Ivan's Captive Submissive (Submissive's Wish) (36 page)

“I love you, Ivan. More than I thought I could ever love anyone. And that scares me.”

His eyes flashed in the dim lighting of the bedroom. “I will never hurt you.”

She smiled at him and the shadows left his gaze. “I know.”

As she snuggled against him she let out a long, easy breath and melted into his arms. He held her close, his big body guarding hers as his breath whispered over her neck. She thought of all that had happened, all the highs and lows they’d been through together, and wouldn’t change a single thing because it all led up to this perfect moment of being in the arms of the man she’d been waiting for her whole life.

THE END

A Thank you from Fated Desires

Thank you so much for reading Ivan’s Captive Submissive! We’re so happy to be able to show you a hint of what is to come from our sexy new BDSM line. We do hope if you liked this, that you would please leave a review from where you purchased this or on anther platform such as GoodReads. Not only does a review spread the word to other readers, they let us know if you’d like to see more stories like this from us. Ann loves to hear from readers and talks to them when she can. You can reach her through her 
website
 and through her 
Facebook
 and 
Twitter
 accounts. You guys are the reason we get to do what we do and we thank you.

If you are looking for more stories like these, you don’t have to wait much longer! Ann is cooking up new works in this series and a few others. Also, we have a few new authors coming that will be sure to whet your appetite.

If you’d like to know more about 
Fated Desires
, check out our website or email us at 
[email protected]
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About the Author

With over thirty published books, Ann is Queen of the Castle to her wonderful husband and three sons in the mountains of West Virginia. In her past lives she's been an Import Broker, a Communications Specialist, a US Navy Civilian Contractor, a Bartender/Waitress, and an actor at the Michigan Renaissance Festival. She also spent a summer touring with the Grateful Dead-though she will deny to her children that it ever happened.

From a young age she's been fascinated by myths and fairytales, and the romance that was often the center of the story. As Ann grew older and her hormones kicked in, she discovered trashy romance novels. Great at first, but she soon grew tired of the endless stories with a big wonderful emotional buildup to really short and crappy sex. Never a big fan of purple prose, throbbing spears of fleshy pleasure and wet honey pots make her giggle, she sought out books that gave the sex scenes in the story just as much detail and plot as everything else-without using cringe worthy euphemisms. This led her to the wonderful world of Erotic Romance, and she's never looked back.

Now Ann spends her days trying to tune out cartoons playing in the background to get into her 'sexy space' and has accepted that her Muse has a severe case of ADD.

Ann loves to talk with her fans, as long as they realize she's weird and that sarcasm doesn't translate well via text.

Also from this Author

Submissive’s Wish

Ivan’s Captive Submissive

Virtual Seduction

Sodom and Detroit

Sodom and the Phoenix

Prides of the Moon

Amber Moon

Emerald Moon

Turquoise Moon

Amethyst Moon

Onyx Moon

Opal Moon

Prides of the Moon

For the Love of Evil

Daughter of Lust

Princess of Lust

Ultimate Fantasy

Scandalous Wish

Pursued by the Prisoner

Club Wicked

My Wicked Valentine

My Wicked Nanny

My Wicked Devil

My Wicked Trainers

Sam and Cody

Want

Cherish

Adore

Other Titles

Blushing Violet

Wild Lilly

The Breaker’s Concubine

Peppermint Passion

The Bodyguards Princess

Diamond Heart

Sensation Play

Summer’s Need

Still

Guarding Hope

Did you enjoy this selection? Why not try another romance from Fated Desires?

From USA Today Bestselling Author Carrie Ann Ryan’s Dante’s Circle Series

An Unlucky Moon

Chapter One

The fiery depths of hell were a cool afterthought compared to the torment of what lay before him. Hunter Brooks ducked the punch aimed at his head and rolled to the ground, coming up on his feet a few yards away. He never let his gaze leave his opponent, even as he moved his arm to stop a kick to the neck.

The low roll of thunder in the distance set his wolf on edge, but he tamped it down. The rain would come eventually, and Hunter wanted to make sure he was done with this before then. The circle was already a mud pit, the wet sludge clinging to his torn jeans—he didn’t want to deal with more of that.

His wolf brushed along the inside of his skin, an animalistic presence that wanted revenge, blood, and death.

The man within him wanted the same thing.

The other wolf came at him at his fastest speed, but Hunter was faster. His hands shifted to claws, and he slashed out, catching the other wolf along the shoulder. His opponent screamed as blood seeped from the deep wound, but Hunter didn’t care. He squeezed his fingers together, cutting the other man deeper.

His opponent met his gaze, the anger all but lashing out at him.

Hunter had seen the depravity of a winged demon bent on quenching its thirst and lust on decaying corpses within the depths of the gladiator games.

This wolf had nothing on that.

His opponent slashed his claws down Hunter’s side, but Hunter moved too fast for the other wolf to break the skin.

He’d spent enough time playing around with this wolf, allowing him to
think
he actually had a chance. Hunter lifted a lip and showed fang, growling deep within his chest. The air around him seemed to freeze, and time stood still.

Hunter cocked his head to the side as fear seeped into the other wolf’s eyes. Finally, the other wolf knew its life relied on Hunter’s mercy.

The others called Hunter an animal.

They called him depraved.

Soulless.

Yes, this wolf had something to fear, but death would not be among them.

Not today.

Hunter kicked out then twisted, causing the other wolf to fall to his knees in pain. He gripped the bastard by the neck and squeezed. 

“Forfeit,” Hunter growled, his voice scraping against his throat from lack of use.

The other wolf’s eyes rolled back, and then he slammed his hand to the ground twice.

The murmurs and howls around them forced Hunter to look at the crowd. He and the other wolf stood in the center of the Nocturne Pack circle, blood and mud covering their bodies and worn jeans. Other members of his Pack growled around them. Some had looks of relief on their faces. Others held a bit of fear…or anger.

The latter would have to be dealt with soon.

“Matthew calls forfeit,” Liam Murray, council member and one-time friend, called out. “It is up to Hunter whether to call death, but the circle has chosen. Hunter is our Beta.”

“As it should have been in the first place,” Josiah, their Alpha, spat. “I have spoken and the circle has agreed. My choice reigns.”

“For now,” Dorian Masterson whispered, though Hunter wasn’t sure if anyone else had heard the bastard.

Hunter had keener senses than most wolves due to his bloodline and destiny. His stint in the gladiator games of hell had only honed them stronger. He’d been back only a month, and he still didn’t feel as though he fit in his skin. Everything had changed in his absence.

The council had grown with more power. His Alpha had grown weaker without Hunter there to protect him. Josiah’s last protector had perished

Samuel…Samuel, Hunter’s brother, had died protecting the Alpha when the council had tried to take over.

None of it made sense to Hunter. He’d fought for his life countless times and killed so many demons and other supernaturals that he wasn’t sure the blood would ever leave his hands, yet when he’d returned to the human realm, he’d faced another battle.

His own Pack.

Hunter rolled his shoulders then stalked toward his Alpha, who stood surrounded by the five council members. That alone pissed him off to no end. The council should have no place near the Alpha. There were only advisors on good days and whispers on bad ones.

Yet they stood there and had demanded a fight to the death to secure the position of Beta.

A position that Samuel had held.

A position Hunter had held before he’d been taken by the demons and forced to serve.

He knelt in front of his alpha, glaring at the others as he did so.

“My Alpha,” Hunter grumbled then turned his head to the side to bare his neck. Others gasped around him, but he ignored them. They
should
have been the ones to bare their necks, but they’d become lax in their duties and rituals.

They’d thought the Pack was a democracy.

They would soon be proven wrong.

Josiah put his hand on Hunter’s shoulder and nodded. “You’re a fine Beta, Hunter. You will make me proud. You
make
me proud.”

Something warm started to fill him, piercing through the ice at his Alpha’s words, then dissipated. His wolf howled within him and hardened against the intrusion. No, it wouldn’t do any good to warm at his Alpha’s words.

Hunter wasn’t a warm man. He was a killer—his Alpha’s killer. He’d been raised to be that wolf, and he’d fulfilled that promise in hell. Now he was back within the confines of his Pack and ready to kill again.

Or at least that’s what he told himself.

“Hunter, good fight,” Alec Brennan, another of Hunter’s one-time friends and council members, said as he slapped his shoulder. “You almost killed that Lloyd wolf.” A vicious gleam entered Alec’s eyes, and Hunter grunted.

“Let the wolf live in his memory of defeat,” Hunter growled. “I’m not in the mood to kill a useless slug who isn’t worthy of the title Beta.”

“Watch what you say about my son,” Gregory Lloyd snarled. The older council member tried to come at him, his teeth bared, but Alistair Jacobs—the remaining council member—held him back.

“It would do no good to fight like animals,” Alistair drawled. “We might have the wolves at our beck and call, but we
will
remain civilized.”

Hunter snorted at that. There had to be over a hundred wolves surrounding them in human form, each shirtless, ready to shift if necessary. Each adult male—and some of the juveniles—were marred with scars and tattoos that celebrated their victories in battle.

At any moment, since the circle was over, they could break out in brawls to release the tension. 

There were only two ways to release the tension riding through their bodies—fighting and sex. As wolves, they didn’t care about privacy and modesty. If there was a woman—or a man if that was their inclination—in front of them, they’d fuck them hard, letting the stress and worries from the day seep away. 

Since there were no willing partners at the moment, Hunter was sure a fight would break out soon. Blood and sweat would soon permeate through the air, filling Hunter’s nostrils to override the stench of betrayal and anger that poured from the wolves that had lost their hope today.

Today, like most other days, fighting would rule over sex.

The females were back in their homes—what few females they had. Wolves were born, not bitten, in their world, unlike what the fandoms believed. Though it was easy to get pregnant, it was hard as hell to keep that baby and even harder to produce a girl.

Their absence at the circle meeting had been the council’s decision, not the Alpha’s. Their history had always held their woman in deep respect. Not only were they wolves in their own right, but strong fighters as well. They were feared among the men if someone threatened their pup.

Yet the council had declared them weak in Hunter’s four-year absence. Apparently the women—and men—who had fought back against the council taking over had been beaten or killed.

Nothing was right in the Nocturne Pack. 

Hunter kept blaming the council for all of it, but he knew it wasn’t the five of them. No, it was three of them who held the power—or at least thought they did.

For now.

“Come on,” Liam whispered. “Let’s look at those cuts of yours at my place.  It will rain soon anyway. I’d prefer not to get my hair wet.” He grinned at his last remark, but Hunter didn’t respond. Unspoken was their need to talk about the undercurrents within the circle.

Hunter had been back in the human realm for a full month, yet change took time. After Ambrose, Jamie, and Balin—and of course the young demon, Fawkes—had rescued him from the depths of hell, he’d returned to the realm he’d grown up in. 

Unlike most supernaturals, wolf shifters and some other types of shifters, lived within the human realm but were hidden deep within the forests. Their own magic kept the humans away and their secrets buried. Other supernaturals lived in other realms that were accessible through only the human realm. It was as if the humans themselves were the glue that held everyone together.

Fitting considering the humans weren’t really humans at all but merely diluted down versions of supernaturals themselves. They didn’t know the things that went bump in the night were real and had no idea that, within themselves, they held the ability to change into another being…if something were to alter their course that is.

Hunter had grown up with the humans around him and his Pack at his side. They might be dark and depraved in the best of times, but he’d loved them like his own.