The Master's Baby (BBW Werewolf Erotica) (Smut-Shorties Book 11)

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Epilogue

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  About the Author

  Copyright

  Copyright 2015 Mina Carter

  Cover Art by Mina Carter

  Published by Blue Hedgehog Press: Jan 2015.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  EBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/).

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Author's note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

  Chapter One

  She was dead. Her heart had stopped beating the instant she’d heard the news. Veyr, Master of the City, the man she loved…had mated another woman. Even now, weeks later, the realization blindsided Cyan, stole her breath and ripped through her chest to tear out her already broken heart. She stopped, a wave of lightheadedness washing over her, and clutched at the corner of the work-surface for support.

  He’d mated Vanessa McCauley, the blonde-haired, beautiful Lycan princess everyone had expected him to mate. Cyan had been nothing but an aberration, a midwinter madness quickly forgotten. The sooner she accepted that, the better.

  She straightened up and looked at herself in the reflection cast by the night darkened window over the sink. Her reflection looked back at her, and even she had to wince. Dark shadows nestled under her eyes, her cheeks were gaunt and her hair resembled a rat’s nest. She’d lost weight in the last couple of weeks, but it hadn’t made her feel any better. Instead of feeling sexy and svelte, she was hollow and worn out.

  “Probably something to do with that asshole,” she muttered as she grabbed some baking trays from the cupboard to slam on the side, but she was kidding herself. Her tiredness no doubt had more to do with the fact she was on her own now, in more ways than one.

  Repudiata Stipantis.

  Not pack.

  She’d forsaken her pack, divorced them and the Lycan way of life to live amongst the humans. Tears welled, but she closed her eyes tight and gripped the baking tray until the urge to cry passed. It happened a lot, but she wouldn’t give in. She had to get used to not being surrounded by others of her kind… No, not “of her kind”. She wasn’t Lycan. Not anymore. She couldn’t shift, so she didn’t belong among them, not after the humiliation she’d caused her pack. Picked and then abandoned by the Master…they’d probably removed her name from the birth records as soon as she’d spoken the ritual words to sever her connection with them.

  She swallowed hard and opened her eyes, looking down. The baking tray in her hands was a mangled write-off. With a sigh, she dumped it in the trash and turned back to the kitchen of the small home she’d rented. Baking paraphernalia scattered across the surfaces, and to one side boxes filled with cupcakes waited. Leaning a hip against the counter, she allowed herself a small smile she didn’t feel.

  Who knew that her skill at eating cakes could so easily translate to baking them? At a loss for something to do when she’d arrived, and not wanting to take any of the money her brother had offered, she’d applied for a job at a local café. Their new line of cupcakes had proven to be so popular that within a week earnings were up, and the elderly owner had ceded control of the kitchen.

  At least one thing was going right. That, plus her boss, Mrs. Norris, had no idea she was Lycan-born, which meant there were no uncomfortable questions about her background, or about the scar on her shoulder.

  Unbidden, her hand rose, and her fingertips brushed against the mark. It was still there, even though Veyr had forsaken her and taken another to mate. That shouldn’t have been possible, but perhaps Cyan wasn’t Lycan enough for it to matter? She certainly hadn’t been woman enough to hold his interest. The scar would fade soon, and become just another relic of the life she used to have.

  Perhaps she could get plastic surgery? As soon as the idea occurred to her, she dismissed it. Any hospital would know what she was as soon as they tried to operate on her, and a trail was the last thing she needed. Plus, her wolf cried in misery at the thought. Cyan hushed it as she would a child until it calmed down and retreated into a small ball in the back of her mind. Poor thing. It still thought that Veyr, their mate, would come for them.

  She didn’t. She’d stopped believing in fairy tales weeks ago.

  ***

  “I’ve told you before, Master. No one in the Trevais pack has anything to say to you.”

  Nick Trevais stood in front of Veyr in the entrance hall of the Trevais pack house, his arms folded and a closed expression on his face. His eyes though, burned with a banked anger that Veyr knew from experience was very dangerous. Instinct warned him that he needed to tread carefully.

  At one time he’d considered Nick to be a pushover on the Alpha’s council, the one who would always capitulate in the interests of keeping the peace. That had been before Veyr had cast Nick’s sister aside after mating her and taken another woman to mate. Or so most of the Lycans believed.

  Only four people knew the truth about the night Vanessa McCauley had been found near-naked and apparently brutalized in Veyr’s bed. Only four people knew that Jacob McCauley had blackmailed Vanessa and manipulated events. Nick Trevais was not one of them.

  Desperation rolled through Veyr’s veins, lodging under his heart and cozying up to the misery that had made its home there when he’d realized that Cyan had left. Perhaps it was time someone else knew the truth.

  “Nick, surely you don’t believe the rumors?” he asked, his voice careful.

  He knew some of the pack were listening in on their conversation. Their presence pressed against the closed doors around them, and their scents were so strong they might as well have been in the hall. Not Cyan’s though. He hadn’t scented her on any of his daily visits here. If he had, he’d have taken the place apart to find her, speak to her. Beg her forgiveness.

  Nick gave him a hard look. “The ones that say you took my sister to mate, bit her, then ditched her to bed the McCauley girl?”

  Shit. Put that way, it sounded bad. Real bad. Nick’s face said that was exactly what he believed.

  “And this from a man who’s met Jacob McCauley?” Veyr folded his arms in response. He’d barely slept since Cyan had left, and his patience was thinner than a catwalk model. “You think I’d let Cyan go? After everything I went through to get her?”

  “She’s not something for you to ‘get’!” Nick snapped, his eyes maxing out with amber. “She’s a person, not a fucking possession, you asshole.”

  Veyr almost heard the collective gasp as Nick cussed him out. Any other time and any other w
olf, he’d have just torn the guy’s throat out. No one insulted the Master of the City and got away with it. But this was Nick, the man who should have been his brother-in-law.

  He sighed. Their society was based on honor, the very thing that had almost trapped him into a mating with Vanessa, and even now, protecting her honor was wrecking his life. He couldn’t allow that anymore.

  “Nick, I know…I am an asshole. I gave Cyan space after… all that, and I shouldn’t have. I should have just come clean and admitted that Jacob played me. Played us all. I did nothing to Vanessa. But pack honor…”

  Nick passed a tired hand over his face. When he looked up, his expression was haggard, and pain lurked in the back of his eyes.

  “Veyr, if I knew where she was… I’d tell you,” he said, his voice, everything about him defeated.

  An uneasy sensation crept down Veyr’s back. Something was wrong here, and it wasn’t just an Alpha protecting a member of his pack. “Surely she realized after Trenton mated Vanessa and took on the McCauley pack…”

  “She doesn’t know. She’s not here, Veyr. Hasn’t been for weeks. Not since the day you were supposed to mate Vanessa McCauley,” Nick paused, tilting back his head as though praying for strength or fighting back tears. Finally, he looked at Veyr, his eyes watery but his expression like granite. “Repudiata Stipantis. She’s forsaken, Veyr. It’s over.”

  “Forsaken? Come on, Nick. That’s not a nice joke to make.” Veyr laughed, a little unsteadily as it felt like the blood drained from his body. For a wolf to forsake their pack meant that they had turned their back on everything it meant to be Lycan, on their whole world.

  “I’m not joking.” The other Alpha’s voice was steel. “Because of you, she left us. She left her family, her pack and her home to escape you. To escape the shame. Now if you’ll excuse us, Master, you are not welcome in this house, or in this pack. I suggest you leave. Now.”

  Veyr staggered from the Trevais house, down the front steps and out to the waiting car. His driver said nothing, just drove him back to court as Veyr looked out of the window while the city flashed by.

  He saw none of it. Instead, the word ‘forsaken’ rolled through his mind, over and over, and each time it did, his anger grew. He’d been too busy trying to be the ‘Master of the City’. Too busy making sure pack honor was adhered to and that no one suffered because of one asshole alpha, he hadn’t considered how it would affect the woman he loved. He’d thought she was just lying low, staying out of the limelight while the dust over the whole McCauley incident settled. Once it had, in the neat little plan in his mind, he’d talk to her, explain everything and they would have their happily ever after.

  And he was a fucking idiot.

  He sighed and raked his hand through the short strands of his hair. How had he not foreseen this? Crap, he’d forced the woman he loved to a life of exile. Condemned her to live alone, without others of her kind around her, because of what he’d done

  The car pulled up outside court and he leaped from it almost before it had stopped moving. Scattering servants in his wake, he headed for his office. The door crashed into the frame as he shoved it open, making Jace, sat at the desk, jump in shock.

  “She’s gone. Cyan. She’s forsaken.” Veyr growled, his voice maxed out with his wolf. “I don’t care what you do. I don’t care if you have to tear this fucking city down, but find her and find her now!”

  Chapter Two

  It had been a good day, but a tiring one. Cyan sighed with relief as the last customer left and she could flip the “closed” sign over on the door. The tables were clean, the chairs upturned and stacked, ready for her to clean the floor.

  Not a moment too soon either. She breathed a sigh of relief as she filled the bucket with hot water and added detergent. The fresh, clean scent of pine wafted up and cleared the smell of food from her nostrils. Her sense of smell had always been good, but today the cooking in the café had bothered her. Like, sick to the stomach bothered her. The fried eggs were the worst. Every time they’d hit the hotplate, the little she’d eaten for lunch had tried to vacate the premises.

  As if that wasn’t bad enough, today was the day her cell phone had gone on strike. She’d put it to charge overnight, like normal, but this morning it had been as flat as a pancake. Not that she was waiting for anyone to contact her. She’d had to switch her number for a new pay-as-you-go one when she’d left home to stop anyone finding her. Didn’t matter though, the fact the blinking thing wasn’t working was enough to irritate the hell out of her. Probably because her period was late, she decided. She was always emotional this time of the month.

  Rubbing a hand over her stomach, she tried to calm it. Just a few weeks into a new job the last thing she needed was to get sick. Not that she thought Mrs. Norris would fire her, but it didn’t look good, did it?

  Wringing the mop with vicious twists, she slopped it on the floor and attacked the grime. What was it with people these days? Could they not keep the damn food on their plates? She glowered to herself as she scrubbed at several stains. Seemed like all of them had thrown their food on the floor. It was enough to make a person sick…

  The chime on the door jangled. She sighed and closed her eyes for a second. The catch on the door didn’t work all the time, and she always forgot to throw the bolt.

  “We’re closed, I’m afraid,” she called over her shoulder as she attacked a stubborn stain. “Open at nine tomorrow.”

  Silence echoed behind her, and all the hairs rose on the back of her neck. Inside, her wolf roared to life, stronger than she’d ever felt the creature, and she turned, coming face to face with a familiar figure.

  Veyr. Large as life. Right there in front of her.

  “Shit,” she murmured as her world grayed around the edges. Reaching out, she grabbed for the nearest table to steady herself. Veyr started forward, but she warned him off with a glare. “Don’t you fucking dare. Just don’t.”

  “Cyan, please.” His deep voice was like a balm to her senses, calming her. Which then just made her even more mad, because she didn’t want to be calmed, she wanted to know how the hell he’d found her.

  “Go to hell.”

  “I’m already there, little wolf.” His smile was sad and he pulled out a chair, retreating a step or two. “Please… sit before you fall.”

  She didn’t want to, but good sense prevailed. Even though she wanted to stand as a beacon of strength and prove that his being here didn’t bother her in the slightest, that wasn’t going to happen. It was better to sit and be aloof than try it sprawled on the floor.

  Her legs as wobbly as jelly, she eased forward and collapsed into the chair with zero grace. Unbidden, her hand stole over her stomach, and her wolf whittered at her in a smut tone. Our mate is here, it informed her with more than a healthy amount of I-told-you-so, but she ignored it as she looked at Veyr coldly.

  He was thinner than she remembered. His cheeks were gaunt, and lines of exhaustion bracketed his lips. Her heart ached; the need to go to him, wrap her arms around him and comfort him was almost overwhelming. He wasn’t hers to comfort though. He belonged to another.

  “What the hell is that stink?” He sneezed.

  She pursed her lips. “Pine-scented floor cleaner. Wipes the nostrils clean, doesn’t it?”

  He nodded, his eyes watering, and she relented. “Don’t worry, it’ll clear soon.”

  Her good feeling didn’t last long though. She folded her arms.

  “What are you doing here, Veyr?” she asked. “Don’t tell me that life with Vanessa has paled already?”

  “No.”

  His reply hardened her heart, and she rubbed her stomach again. Damn thing was doing an imitation of butterflies on acid.

  “Because I don’t have one.”

  “What… A life? Boohoo. You expect sympathy because your mate has you under the thumb?” One more answer like that and screw the floor, she was kicking him out, with the mop if need be. “Sorry, bud, tell it to someone wh
o cares.”

  He took a step forward, his expression careful, and she arched back, hands out and fingers extended, ready to fight. It was an instinctive gesture, one so Lycan she could have been the poster girl for a female Lycan self-defence group. It would have been totally ludicrous if her wolf hadn’t roared with rage, and razor-sharp claws burst from the ends of her fingers. Her eyes widened with surprise…

  Her first ever shift, and it was a partial shift.

  Not missing a beat, she bared her teeth. “One more step, buster, and I’ll have your balls on a plate.”

  *

  “I always knew you could shift.”

  Veyr glanced from Cyan’s eyes to her new claws and back again. The pain there tore at his already bleeding heart. He’d done that. Hurt her so badly that her wolf had manifested itself to protect her. Finally.

  Holding in the urge to sneeze again, he eased to his knees in front of her. A small lean forward was enough to put his throat in range of those glittering little claws and put himself at her mercy.

  “Do it,” he urged in a soft voice, shuffling forward a little more until her fingertips rested against his throat. “I hurt you, and I am so, so sorry.”

  Her lower lip quivered, and she bit it as though to stop it moving. Her eyes brimmed with tears. The need to surge forward, to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right, almost overwhelmed Veyr, but he forced himself to stay where he was. This had to be her decision.

  Despite her shift, she’d forsaken the pack. She wasn’t one of his wolves, not anymore. He couldn’t coerce her in any way.

  “You want me to kill you?” she demanded, anger making her words sharp. “Somehow I don’t think your mate would be happy about that, now would she?”

  “I don’t know,” he arched his eyebrow. “Would you?”

  She frowned in confusion. “Doesn’t matter what I think, does it? I’m not Vanessa.”