Bailey Bradford - Southwestern Shifters 07 - Revolution (2 page)

Luuk snarled and twisted Jameson’s nipple at the same time he thrust, the threat of a dry fuck stimulating Jameson even more. He’d found the blacker his moods had been, the more he needed the pain, but Luuk had rules he wouldn’t break.

Jameson grunted as he was rolled roughly onto his belly. The cold, hard ground scraped his cock and his prominent hip bones but both hurts only fed his desire. Luuk straddled the backs of his thighs and parted Jameson’s cheeks. Jameson wished he was clean, wished he could feel Luuk’s mouth on him there. He quashed the threat of reality intruding as Luuk spat and rubbed saliva over his opening. More moisture, then Luuk dropped down over his back.

“Get your hand under yourself,” he ordered, sliding one arm beneath Jameson’s shoulder. He gripped him there and guided his cock to Jameson’s hole with his other hand. Jameson had no sooner fisted his own length than Luuk rumbled and began pushing in, the slow, fierce burn almost too much. But Jameson needed to be pushed, to not be able to think, and so he tried to push back, to force more of Luuk inside his ass.

“No.” Just the one word, so sternly spoken, and Jameson’s cock throbbed, ready to spurt his release on the ground. He ringed the base tight with his finger and thumb.
Luuk moved Jameson’s leg, hitching it out to the side, then he added more saliva to his cock. The slow, steady thrust continued, spreading Jameson open, gentler than he wanted, but Luuk knew. Luuk always knew what he needed.
Jameson refused to think about why he wanted to be hurt, why he thought he needed to be punished. It wasn’t a game for him, but something he knew was warped, damaged in his core.
“You are
not
damaged,” Luuk rasped. “You are
mine!”
He surged forward, sinking his cock in until his balls slapped Jameson’s.
The bright bolt of pain was nothing compared to the pleasure of feeling Luuk taking him like this. Jameson cried out, tears leaking from his eyes at the exquisite rightness of them being together.
Luuk undulated against him and Jameson cried out again, squeezing his dick hard and clawing at the ground with his other hand. Then Luuk licked his neck, and Jameson knew what was coming, knew his mind and body were going to be shattered in a flood of pleasurepain that would drive out everything else.
When Luuk withdrew his cock, stretching Jameson’s tender opening with the broad flared head, he suckled the join of neck and shoulder, driving needy sounds from Jameson. Then he thrust in, all strength on desire, at the same time he bit, and Jameson screamed.
Luuk caught the scream with his hand, covering Jameson’s mouth to muffle the noise that could well give them away. How he could think was beyond Jameson, because he was taken over by Luuk, by what they had between them, but Luuk’s thick cock splitting his ass open and his teeth sinking into Jameson’s flesh.
And yet Jameson held his climax back, knowing when he came he’d pull Luuk right under with him. He didn’t want this to end, wanted Luuk inside him forever—the two of them safe, Luuk on him, over him, fucking him with the long, hard strokes like he was doing now.
Jameson found himself jerked up onto his knees. He got his hands under him, ready to be ridden to oblivion, but Luuk used the arm under him to pull Jameson back, until he was kneeling and Luuk was hammering into him with short thrusts that bordered on brutal.
Luuk kept his mouth sealed over the bite mark, but he dislodged his teeth, his breath coming in rough pants as his hips stuttered, his rhythm shot. Jameson leaned his head back, bowing his body, seeking every bit of pleasure he could get. Luuk slid his hand down Jameson’s chest, scratching over his sore tit then going lower to find Jameson’s hand on his cock.
When Luuk’s hand went further down, past his balls and between his legs to where their bodies were joined, Jameson was lost. He stroked his cock once, ecstasy shooting up from his balls to spurt from his slit. He clenched every muscle in his body, couldn’t even make a sound as he came. There was a roaring in his ears, which he thought was his own heartbeat, but his head felt light and he finally gasped, his lungs on fire.
Luuk then pulled Jameson’s hips back, holding them together as he spilled his cum into Jameson. He whispered words of love and devotion, and words of hope, in Jameson’s ear, in his head, and Jameson let himself believe it could and would be okay, sometime soon.
It was one of those perfect moments, one they’d had all too rarely since leaving America, and Jameson was thrilled when the power of it pulled him down into a sated sleep almost instantly.

The small cave served as a respite from the dreaded snow and constant moving. Luuk hated to leave it, but they’d been there too long—three days now, and even that had been two days more than they should have stayed.

The opportunity to spend a few peaceful hours with his mate, in human form, had been too great to pass up. Even though they had to shift into their wolf forms to survive the cold, there’d still be those precious hours together where he had held Jamie in his arms.

Jamie had needed that, needed more, but there simply wasn’t time. Luuk could feel the hunters approaching, even if he couldn’t scent or see them. His instincts had kept them alive—albeit sometimes just barely—since they’d had to run. Luuk wouldn’t discount them now.

He turned to look at Jamie, noting the new lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes, the pinched look to his chapped lips. Shifters shouldn’t age so fast. It hurt Luuk, a physical ache, to see what he was doing to Jamie.

“It isn’t your fault,” Jamie said as he rolled onto his knees from where he’d been laying. “You didn’t start the coup.”
Luuk shrugged. The guilt was his. Anyone would carry it if they’d endangered their mate and brought them into such harsh circumstances. “We have to leave here.” He saw the sadness flit through Jamie’s eyes. More and more, he saw it, felt it. Jamie tried to hide it from him, and that hurt, but Luuk respected Jamie’s need for privacy.
If it worried him—which it often did, as he felt the blackness swell and ebb in Jamie— he was guilty of his own secrets by not letting Jamie know his secret wasn’t a secret.
Jamie shifted into a beautiful brown wolf without another word and trotted over to rub against Luuk’s legs. Sometimes his mate acted more like a cat than a wolf, and Luuk found it endearing. He reached down and scratched behind Jamie’s ears before bending more to receive a faceful of licks.
“I love you, too, Jamie. So much.” So much his eyes burned and he had to squeeze his eyes shut tight to keep the tears back. Although why he bothered… It wasn’t like he couldn’t be himself with his mate, but Luuk was the Alpha Anax.
Or had been. He still considered himself the rightful AA, anyways. And years of being the alpha, of being all strength and power and leadership—well, Luuk rarely let himself cry, although sometimes in the darkness he had to give in.
Luuk shifted, immediately feeling a hundred times warmer. His own coat was thick and pale grey with flecks of cream and black in it. He tended to blend in better than Jamie’s lovely brown, which worried him to no end.
Together they cautiously began to descend the snow-covered slope. A third of the way down, Luuk stopped and turned to his right, leading them over rough and sharply angled terrain. The rocks beneath the snow were dangerous. One slip and Jamie could be seriously hurt.
By the time they reached the other side of the mountain, having stayed off all paths, it was almost dark and the sensation of being followed had only grown stronger. Luuk had hoped to put some miles between them and that feeling.
He and Jamie hadn’t even bothered trying to find food, and now he was worn out, and Jamie was moving sluggishly. Luuk was afraid Jamie’s black mood was more responsible for that than the lack of food.
“We can’t stop yet.”
Luuk shared the thought with his mate, adding a mental caress as well as nuzzling Jamie’s nape.
Jamie gave him a dull look before shaking out his coat and apparently shaking off his mood. It was just appearances, perhaps, but it did make Luuk feel a little better. How long could Jamie keep living like this? How long could he?
They trekked on, Luuk keeping a conversation going with Jamie telepathically, knowing they both needed it. The moon had risen high and bright by the time Luuk caught a whiff of civilisation. It was hard to describe it except as an end of the pure, clean air.
“Where do you think we are?”
Jamie asked.
Luuk racked his brain.
“We were in Austria months ago. Slovakia, maybe?”
Luuk snorted delicately.
“We could even be in Poland, or further even. It feels like we’ve run the whole globe.”
“No kidding. Do you think…?”
Jamie looked away, towards the direction the not-so-clean air had come from.
Luuk wished he knew. Jamie was afraid to hope that they could actually make it to civilisation, and Luuk couldn’t blame him. Even if they did make it, what then? It was a sure bet every hidden stash Luuk had in banks around the world had been compromised. If not, they were almost certainly monitored. All his accounts, all the information for them, had been at his residence, which had been taken from him.
Every bit of personal information that could have helped him—names of people he trusted, escape routes and plans, money—all of it had been lost to him. It didn’t matter right now, though. What did matter was getting his mate somewhere safe and warm, and making sure he was provided for.
“I’m not helpless. I can provide too.”
Jamie’s calm statement was true enough, but Luuk tried to explain his reasoning.
“Yes, but I want to take care of you. I need to. One day, we can be as we are meant to be.”
“I still feel like we’re being watched,”
Jamie shared.
Luuk lowered his head and listened so hard the silence made his ears burn. He sniffed, raising his nose into the air. Nothing unusual caught his attention. Still, had he been human, his skin would have prickled with goose bumps. As it was, his fur was nearly standing on end.
His instincts were screaming at him that something was wrong. Luuk nudged Jamie hard on the shoulder right before a bullet whizzed through the silence. He didn’t have to tell Jamie to run.
Luuk stayed behind Jamie, hoping to shield him as they ran full-out towards whatever city or town lay ahead. More bullets were fired, one singeing Luuk’s fur and making his skin burn along his left hip. Luuk stumbled. Jamie slowed and Luuk nipped his heel, too scared for his mate to be gentle. He forced himself to run, knowing if he fell, Jamie would stop, and they’d both be dead.

I am
not
helpless! I don’t need to be rescued like some pathetic princess in a fairy tale!
Jameson was scared, though, because Luuk was hurt and yeah, this might be it for them. All his dreams of having a normal—whatever that meant, considering they were shifters—life with his mate, or at least a life where they weren’t constantly trying not to be killed, began to evaporate with each whiff of his mate’s blood.
Then anger came, blowing through Jameson with the force of a volcanic eruption. He was so fucking tied of running!
“Jamie…”
Even Luuk’s mental voice sounded weak, drained, too close to hopeless, and Jameson had just outright had it. He spun on his back paws, pivoting around Luuk in a blur of movement. Jameson clipped Luuk’s hip with his head, knocking him behind a jagged boulder partially covered with snow.
“Stay safe. I love you.”
Jameson put every bit of the love he had for Luuk in the thought. He clamped his mind shut to his mate, and doing so brought out what he’d tried to keep back.
The darkness inside him, the insidious black mood he knew was depression, suffocating all the light, was now pouring through him. It didn’t blanket his anger, instead twining with it in a way to strip Jameson of concern for himself. All he wanted was for Luuk to survive and for this to end. He was so tired. So very tired.
Jameson remembered his grandma telling him God watched over fools and babies, which had seemed contradictory to the Bible—at least the fools part did. He wondered if anything out there in the universe would watch out for him.
Bullets hit the ground beside his front paws, sending up chunks of snow and rock. Pieces of the latter pelted his coat but Jameson didn’t give a shit. Every leaping stride he took fuelled his anger, his determination to protect his mate. Jameson had never killed before, but he knew he was going to this time.
Something inside him was breaking. Luuk had been hurt before, they both had, and Jameson just couldn’t. Deal with it. Accept it. Let it go unpunished.
Fail my mate.
Whether it was his will or luck or skill, he didn’t know or care, but Jameson avoided getting shot as he ran, swerving and jumping, pushing his wolf as far as he could. An outcropping of rocks up on a slippery ledge was where the shots were coming from. Jameson was almost there. He put his nose to the ground and tried to keep his body compact now.
The temptation to check on Luuk was strong, but Jameson was afraid of becoming distracted. That couldn’t happen when he was trying to save Luuk.
Rocks and snow skittered down the slope and it took Jameson a few seconds to realise no more bullets were being fired. He lifted his head and dared to look. Fury spiked his chest when he saw his prey jumping up and taking off. The dark-haired man shifted in mid-stride, turning into a lean black wolf.
Jameson howled his promise of retribution for Luuk’s injury, for years of having to run and hide and barely get by. He dug his nails into the ground with each step, propelling him forward with more force than he’d known he had.
Inside him was the staccato beat of
kill him kill him kill him,
Jameson’s wolf tromping over the man and devouring his morals and qualms. Jameson didn’t fight it. The man in him was too soft, too fucked up to do what needed to be done. He closed his spiritual eyes and let his wolf observe.
The black wolf snarled and came to a skidding halt. He turned and put his ears back. His lips pulled up, exposing long canines and saliva dripping from his muzzle. His dark eyes flashed fear and hatred at Jameson.
Jameson was surprised by the stop, but he quickly saw the reason why. Whether by error and panic or deliberate cunning, the black wolf had brought them to a ledge. Jameson thought it was the former. The black wolf could either go down the mountainside or through Jameson, since he blocked the only path to freedom that wouldn’t kill them.
The black wolf reacted as cornered wild beasts do, anger and fear pouring from him as he howled and charged Jameson. There was no skill, no honour—this was a match of death and neither wolf wanted to lose.
Jameson surged up, locking his front legs around the black wolf’s shoulders. They bit and tore at each other, catching lips and cheeks and ears. Jameson managed to get a mouthful of the other’s shoulder but quickly let go when he felt teeth scrape the side of his neck.
They separated and moved back, eyeing each other. Jameson could smell the fear and the blood on his opponent. His own blood had been spilled, but not like the black wolf’s, whose fur was soaked at the shoulder and glistening in the moonlight.
Jameson saw the flicker of the wolf’s next move before it happened. His instincts seemed to be at their prime, perhaps because he had stepped back as a man and given over to his primeval nature. The black wolf came at him fast, but Jameson was already moving, angling his body, baring his teeth.
By the time the other wolf realised what was happening, Jameson had hopped aside just enough to be able to turn his head and bite deep. Pain shot through his side as his opponent retaliated, tearing at him. But Jameson only growled, his heartbeat calm as blood flowed into his mouth.
The man in him completely shut down as his wolf clamped his jaws tighter and shook his head. The resulting damage to the black wolf was fatal and messy. His wolf didn’t care. The threat was gone, at least the threat to his mate was. For now.
But what price would his human half pay? His wolf howled again, scared and aching, calling out to his mate.