something inside of me, something purely human. I wanted to save her, to protect her. To keep all the bad things far away from her. I never wanted to see that sad look in her eyes again.

I slid my fingers around her wrist and slowly pulled her hand away from where it rested against her cheek. That’s when I saw the mark, a dark spot on the edge of her jawline. 

“What's this?” 

She turned her head and bit her lip but didn’t answer me. I gently moved her chin around and wiped my knuckles against the shadow. As her makeup came off on my skin, the dark spot grew larger and darker. 

Someone had hit her.

“Who did this?” My voice was a deep, throaty rumble. My wolf wanted his turn, needed vengeance on whoever harmed his mate, but I fought the instinct. Even though she knew what I was, seeing me shift could terrify her. 

When she tried to pull away, I kept a soft grip on her wrist to keep her near me. This wasn’t about power or seduction, this was about her protection. And though I could already guess at who in the club would be coward enough to hit a woman, I needed this answer. 

“Who, Cherry? Tell me.”

She ducked her head, her hair falling over her face. I slid my fingers along her skin and gently tucked the hair behind her ear.

 She shook her head and whispered, “He didn't give me a choice.”

My wolf raged as she confirmed my assumptions. The sear of the change flared through my body, burning hotter than ever before. I had to get out of there; I had to get away so I didn't scare her. 

And then I had to kill the bastard who had dared to lay a finger on my mate.

“Morris is a dead man.”

SEVEN

Cherry

Oh lord, that growly thing he did with his voice. I needed him to do it again, do it louder and longer. Preferably while his face was between my legs. 

I licked my lips and fought the desire trying to control my body. “You can't kill him.”

His eyes, so pale and wild, met mine. “No one touches what's mine.”

Even through the cloud of lust I seemed to be floating in, I heard his words. I couldn’t allow him to think he owned me. I’d already had one man telling me what to do; I didn’t need another one.

“I'm not yours.”

He let out some kind of noise that sounded oddly like a whimper. It tugged at my heart and almost made me want to take back the words that hurt him. 

“I want you to be.” He reached up and wrapped his hand around my neck, tugging me closer. “I want you to give me the chance to show you how much you already mean to me.” 

“But you don’t know me.” My heart picked up speed, fluttering in my chest. Oh, his smell, his voice. Everything about him was like a riptide, pulling me under. Being around this man made me want to do dirty, dirty things to him…and let him do the same things to me. 

He bent his head, his lips brushing against my jaw in an almost-there kiss that set my skin on fire. “I just want a chance to make you happy. Is that so wrong?” 

I gasped and slid my hands under his leather vest, fisting his shirt, pulling him closer. 

“Is that why you bought me?”

He licked a trail down my throat and nuzzled under my ear. “I bought you to keep from killing any man in that room who would have dared lay a finger on you when you obviously didn't want them to. Nothing more.”

His teeth brushing against my skin broke my resolve, and I surrendered to my lust for him. 

“But what if I wanted more?”

He pulled his head from my neck and looked me in the eye. His were dark, his pupils so large there was only a small line of light blue around the edges. He made that noise again, the rumble from deep inside him. I leaned my head against his shirt, pressing my ear to his chest. Yep, definitely a growl. A deep, dark, animalistic growl that sent shivers racing up and down my spine. And it was such a goddamn turn-on. 

“I’ll give you anything you want, Cherry.” His hands trailed up my arms, brushing the sides of my breasts along the way. “I'll give you anything you need.”