Predator's Claim (17 page)

Charlotte’s back bristled with nervous energy, and she wanted to slap Flynn across the face for challenging her man. Her man? Okay, whatever he was. How dare he?

Bart stood up tall and straight, and seemed taller than usual. He pinned his gaze on his cousin. “You don’t mean that. I am the leader of this pack, and I have its confidence.”

And just like that, the pack members began to shift into wolf form and bowed their furry heads to him. Lena and Nate quickly doffed their clothing, shifted, and did the same, bowing low to their brother. One by one, each pack member followed suit.

All except Flynn, who seemed more dazed than angry now, and Fletcher, who stood completely still, his eyes wide with shock.

The majesty of the moment was not lost on Charlotte. As surprised, and frankly horrified, as Bart appeared, there was something distinctly regal in his bearing and the arch of his brow as he surveyed all the canine figures bent before him. He narrowed his eyes at Flynn and then turned to her.
Charlotte, I want you out of here
.

I’m not going.

I don’t want you to see this.

I’m not leaving you
.

Lost in his dark eyes, she couldn’t remove her gaze from his. With every blink, she tried to muster up the strength to drag her gaze away, but couldn’t. In that moment, Bart Cairo acted as a magnet to her cold heart, and she felt attached to his hard, muscled form. Drawn to him, she didn’t have the wherewithal to leave his vicinity and knew in that moment she’d die before she let anything bad happen to him. His Alpha power filled her with desire and hope, and she wanted nothing more than to spirit him away from this scene, lay before him, and offer him all she had. Her body, her brain, her dreams. She wanted to spread her legs to him, welcome him into her soul, and be joined to him forever.

My mate
.

“Well, isn’t this special?” Flynn mocked, gleaning their silent conversation. “You know, I hate to stand in the way of true love and all that crap.”

“Flynn,” Fletcher warned. “Watch it, bro…”

Flynn turned to his brother, and Charlotte could almost see their own wordless conversation from the way they held their heads, from the way their eyes widened and narrowed on each other.

Flynn turned back to Bart. “My parents had true love. They adored each other.” He turned on Joseph. “And you took it away from them.” He paused, flexing his muscles and clenching his fists. He turned to her. “Did Bart even tell you how my mother died? Huh?”

She shook her head.

“She wasted away without my father. None of us could help her overcome her grief, not even her sons. Day by day, we watched her dwindle and fade, losing strength and energy and the will to live. Without my dad, without her mate, she didn’t have the ability to carry on.”

Damn, she knew full well the connection between mated shifters, had seen it in her friends and family. A life-long bond, the death of one partner could easily spell the demise of the other. In fact, if Charlotte thought hard about it, she didn’t know any widowed shifters. Sure, she’d heard about mates who passed away after one partner died, but had never known anyone involved in such a travesty. It was the saddest thing she’d ever heard.

And her worst fear. To love someone so much…that you’d die if you lost him.

As the next moments passed, as if in gut-wrenching slow motion, Charlotte watched in horror as Flynn shifted, let out a fearsome howl, and bared his teeth at Joseph. He crouched down low, preparing to fight, and leaped toward the former Alpha.

Joseph didn’t waste a moment. Bart’s dad had already shifted into his own terrible wolf and got ready to defend himself. As Flynn flew at him, biting the air in anticipation of biting him, Joseph bared his own set of admirable fangs.

Bart cried out. “Dad, no!”

As Flynn rammed his uncle, Joseph braced himself. The two wolves reeled from the heavy impact and began to roll, tussling with each other. Charlotte had never heard such frightening sounds as Joseph’s and Flynn’s teeth tearing at each other. Somewhere next to her, she became aware of Bart shifting into his raging wolf, ready to defend his father. Even still, the sounds of his clothes ripping and tearing could not mask the sounds coming from the warring wolves in front of her. Bart moved, taking up an offensive stance, and she feared for his life.

A terrifying moan rent the air, and she jumped, trying desperately to see what was happening in the blur of fur and blood. When she saw Joseph on the ground, his throat raw and bleeding, an altogether human scream escaped her. Flynn reared back, his mouth drenched in crimson rage.

For a second, no one moved. Even Bart, whose wolf body quivered with the need to wreak havoc, stilled and stared, unsure of his dad’s state.

Flynn chose that instant to send out a telepathic message to the assembled pack.
I’m your Alpha now
.

Bart’s eyes glowed almost orange and his voice sounded hollow and malevolent, even though his words weren’t spoken aloud.
You’ll never be our Alpha, you utter waste of space
.

With that, he flew at Flynn. While several pack members ran to Joseph, others stood still, frozen by shock. Charlotte, however, was galvanized into action by the sight of Bart battling his cousin. With a shudder, she shrugged out of her coat and allowed the hairs on her wolf body to burst through her human skin, and her body dropped to the ground as her clothes went flying from her frame. As she endured the bizarre transformation that had always set her apart from humans, she jolted and coughed. Within seconds, her strangled shouts became the haunting howls of a large wolf. She tracked a bloodied Bart as he tackled his cousin yet again, and prepared to launch her own attack on Flynn.

How dare he hurt Bart’s family in this way? She’d make him feel pain.

But as she rushed forward, another anguished cry pierced the night. She stopped in her tracks, each muscle shaking, worried Flynn has bested Bart.

He hadn’t. Flynn lay on the snowy ground, shuddering. He was wounded and bleeding, but alive.

Bart fell back, still in wolf form, his eyes wide and amazed as he stared at his bloodied cousin. Charlotte trotted over to him. Eager to calm him in some way, she licked his face and removed Flynn’s vile blood from his countenance. His chest plagued by shaky breaths, he bumped his head against hers.

Charlotte. Get me out of here before I kill him.

Okay. I will. Let’s just make sure everyone is okay.
She licked his nose and he leaned into her caress.

Aware of movement to her right, Charlotte looked over to Joseph. He already fared better. Although his wound appeared deadly, and might have been to a human, he was sitting up and letting Shirley fuss over him. Flynn must not have injured him too badly.

As for Flynn, he stood, moaning in his wolf voice. Fletcher ran over and propped him up. Fearing retaliation from Fletcher, Charlotte kept her gaze honed on him. However, still in dazed human guise, the other cousin simply nodded his head toward Bart. “I’m sorry…my Alpha.”

Bart merely stared for a moment, but then acknowledged his words with a blink.
Get him out of here
.

They watched as Fletcher led Flynn away.

Nate and Lena moved to comfort their dad, nuzzling his head. Other pack members did the same. But Bart did not follow their lead. He fell back on his haunches, staring into the blazing bonfire. His gaze seemed to land on a flickering piece of ash as it wended its way up into the sky. With his chin lifted, his eyes wild, Bart let out a mournful howl that shook the trees.

Charlotte held firm at Bart’s side. As her heart stopped and started with dread, she leaned against him, nuzzling her head against his strong shoulders, willing to do anything to give him comfort. They both shifted into their human shapes. He started and sucked in a breath, as if coming out of a coma, and looked at her. He reached for her discarded coat and wrapped it around her. As he did, he slid his arms around her shoulders, holding her tightly to him. Her wolf scraped against her insides, wanting so badly to touch him properly, intimately. She wound her arms around his taut waist. Only then did she feel a crack in his armor. A tremor passed through his big frame, and she held him tight, knowing the white knight was about to tumble off his charger.

“Bart,” she whispered into the crick of his neck. “Are you okay?”

“I almost killed my own cousin. I would have killed him. If he’d been sober…”

“You didn’t kill him. Although I don’t think anyone would have faulted you if you had.” She let out a nervous laugh. “I almost did, myself.”

“Charles…” He shook his head, forlorn.

Her heart sank because she knew, despite Bart’s profession, there wasn’t a violent bone in his body. He might be the sort of man to defend his woman and family, to the death even, but he would never seek out an unnecessary quarrel. Something had changed in him already. The Alpha in him had already presented itself, and his intimidating wolf demanded more of an outlet with each passing minute.

As much as the changes thrilled her, because he was coming into his own, they scared her too. Because the closer he got to fulfilling his destiny, the sooner she’d be faced with the now-agonizing decision: hurt him now, or hurt him later? Surely she’d damage him either way.

She loved him. It had to be love. A part of her knew it always had been. She’d always run from Bart, knowing her feelings for him but too scared to confront them. He terrified her with the way he saw into her soul. It had been so long since she’d revealed herself with any amount of intimacy to anyone, and she’d convinced herself love wasn’t for her.

So what did she do now?

She supposed she’d do what she always did. Love ’em and leave ’em. It was all she knew.

She bit back the sprout of anxiety, realizing it had already morphed into a tumor of near-panic. For the first time, Charlotte wondered if she could continue to share his bed for a while. Just a few nights with him. Just a few wondrous evenings to tuck into her memory banks and savor later. Would it be so bad? Probably. But she was beginning to think she couldn’t leave him without fully surrendering to him first.

Just a few nights of pulse-pounding, earth-shattering loving to feed her broken heart. And then she’d go and let him have the kind of life he was meant to lead.

Chapter 9

Within minutes, they were at Bart’s cabin, staring at each other outside his door. As she reached for his hands to stroke them, something in his face crumpled. He didn’t meet her gaze, as if ashamed of what he’d done and what he might do.

“That wasn’t me back there.”

She peered into his shadowed eyes. “Yes, it was. And I’m so proud of you.”

“How could you be proud of such violence?”

“Like it or not, Bart, our world is a violent one. And you took care of your pack. You put your life on the line for them.” She swallowed, amazed at the sore thickness of her throat. “But I’ll be honest and admit I’m glad you’re a strong fighter, and that Flynn was drunk.” She let out a nervous laugh.

He cupped her face with two hands, his breath coming in erratic bursts. “I’d lay my life down for you, Charlotte.” He rested his forehead on hers. “I’d do anything for you, my mate.”

My mate
. No, she couldn’t say the words out loud. Better to do what always came easiest for her: deflect through sex. “Let me do something for you now.”

With that, she grabbed his key out of his hand and unlocked his door. Once she opened it, she pushed him gently inside. Bart licked his lips, and his breaths now escaped in pants. As a tingle of excitement danced up her spine, she closed the door behind them and backed him against the nearest wall. Stopping only to toss away the clothing they’d picked up from the bonfire scene, she knelt before him.

For a moment, Charlotte didn’t move. She just knelt there, her head bowed, in total submission. Her heart pounded with a foreign happiness.

Only when he curled his fingers in her hair did she look up.

“Take me in your mouth, beautiful.”

She smiled, so eager to make him feel good. And she knew one or two things about making a man feel good. He wasn’t the only one with tricks up his sleeve.

Her fingers trembling with need, Charlotte encircled his length, amazed she could fit both her hands on him. Gently, she caressed his stiff cock, so gratified to feel it swell and pulse in her hands. When his head fell back, his eyes closed, she removed her hands. Bart’s head snapped back up as if worried she’d disappear.

With another little grin to make him crazy, she opened her mouth and wet her lips. Moving with a slowness programmed to drive him over the sensual edge, she took his cock into the warmth of her mouth. Swallowing him as far as she could, breathing through her nose, she closed her lips around the base of his shaft.

And stopped moving.

She could feel he was tempted to thrust, the desire to move transparent in the tremors at his knees. However, he held back, following her lead. She didn’t lick, didn’t suck, just held him captive in the welcoming cavity of her mouth.

You belong here, inside me.

Oh, fuck, sweetheart
.

Her little tease worked.

In no time at all, he let out a curse and she felt him grow yet again. Sweet droplets of precum tickled the back of her throat, flavoring her saliva with his delicious essence. Only then did she begin to move. Slow, maddening sucks along his length, and she savored his taste.

His male scent, so potent, enhanced by his confrontation with Flynn, worked as an aphrodisiac on her. She wiggled in place as moisture seeped from her core, and her pussy fluttered with the need to take him. His every groan, more animalistic than human, spurred her on. And his taste, oh, how his taste called to her.

She’d make certain he never forgot her, and that she lived in his memory as the one who made him forget himself. She’d see to it he compared every other woman to her. The idea of him being with another woman sent a stab through her chest, but she ignored the vile ricochet of pain.