Twisted (5 page)

His balls flared to life.

He held his breath until he could control himself. If the woman had any clue how close he was to shoving her onto all fours and making her his, she’d run up another tree. So he licked the slight wound in her soft skin.

She moaned, her eyes fluttering closed.

Now that was trust.

His lungs filled with the scent of vanilla. His mouth on her, he wandered south, his ears pricking to survey the forest around them. No predators were around. Well, at least no predators more dangerous than him. His lips enclosed her nipple, and this time he groaned in pure appreciation. Several lifetimes wouldn’t be enough time to truly enjoy her taste. But he’d give it a shot.

He nipped, licked, and tasted his way across her breasts until she was a quivering mass of nerves beneath him. She was practically bucking him off by the time he took pity on her and coasted down her abdomen. One lick at her clit and she went off like the Fourth of July.

He fucking loved the Fourth of July.

God, she was gorgeous when she came.

Time to see that again.

Pressing her still trembling thighs apart with his shoulders, he settled in to play. Her entire body shuddered when he dragged his tongue across her clit. Slowly, he inserted one finger into her heat, followed by another. God, she was tight.

The animal inside him roared for him to take.

Searching for the tiniest of seconds, he found her G-spot.

Yep, right where he remembered.

She cried out and arched into his mouth.

God, he’d missed this woman. Her powerful orgasm shot pine needles in every direction. He let her ride it out, prolonged it until she started to mewl.

Wolves probably shouldn’t mewl.

With regret, he released her clit. She sighed in relief.

Hmm. He couldn’t grant her relief quite yet. Crawling up her body, he took her mouth in a kiss that promised posses-sion. Her small hands drifted down his back, and it felt too good to stop—to put her hands back over her head. She could touch him all night if she wanted.

Her tongue glided along his at the same time her nails bit into his butt.

Fire roared down his spine. The control he’d kept so strongly spun away. Grabbing her hips, he lifted her off the ground and plunged inside her with one brutal push.

She cried out, her nails sinking deeper. Her gaze on his, she blinked, and then relaxed beneath him with a soft sigh of pure pleasure.

Her wet heat enclosed him, pulsing, demanding. His balls pulled tight. He gritted his teeth and withdrew to plunge back in. Her internal walls gripped his cock in so much fire, sparks flickered behind his opened eyes. Going blind was well worth the price of such heaven.

He picked up the speed, holding her down, keeping her as close as possible. Her thighs lifted, and her ankles clasped at the small of his back, pushing with surprising strength. He fought back the orgasm, wanting to prolong bliss for as long as possible.

Then she came again.

Her entire body stiffened, and those dangerous walls clenched him tighter than a vise, rippling along his entire length.

He lost it.

Grabbing her hips strongly enough to bruise, he fucked her hard. Too hard, but he couldn’t stop. Never in his life had anything felt so good. So— He roared like the wolf he was when he came, his entire body jerking with each ejaculation. Seconds later, he collapsed on top of her, his senses instantly tuning in to the forest. God, he’d lost it so completely, anybody could’ve snuck up on them. He tried not to frown.

The goofy smile on her face made his frown disappear.

He smiled back.

Step one . . . accomplished. Now all he had to do was convince her to mate him again.

How hard could that be?

The next morning, Maggie struggled to walk naturally and not wince as tender muscles protested. Very. Tender. Muscles.

Private ones that Terrent Vilks had worked like crazy the previous night. And she had to lose the satisfied smile . . . but her face wouldn’t cooperate. Sex was awesome . . . and sex with Terrent explosive.

Sometimes being a wolf rocked. Even a damaged wolf with only ten years of memories.

When Terrent reached for her hand, her grin widened.

Her whole face felt happy. But how could she move on without knowing who she was?

The manicured trail ran for several miles up the hill. Pine trees shadowed the sides, and birds chirped high above. She loved walking through the woods, especially in the fall warmth of the sun. Huckleberries sweetened the air. “Okay.

Let me try again.” Taking a deep breath, she tried to mask her scent.

“Nope. Vanilla and, well, me.” His smug smile was too cute to get irritated about.

“Shoot.” If she had known how to mask her scent at one time, the virus had taken away the ability. For now.

They emerged into a grassy field. A sturdy cedar-sided lodge rose high in front of another rocky hill, while several more buildings spread to the north. Wolf headquarters for not only the Raze pack but for all wolf-shifters.

Maggie cleared her throat. “How many wolves are there in the Raze pack?”

“Usually about three hundred, but many are off fighting in the war. It’s the largest wolf pack in North America, however.”

“Is that why this is the headquarters for all wolf-shifters?” Maggie asked.

Terrent nodded. “Somewhat. The Raze pack is also com-prised of excellent fighters and strong leaders.”

A graveled parking lot spread out to the side, but she was glad they’d decided to walk the several miles.

A stream of people, all women, emerged from an opening in the rocky mountain.

Women shaking signs and chanting about inequities in life.

Terrent stopped short, yanking her to a halt. “What the hell?”

Maggie smelled the air. Yep. All wolves. She eyed the twenty angry women. Several younger ones, teenagers actually, wore cheerleading outfits with the logo
Egerton Eagles
across their chests. “There’s a protest?”

“Humph.” Terrent scratched his chin. “This is new.”

Three men strode from the lodge to stand on the wide porch. The middle one had long white hair, sizzling eyes, and the overbearing posture of a leader.

Maggie tilted her head. “The Alpha?”

“Yes. He has led for almost a thousand years. But he lost his mate a few years ago, and he hasn’t recovered.”

Maggie’s heart lurched. “How did she die?”

“For a while, there were bands of shifter-werewolves being controlled by the Kurjans. They raided different places to prepare to take down the king. She was killed by a werewolf.” Anger and sorrow cut harsh lines in Terrent’s face.

“Now he wants to retire and go travel.”

“Who will take over?”

Terrent nodded to a lumbering blond with a red face standing behind the Alpha. “His nephew, Roger.”

There was something in the tone. “You don’t like Roger?”

“He’s a hothead.” Terrent gestured to the third man on the porch, who couldn’t be more than twenty. “Nash Johnson.

He’s training as an enforcer. Good kid. Tough and thinks on his feet, but too young to lead. Now, anyway.” Grabbing her hand again, Terrent tugged her closer to the group. “Come on. We don’t want to miss this.”

His shadow was cast long by the sun, and she was re-minded once again of his size. Thank goodness he was a rather reasonable wolf. Well, as wolves went.

The Alpha cleared his throat and held out his hands.

“Now, ladies. A protest?”

The woman in front, a thirty-something with streaked blond hair, shook her sign. “With all respect, Gerald, the new laws are stupid. The girls should be allowed to go to nationals.”

A rip-roaring “Nationals!” shot from the crowd.

Roger jumped forward and yanked the sign away from the woman. He held it high, yet close enough to use. “The Alpha has spoken.”

Terrent stiffened and stepped closer to the lodge.

Gerald cleared his throat, his eyes searching. Relief filled them when he spotted Terrent. “Vilks. This must be Maggie Malone.”

Everyone turned to look at her, and she fought the urge to step back.

“Yes.” Terrent faced the crowd. “Did we come at a bad time?”

“No.” Gerald sighed. “Sorry about the state of the area— we’ve been busy.”

Empty planters and weeds disfigured the area. The landscaping plan was beautiful, but apparently nobody had the time to nurture flowers and plants. The earth appeared as if it had lost a battle.

Terrent nodded. “We’ve all had a tough decade. Things will improve.”

The woman who’d lost her sign reached for another one.

“We’d like the Bane’s Council to weigh in on this one. Hopefully you can talk some sense into our leadership.”

Roger stepped toward her, menace vibrating the muscles in his arms.

Maggie gasped.

One second Terrent stood by her side, the next he had his hand wrapped around Roger’s throat, the sign in his other hand.

Holy crap, he moved fast.

The growl rumbling from his chest shot chills down her spine. Muscles flexed in his arm, and Roger dropped the sign.

Terrent tossed him against the wooden building, where he dented the grooved wood. The building shuddered, and the glaring man dropped to the deck. Terrent hissed out a breath.

“We intimidate women, now?”

Gerald stuttered. “No. We don’t. Things are just in up-heaval as we transition leadership.” His hands shook as he clasped them.

Maggie took a deep breath. The guy didn’t want to let his psycho nephew lead. Couldn’t blame him.

Terrent slowly turned, fire in his eyes, his jaw rigid. “How can the Bane’s Council help, Bobbi?”

The woman glared at Roger before focusing on Terrent.

“The girls finaled in their regional cheerleading competition and have been invited to compete in Georgia next month.”

She gestured toward the girls. “My daughter, Shannon, and her friends have worked hard to accomplish this. Yet, they’ve been told no.”

Roger shoved off from the building, irritation in his eyes.

“Integrating into the human community was a mistake, one that will be rectified soon. We never should have allowed our females to attend a human school. “

“You don’t allow anything, jackass,” Bobbi hissed.

Roger dodged forward again only to somehow smack into Terrent’s fist. Air shimmered around the other wolf as he began to shift.

“Stop!” Gerald ordered.

Everyone froze.

So that was what an Alpha sounded like. Maggie twitched her nose. Yep, she felt like stopping. Interesting.

Terrent stretched his neck. “The Bane’s Council will escort and protect the kids on the trip.”

All eyes turned toward the Alpha, and several of the girls seemed to be holding their breath.

“Are you sure?” Gerald asked, his shoulders relaxing.

“Yes. I’ll contact Lock and Ace later today,” Terrent said.

A chorus of excited shrieks from the girls sent birds scattering for safety. Maggie tried to keep her hands off her ears.

Several of them rushed forward to hug Terrent, and she tried to keep her claws sheathed.

Then she tried to keep from laughing her ass off at the panicked look across his strong face. He awkwardly patted a couple of the girls on the back, sending them sprawling toward their mothers.

Bobbi raised her sign. “To town—ice cream for everybody.” Turning, she sent Gerald a look. “On the Alpha.”

The girls squealed. Two of them approached Maggie. The closest one shook her hand. “I’m Andrea, and this is my friend, Shannon.” Both girls had green eyes, long brown hair, and pretty smiles. They looked like wolves.

“Nice to meet you,” Maggie said.

“You, too.” Andrea grinned. “So, you’re Terrent’s mate?”

“Ah, no. Just friends.” Even as Maggie said the words, heat climbed into her face.

The girls giggled.

Maggie cleared her throat, trying to look like an adult.

She felt like a dork. “Enjoy the ice cream.”

“We will.” The girls ran for the parking lot, where everyone piled into a bunch of cars, which went speeding down the road.

Terrent gestured her toward him. She took her time across the uneven ground. Nobody ordered her around, including her current lover. Period.

Amusement lifted his upper lip as he took her hand.

“Alpha Gerald McDunphy, please meet Maggie Malone.”

Gerald clasped her hand in his big mitt. “It’s so nice to meet you, my dear.”

They all turned as a dirty black Cadillac screeched to a stop. A man in a doctor’s white smock jumped out, shoving his glasses back up on his nose. A haphazard pile of papers was clutched in his hands. He hustled forward and bowed his head to the Alpha.

“Dr. Philips,” Gerald said. “What’s going on?”

Philips sucked in air and pointed at Maggie. “Her test results are in. The Kurjans changed her.” Yanking out a mask, he pressed it to his mouth. “I know why the demons want her dead.”

Maggie settled onto the hard seat, her gaze on the mountains outside the floor-to-ceiling window. Terrent sat next to her in the lodge’s conference room, displeasure vibrating from him with an intensity that sped up her heart. The Alpha, his nephew, and the enforcer sat across the table. The stupid doctor sat at the end, still wearing his mask.

“I knew I shouldn’t have let the wolf doctors poke me,”

she muttered. The vampire doctors had examined her for years without discovering anything off.

The doctor sniffed behind the mask. “We know more about wolf anatomy and the workings of the Vaile wolves than do the vampires. Unfortunately, if the demons want you dead, they know about your gifts, too.”

Terrent was still. Too still. “What the hell are you taking about, doctor?”

The doctor’s hand trembled. “The tests came back. We tested her brain waves. They’re just like a normal wolf ’s.”

The doctor’s eyes bugged out over the paper mask, and his tone hinted at disaster.

Claws emerged from her fingertips, so Maggie hid her hands under the table. Her stomach pitched. “How is that bad?”

“Well—” the doctor waited for a nod from Gerald before continuing—“you’re from the island, and your brain waves should reflect the ability to shield, or mask your scent.”