Rescued & Ravished: An Alpha's Conquest (A Paranormal Ménage Romance) (11 page)

Everyone was watching them. They’d never argued; not like this. The air between them was heavy with a new, potent tension. Neither of them had mated for the Season; neither of them had ever challenged another man for clan dominance; and, privately, neither of them had ever seen a girl they wanted so much. It was too much.

Hudson stood up abruptly, his chair falling back. “Don’t give the girl to him, Alpha! He just wants to mount her! He’s
blind
!”

Chance jumped up, too. “Don’t listen to this fool, Alpha! Acting like he doesn’t want the girl for his own bed—
bullshit
!”

Suddenly Egan and Ivy were between them, trying to hold them apart. When had they come around the table? Every fiber of Chance’s being wanted to
change
, wanted to shift into a bear and wrestle Hudson for supremacy, wanted to bite and tear and—

“How can he lead us if he can’t even control his feelings for a woman?” Hudson was roaring. “He can’t, that’s the answer! Get off of me, Ivy! Let me—”

“You want to lead this clan? Is that it?” Chance was growling, nearly blind with primal, irresistible rage. He was a bull grizzly in the prime of his life, and the urge to fight for and claim clan dominance had finally burst to the surface. It was cold, raw instinct, coded into his DNA, just like it was coded into Hudson’s. He’d always known it would come to this. “Don’t make me laugh! This fucking overlander is going to lead us? He wasn’t born here! He’s not one of us! He’s American, he’s ready to murder this girl, he—”

“I am
not
going to murder her, you lying, mangy son of a—”

“ENOUGH! Stop this!””

Jason’s voice made the rafters shake. Chance shook off Egan, and Hud pushed Ivy away, but they obeyed their Alpha’s command.

“It’s natural,” Galangal said, squinting at them over his still-steaming tea. “They’re young men and they’re full of fire. Let them fight it out, Alpha. Let’s see who’s stronger.”

“Yes, let’s,” hissed Hud, glaring at Chance, who found it almost impossible to recognize him. “Let’s wrestle. For the clan? Or for the girl?”

“No! Not now.” Jason’s voice was disapproving and tired. “If she’s a Hunter like Galangal fears, then we can’t risk dividing the clan. Things’re too unsure. No, I won’t allow it. Hudson will take the girl home.”

Chance wanted to maul his smirking friend over that. He felt his teeth lengthen in his mouth.
She should be mine!

“Chance, come with me.” Jason stood. “Hudson, go and get our guest and take her home.”

Hudson’s cabin was incredibly basic. It was made of round, unstripped logs notched together, with a low pitched roof and square windows with no glass. All they had to cover them were weathered wooden shutters.

“Not fancy,” he grunted, “I know. But it serves.”

He shouldered open the front door and then pushed her gently through it.

Inside, natural light was streaming in. The cabin was one room: there was a wood stove, a hand-peeled cedar bedstead, a simple four-post table with equally simple log chairs, a rude hutch and set of drawers, and a fireplace with a grate and pot-hung crane. An unstrung bow was hung by the bed.

She was surprised at how comfortable it felt. Despite her bound hands, she relaxed.

Hud shut and locked the door, then turned and untied her wrists. The cord had left a red line on her skin; he made a disapproving sound.

“Tied it too tight. Why didn’t you tell me, girl?”

“I didn’t want to whine. And besides, I’m just a prisoner, right?”

He shrugged awkwardly. “You want lunch? I’m no Gentian in the kitchen, but...”

She was enjoying the way he squirmed. “Not yet. Got any water, though? I’ll admit to being thirsty.” The walk from Gentian and Egan’s cabin to Hudson’s had taken them a long way over uneven, forested ground, and she was still slick with sweat.

“Sure, right there in that pitcher. I’ll pour. You just… you just sit down. And… ah, hell… you rest.”

It had taken all of his self-control not to shift at the meeting and rip Hudson to shreds. Why did
Hudson
deserve Harper? Why didn’t Chance?

Jason had had to walk with him back to his cabin to make sure he didn’t try a dash for Hudson’s. The Alpha had talked him down, and then ordered him to stay at home overnight. He didn’t want Hud and Chance fighting before it was time.

Now hours had passed since Chance had gotten back from the meeting, stiff, feverish hours. Ivy’s valerian-and-hops drink had worn off and his blood was hot with the Season, his cock endlessly half-hard and ready. He needed a woman. He needed Harper.

He couldn’t think clearly. All he knew was that his body was sore with need and that Hudson had taken the one woman he wanted to mate. More than that, the animal in him was suddenly and finally aware—finally
knew
—that Hudson was another full-grown, powerful bull male.

A rival. They couldn’t go on anymore without acknowledging that the bears inside of them were urging them to fight, insisting that one dominate the other. The social order of the clan was muddy without that fight. The men would have to hash out their rank the traditional way. Whoever won would be the next Alpha.

His hands shook as he tried to brew some birch tea; denying the Season made a shifter twitchy. All he wanted was to change forms, lumber up the hill, and paw down Hudson’s cabin door. Then he could lock jaws with him and
fight
him.

And after that, he wanted Harper, too.

He couldn’t get her out of his mind. Her soft, smooth curves… her sweet mouth… the way her breasts had felt.

But he couldn’t go to her. Not right now. He would obey the council’s decision to separate him from her out of respect, but not out of understanding.

“Ungh.” He couldn’t finish making his drink. Instead, he rubbed his too-gold eyes, cracked his back, and then went to lay down on his bed. He didn’t expect to sleep, but maybe it would calm him down. Something had to.

The door opened and closed. The sound of it woke him up.

“Who’s there?” he asked, sitting up abruptly on an elbow. His eyes burned gold in the dark.

“It’s just me,” a girl whispered. “Briar.”

“Oh,” he said, losing interest. His posture softened. “Go home, honey.”

“I don’t want to,” she said, coming up to his bed. She was barely wearing anything: just a thin, above-the-knees nightdress. He could see her little nipples pressing at the fabric, temptingly. “I want to be here.”

“You’re not what I want,” he said as bluntly as he could bring himself to. She wasn’t luscious, worldly, golden-haired Harper, she was just his clanmate’s fresh, pretty daughter, a cheeky colt too naïve to interest him.

“I’m not?”

“Nah, Briar,” he muttered. “Get out of here.”

“Why?” she asked, slithering on top of him. “You’ve got no other girl.”

She smelled good—girlish, clean, and warm—but there was a weakness to her scent, too. She couldn’t match Harper for fragrance.

Harper.

“Get off of me, girl.”

“I shouldn’t hafta,” she purred, grinding her hips as she straddled him. “You’re hard, Chance. You want me. It’s the Season and you need a woman. Why shouldn’t it be me? I could be a good mate for you.”

“Get
off
me,” he growled, but she was right, he was hard. Dangerously hard. His cock was straining against the rough fabric of his jeans, desperate to sink into the lovely girl above him.

“I bake the best griddle cakes in the clan, Chance. I’m not bad at growing things, neither, and I make a mean strawberry jam come late summer. I’ll keep you fed.” She guided his powerful hands to her hips. “I’m a strong sow, too. I’m not big, but I’m
tough
. I can fight. I can hunt. I can birth a good litter. My mama’s wise, and she can give you lotsa good counsel. She comes from Alpha stock out of Cranbrook. We’ve got a lot to offer you.”

“We don’t belong together, Briar.” He knew that, just like he’d always known it. But the soft heat of her thighs along his hips made him weak. “I’m not the man for you.”

“I think you are,” she whispered silkily. Leaning forward, she kissed him. It wasn’t the best kiss he’d ever had—far from it—but it still made his cock jerk. He ran one of his hands up her side, closing it on a small breast.

But it wasn’t enough. Her breast wasn’t large and hot like Harper’s had been; it didn’t overflow his hand in the same delicious way. Briar was a beautiful girl, but not what he wanted. No.

“Stop,” he grunted, even as she kissed him again and again. She tasted like her lunch of salad greens—there was a tang of tumble mustard on her tongue. “Enough.”

“Mate me,” she whined, rocking her hips, tempting his body. “Sire cubs off me. I’ll be your woman.”

“Woman?” He had to chuckle, hoarsely. “You’re not a woman. You’re just a girl. Now get off of me before I throw you off.”

“I’m not a child! I’m old enough to pair with a man!”

True, she wasn’t a child. But she wasn’t mature enough, or full-bodied enough, or sweet-smelling enough, or
sensible
enough to be his mate. She was brassy and chatty, but deep down she wasn’t strong enough, either. He needed a studier, lusher, smarter woman to be his own.

“Take me, Chance,” she insisted, bucking. “The Season’s made me wet as spring! I’m swollen and soft and hot between the legs and I need you to fill me. Please, Chance! Please! I need to be bred, and you’re the man to do it! You’re so strong, and so handsome, and I—”

“No, honey,” he groaned, rolling her off of him onto her back. His cock, ruled by animal desires, was still as hard as steel. “I’m not your man. And you need to go home.”

She spread her legs wide, rolling her hips; her slender fingers clutched his messy bedspread. “I belong in your bed. Mate me! I’m not leaving until you mate me!”

He could smell her Season-puffy pussy. His cock fought his zipper.

“Fine,” he managed gruffly. “If you won’t leave, I will.”

He pushed himself out of the bed, struggled to the cabin door, and left, slamming it behind him.

Harper had fallen asleep with her head down on Hudson’s table. Slowly, heavily her eyes finally opened; the cabin shutters were mostly closed, but the few left open showed it was afternoon. Groggily, she got to her feet. Where was that water pitcher?

There it was, on one of the wood counters by the stove. She went toward it, gripped the handle, chose a cup—

“BEHIND YOU!”

Jumping a clean foot in the air, she dropped her cup, spun around, and
shrieked
, slamming herself against the cabin wall. Hudson was behind her, an axe raised in the air, meant for her. She shrieked again.

Hudson lowered his hatchet, looking ashamed and a little surprised.

“Well, damn,” he said slowly. “Not exactly a Huntress’s reaction, is that?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she gasped, her heart hammering. Her chest was tight and hot, constricted by fear.

“I was checkin’ your reflexes,” he muttered, frowning. “They’re not the best I ever seen.”

“No shit! I’m not whatever it is you think I am! Some kind of superspy!” Clutching the front of her nightdress, she collapsed at his table. “Don’t do that shit again.
Don’t. Ever.
”

“I won’t. I mean… I probably won’t.”

“Can’t you just accept that I’m a normal fucking person?”

He thrust the hatchet through his belt, then pulled out a chair and sat down next to her at the table. He looked troubled. “I’m starting to.”

“Good. I’m glad. I’m really, really, really glad.” Her heart rate was only now slowing down. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said hesitatingly. “Damn, never thought I’d say that to one of you people.”

“One of
you
people?”

“Humans.” He cleared his throat. “What do you want from me, Harper? What do you think I should do with you?”

“I think you should let me go. Just let me go home.”

“Let you go? Just let you leave out the front door and say ‘good luck’ and wave? Let you walk out into the wilderness and get lost?”

She chewed her bottom lip. “Then help me.”

“How should I help you?” His brown-and-gold eyes stung her. Their look was so intense.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “Please… please do something. I’m afraid your elders will decide I should…” She couldn’t say
die…
“…not go home.”

He stared at her silently for a long time, so long that she had to look away and watch some golden sunlight lengthen over the raw, knotted floorboards. Finally, he sighed. “I’m gonna make us some lunch.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Is it poisoned?”

“It’s not poisoned,” he snorted, sounding slightly insulted. “I wouldn’t poison you. I don’t even hold with poisoning rabbits. Wait here and I’ll heat up some eggs.”

“Wait,” she said, grabbing his arm; suspiciously, his hand closed over hers, like he was about to pry her fingers off. “Let me make it.”

“You?” he sounded surprised. “Hell, that’s not necessary. Just ‘cause you’re a woman, I don’t expect—”

“Let
me make it,” she repeated insistently. “It calms me down.”

“Are
you
gonna poison it?”

“With what, Hudson? Do you keep poison in your spice rack? Do you even
have
a spice rack?”

He chuckled slowly. “Alright. Fine. You can make it. Let me show you how the woodstove works. I got a feeling you don’t already know.”

Chance stared up at the late afternoon sky, unmoving. He was lying in a meadow, listening to insects chirrup and birds sing. It calmed him down, and he needed calm.

Every part of him was throbbing for release. Briar had tempted his body almost beyond its breaking point, but he felt—felt powerfully—that the only release he would truly find was with Harper. She was the only one who could cure him.

A dragonfly flitted low overhead. He frowned.

He had to win tomorrow. He had to dominate Hudson and claim the role of Alpha. There was no other choice. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have the power to save her. And if he couldn’t save her, then beyond the simple tragedy of handing her over to the elders, he would never have the chance to be with her.