The Mistress and the Hellhound, Page 2

  “Yeah. I do.”

  She reached for him, smoothing those tiny hands of hers over his chest and he groaned. Her touch felt good. So good it calmed his rage for a few seconds, eased the fires within. If she wanted, this tiny woman could bring him to his knees and utterly destroy him.

  She ran her nails lightly over his skin, then rubbed the pads of her fingers over his nipples. They beaded, hardening into small nubs and a jolt of sensation arrowed to his dick. It jerked and pulsed against his pants, as though pissed at its fabric confinement and the fact she was paying attention to other parts of his body. His claws made an appearance and plaster cracked behind her head. He didn’t move his hands, keeping them where they were.

  “Touch me,” he ordered on a rasp.

  She flicked him a glance and the small curve of her lips nearly broke the restraints on his control. Wench was teasing him. He growled, baring his teeth but that didn’t quell her smile. Instead, she closed the gap between them, pressing her lush breasts against his chest as she smoothed her hand down his stomach.

  “My, my, you are growly today.” Her kiss whispered over the side of his throat, butterfly touches that almost drove him crazy. “I like growly, it’s sexy.”

  She reached his belt, nimble fingers making short work of the buckle and hummed with pleasure as she slid her hand within. The feel of her fingers closing around his hard shaft drew a gasp from the depths of his chest. A gasp that quickly turned into a rumbling growl when she reached up on tiptoe to kiss and nibble along the line of his jaw. The scrape of her blunt human teeth and the softness of her lips against the stubbled skin was a pleasure that made his eyes close so he could savor it.

  She stroked his cock and he barked out a curse.

  “Fuck!” he groaned as she did it again. Root to tip, over and over, then a pause as she swept her thumb over the broad tip. Smeared his own pre-cum over the mushroom head. He dropped his head, giving into her silent demand and claimed her lips.

  The kiss was not exploratory or gentle. The beast of lust riding him wouldn’t allow that. Instead it was hard and ferocious, a claiming as he pried her lips open and plundered the silken recesses of her soft mouth. He sought her taste like he would hunt down his prey, letting them explode on his tongue while she worked his cock.

  Then it wasn’t enough. He needed to touch her. Feel her slick heat.

  Not breaking the kiss, he pressed her against the wall. Body angled to allow her to stroke him, he grabbed her dress and hauled it around her waist. She jumped and moaned as he stroked his fingers, following the line of her thong between her ass cheeks, but the sound was lost in his mouth.

  He slid a finger under the thong, lifting it clear of her skin, then tore it away with a quick jerk. Her hand closed around his cock in surprise, her stroke harder, quicker. He groaned and tore his lips away.

  “Again, like that. Hard,” he ordered, hand returning to cup her ass. She was so tiny, he felt like he enveloped her, wrapped around her, protecting her from the world. Keeping her for himself.

  She pulled again, her breath rasping against the side of his neck and his eyes almost crossed. Felt so fucking good.

  “Faster.”

  He wasn’t all about giving orders though. Nudging her legs apart with a knee, he pulled one up against his hip, holding it there and leaning her back to open her to his exploration. Careful not to disturb her grip on him, he slid a finger down her collarbone to her cleavage, teasing against the generous globes before skipping over the bunched fabric. He found the clipped curls at the apex of her thighs and followed the trail in, parting her pussy lips with gentle fingers. They were slick, wet with her arousal.

  Collecting her juices, he smeared them around her clit, assaulting the small bundle of nerves with a barrage of strokes and rubs. She whimpered, the sound lost in his mouth, her hand on his cock speeding up, then slowing as he pleasured her. Unable to help himself, he moved lower. Found the entrance to her pussy and slid a finger into her heated depths. She closed around him, and the groan that rose felt like it emanated from his very soul. Pulling back, he added a second finger. Fuck, her cunt was so tight…he could already imagine it gripping his cock. Tight around him as he fucked her hard and fast.

  Curling his fingers back, he sought her g-spot, brought his thumb into play against her clit and rubbed both. A dual assault. Darker thoughts filled his mind, but he pulled back from them, locked them away for another time. A time when he could get her stripped and bound, pleasure her until her throat was raw from screaming his name. A time when they didn’t have a ball in an hour.

  Breaking away, he kissed along her neck and upped the pace of his hand. “You feel fucking fantastic. So slick. So hot. So wet.”

  She panted, her breathing ragged as she strained toward release. Briefly he considered withholding, leaving her in a state of sexual frustration through the ball. But that wouldn’t be fair… She didn’t need to be distracted, not with Kellan and his backers playing silly fuckers earlier.

  “Come for me, babe. I want to feel it all.”

  She panted, head against the wall and his dick still in her hand. She managed a few un-coordinated pumps, but then her eyes unfocused. “No… you haven’t.”

  He silenced her with a ruthless kiss. “Come. Now. All over my hand.”

  And with a cry, she did.

  ***

  She should have stayed in bed with Archer.

  Two hours later Reena sat on her throne at one end of the ballroom and looked over the amassed wolves attending the ball. A sigh inflated her chest. Balls. Meetings. Fundraisers. Functions. All while tiptoeing the minefield that was lycan politics. And she was sick of it. Just once she wanted someone to mean what they said and not have to watch her back.

  Sometimes she thought the vampires had it right. Living in gangs, the fangers inhabited the city’s underworld and if people thought lycan challenge matches were brutal, then vampire culture would blow their mind. No politics, no rules, their earls kept power through might alone. A heady thought when she had to smile pleasantly and avoid upsetting all the spoilt brat alphas who wouldn’t know real responsibility if it upped and bit them on the fucking ass.

  Once, just once, she’d like to forget all the alliances and treaties and rip a few fucking throats out. Just to teach them all a damn lesson.

  But…she smiled as she spotted Archer on the other side of the room. He lurked in the shadows by the gaping fireplace again. She’d noticed at gatherings he always sought the shadows. At first she’d assumed it was because he was new to lycan society, but as time went on, she realized he was more comfortable in the dark.

  She had no idea what the fire thing was though. Most wolves hated fire, complaining if she ordered them lit when it started to drop cold, but she didn’t care. As soon as she’d worked out Archer liked them, she ordered them all lit. Fuckers could just deal with it.

  A movement caught her eye and she refocused her attention. A small knot of people had formed in the middle of the dance floor, making their way toward her. People scurried to get out of their way, the crowd parting before them. Sitting up, she reached for her wolf, holding the beast under her skin.

  The crowd parted to reveal half the council alphas with Kellan at their center. Their grim expressions and the power shrouding them like summer haze over asphalt said they weren’t here to congratulate her on her excellent function planning skills.

  “My lord alphas,” she greeted them with a nod. “How can I help you?”

  Polite. She had to remember to be polite, even if she suspected this evening would end with blood on the floor again, and possibly her own death. Calm descended over her like a cloak. She’d never been worried about dying, had always known she wasn’t destined to die of old age in her bed. As Mistress of the City, it was a given there would be a wolf younger and hungrier for power than she was.

  She’d been waiting for it. The only thing she regretted was that her death would take her from Archer, when she’d only just found him
.

  Two figures moved in her peripheral vision and a quick breath told her Travis and Jennison had her back, their own wolves barely under control. Travis she expected. She didn’t like it, but she’d always known if she fell, her successor wouldn't allow him to live, not with his links to her. But Jennison backing her up was unlooked for and welcome. At least she could trust the big alpha to get Travis away should the worst happen.

  Kellan stepped forward and cleared his throat. “My lady, we are here on the authority of the Council of Alphas.”

  “Really?” Arching her brow, she looked pointedly along the line. “What the entire council? Because I count only five. There are nine packs.”

  The wolves behind Kellan looked discomforted. None would meet her gaze. She transferred her attention back to Kellan, the spokesperson.

  “We won by a majority vote. The remaining alphas have elected to return to their holdings.”

  Translation: they hadn’t voted against her, but neither would they stand with her against the other alphas.

  “I see.”

  She didn’t say anything else, just waited. And like most people presented with a silence, Kellan hurried to fill it.

  “The Council of Alphas requests that the Mistress of the City, Reena Leroy, relinquish her position. That she cede all rights and responsibilities therein to the Council immediately due to her unhealthy relationship with the human known as Archer Davis.”

  “Human?”

  “Unhealthy?”

  The protests came behind her, from Travis and Jennison. She held her hand up for silence, still looking at the small group of alphas gathered in front of her.

  “Of course, I’d be happy to step down,” she said, her voice dangerously low. “Which one of you will face me in challenge?”

  Three alphas went so pale, she was sure they were about to pass out, but Kellan’s jaw set, his lips thinning into a narrow line. “That won’t be necessary, my lady. One of David’s pack uncovered a law laid down by one of your predecessors that allows the Master or Mistress of the City to be removed under a certain set of circumstances. One of those was in the case of said Master or Mistress being moonstruck.”

  She couldn’t help it, she barked out a laugh. “You think I’m moonstruck?”

  Moonstrike was rare, affecting only a few wolves in a generation, usually when they had sex for the first time. They became fixated on one partner, not necessarily their destined mate, and often pined away when that person was removed or left. Most afflicted died.

  “Well, how else do you explain your attachment to this human? Or your unwillingness to put him aside and take a more suitable mate?”

  “I don’t fucking believe it.” Fury raged within her, and she stood, making at least two of the alphas flinch. Behind them the massed crowds of the court were backing off in an ever increasing circle. “We’re back to the fact you think I should be fucking you, aren’t we, Kellan?”

  “Well, you cannot argue I do not have the correct credentials.” To his credit, he held her gaze as she stalked down the steps. “I am a born wolf and alpha of my pack. I. Am. Not. Human. I am worthy.”

  She opened her mouth to snap that he was also a fucking asshole, but something just on the edge of hearing paused her in her tracks.

  A low, dangerous sounding growl rumbled throughout the room, freezing the wolves of the court in place. It wasn’t lycan. It struck fear into the hearts of even a wolf, something that reached inside them all and triggered their survival instincts like their own growls did to the human population.

  The sound they all knew, but none had actually heard.

  Hellhound.

  Legends said they once walked amongst wolf-kind. Creatures of the night and the pit, who bred with humans to create the first werewolves. Lycan ancestors, but also the bogeymen who haunted their dreams. Behave or the hellhounds will get you was a refrain used by lycan parents.

  No one actually thought they existed.

  They shouldn’t exist.

  They were just a story…

  “Human? What makes you think I was ever human?”

  The court and the alphas scattered from the deep voice. Reena caught her breath, hand over her mouth as a figure emerged from the shadows at the end of the room. Archer, but as she’d never seen him.

  He was dressed for the evening, but his jacket and tie were gone. The fine silk of his shirt pulled over his muscled chest and broad shoulders, and as he walked, shadows trailed him like a cloak. His eyes had changed. Not to the amber of a wolf. Instead, fire burned in their depths. As she watched, his claws lengthened one by one, each announced by a scraping slide that reminded her of a sword pulled from its sheath.

  “You…you’re not human.” Kellan took a step back, fear leeching from his pores as Archer approached.

  He’d always been tall and broad-shouldered, but now he was taller, and getting bigger the longer Reena looked at him. She swallowed, fighting her natural instincts to run. He was shifting, slowly, in front of them. No fur flowed over his skin. It looked harder, like armor plates. His face began to change, a muzzle pushing forward.

  “No,” he growled, each step ringing out as he approached Kellan. “Never have been. Looked it. Acted it. Took a dose of lycan virus to wake me…but now, I’m here.”

  He shoved his face down into Kellan’s until the men were nose to nose. “You have a problem with me in the female’s bed…so let’s have it out. Change, wolf…and let’s see who is worthy of her.”

  She made to leap forward, to get between Archer and Kellan, but a hard hand on her arm stopped her. Turning, she looked up into Travis’s face. His expression was hard. “No. This has to play out.”

  Shit. He was right. It did.

  Biting her lip, she looked at the two men. Kellan held his ground, matching Archer glare for glare. The sound of tearing fabric filled the room as Archer’s shirt gave at the back, two bony spines rising and fanning out.

  “Shit. No one said they had bloody wings!”

  A whisper of awe and fear rolled around the room, even Reena’s eyes widened as the full magnificence of Archer’s half form, somewhere between man and beast, was revealed. Large fangs jutted from his muzzle and he pulled back his lips to snarl.

  “Fuck. He’s going for it,” Travis whispered, as a wash of power flooded the room. Kellan pulling power from his wolf a second before he launched himself into a shift.

  Alphas could shift fast and have teeth in their prey’s throat within half a heartbeat. It was what made them so feared, and the more powerful an alpha, the faster the shift. Apart from Reena herself, she’d never seen anymore change faster than Kellan.

  He leapt forward, his wolf form exploding out of his body as he flew toward Archer. But it wasn’t fast enough, wasn’t ever going to be fast enough, and all those who watched knew.

  Almost lazily, Archer reached out and caught Kellan midleap. One massive hand grabbed the big wolf around the throat, stopping him without even a stagger back. Desperately, Kellan whined and struggling, snapping his jaws and trying to claw Archer’s arm. All to no avail. Easily, Archer held the fully-shifted wolf, raising his arm to look Kellan in the eye as though the lycan were nothing more than an interesting bug.

  A snarl rumbled up from his massive chest and he roared right in the scared wolf’s face. With a quick movement, he snapped Kellan’s neck and threw the still quivering corpse in front of Reena.

  “He was not worthy.” With that, Archer went down on one knee and tilted his head to the side.

  Offering his throat.

  Offering fealty.

  To her.

  “Holy shit,” Travis breathed. “We’re never getting rid of you as Mistress now.”

  Chapter Three

  He smelled their fear as he passed, like an exotic perfume teasing his senses.

  Archer straightened his spine and flexed his wings. Wings. Huh, even he hadn’t expected that when he’d opened the gateway in his soul and let the other in. As he’d suspected,
the thing woken within him wasn’t lycan.

  It was something else. Something far older and far darker. Something that, like the lycan virus, he’d been born with. It had been waiting, hidden in his DNA, for something to wake it. In his case, that had been the lycan blood coursing through his veins when he’d used Seth’s claw to infect himself. It had risen, roaring into life and tried to make sense of the lycan conversion underway.

  That had been why he hadn’t shifted fully. He wasn’t supposed to be a wolf.

  But a creature that scared the shit out of all these wolves.

  His steps rang out against the polished floor as he followed Reena across the hall. The lycans shrank back, which made him hide a smile. Didn’t they realize that if he wanted them dead, they would be? The only thing that kept them safe was the petite woman walking in front of him.

  He allowed his gaze to caress her curves. She was the constant in his life. The one thing that had brought him through the madness as the two viruses fought within his body. She’d put herself in harm’s way to save him. Far more than she realized because if his hound hadn’t taken a liking to her, she wouldn’t have survived, even when it was weak.

  But both man and hound liked Reena. More than liked her…

  Ours… The being within rumbled, a note of possessiveness in its mental voice.

  Ours, indeed, he agreed, speeding his steps to catch up with her before she reached the door. Without speaking he scooped her into his arms, throwing her over his shoulder to stride through the corridors to her quarters.

  Their quarters. After that little altercation, he doubted anyone was going to challenge his right to be in her bed again.

  Ever.

  “Archer! Put me down!” she squeaked in surprise at his move, but didn’t struggle. Her body was tense and she clutched at his waist, her long hair spilling down his back and tickling his folded wings. The feather-light touch sent a shiver of lust through him.

  “No chance, babe. There’s one place this is heading.”