Fated Redemption [Kindred of Arkadia 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (5 page)

To his left he heard women’s laughter. He turned to see his mate flexing for the group of older women

and they were catcalling and cheering him on. Rhys laughed out loud at the spectacle.

“Leave me alone!” Peyton’s frantic voice had Rhys turning to see what was going on. While he had

been distracted ogling his mate, the wolf beta Glenn had come in and was harassing Peyton. He was seated

at a booth and had a hand wrapped around Peyton’s upper arm. Gina and Cecelia looked scared. Rhys bit

back a growl.

“Rhys, darlin’, can I get a cup of boiling water for some tea?” Rian asked, his usually playful eyes

serious. Grinning evilly, he went over to the hot water dispenser and filled an entire water glass full of

extremely hot water.

“Here you go, Rian.”

“Thank you, darlin’.” Rian stood with the glass and walked over to the booth. Damian slid off the

barstool and quietly walked the long way about the bar so that he was standing behind the booth unseen by

the wolf. Rian, however, made no efforts to hide. He swaggered right up to where Glenn was shaking

Peyton around like a puppet.

“Come on, you little slut. I know you must have missed me.” Glenn growled.

“Hey, Peyton, when are you coming by to take my order? Oops!” Rian acted like he tripped over one of

the chairs and the tall glass of scalding hot water was flung into the beta’s face and completely saturated the

man from eyebrow to groin.

The beta immediately released Peyton who ducked behind Rian and roared out his anger. He cocked his

arm back to punch Rian when Damian shoved the long wooden booth, forward pinning the beta between

the booth and the table.

“Oh. Sorry, didn’t see you there. I dropped a quarter and thought it would be under this booth, I didn’t

know you were sitting here.” Damian even managed to sound sorry.

Glenn shoved the seat back and squared off against Rian and Damian.

“I’m going to kill you!” he yelled.

Rian turned to Damian.

“That sounds like a death threat to me. Does that sound like a death threat to you?”

“Why yes it does. Ms. Tully, did that sound like a death threat to you ladies?” Damian asked, raising his

voice.

“Yes it did, Damian dear.” Ms. Tully and the entire sewing circle glared daggers at the beta.

“I don’t need to call the Sheriff, do I?” Moe asked, moving to stand directly between Glenn and Rian

and Damian.

“No, I’m leaving. We can catch up later, Peyton,” he sneered. He pushed past Moe and left.

“What a D-bag!” Ms. Tully exclaimed.

“You can say that again Ms. Tully,” Rian agreed.

Rhys came from behind the bar to check on Peyton.

“Are you okay, Peyton?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m fine thanks to Rian and Damian.” He turned to the two lions.

“You guys were so badass!” he said excitedly. Peyton was staring at them with stars in his eyes.

Rian grinned and high-fived Damian.

“Come on, little man, we’ll tell you some of our college escapades.” Damian wrapped a brotherly arm

around Peyton.

“When are they going to leave us alone?” Rhys asked turning to his mate.

“As soon as Salsiby realizes he doesn’t have a case.” Moe leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.

“How are you doing?” Moe frowned his concern.

“Tonight has been a good night, despite that asshole making a scene. I feel comfortable in my own skin

for the first time in a long time.”

“See, Fate knew what she was doing. I own a bar and you’re a bartender. Perfect fit.”

“I don’t know what I did to earn her favor but I am not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.” Rhys

stood on tiptoe to whisper into his mate’s ear.

“What time does the bar close?”

“2:00 a.m.,” was the whimpered response.

“See you a minute after two.” Rhys kissed the side of Moe’s neck and went back to the bar. When he

looked back over to where his mate stood he could almost see the wheels turning. Rhys smiled, wondering

how his mate would get them to close early.

Game on.

* * * *

“I can’t believe you said we were doing a fire drill!” Rhys laughed as he helped close out the tills. It had

taken his mate all of two minutes to announce loudly that they would be closing early for the night. Ms.

Tully and the ladies had been extremely understanding and giggled as they filed out. Gina and Cecelia

waved good-bye, blushing. He and Moe managed to close the bar down in record time.

Rhys looked over at his mate who was wiping down the bar with the biggest smile on his face. He

pushed down a rising sense of panic. He could do this. He would do anything to make his mate happy. Moe

finished up and threw the washcloth into the sink. When he looked up and saw Rhys’s face he froze.

“Baby?”

“I’m good, just nervous I guess. Which is crazy right? I mean it’s not like I’m a blushing virgin and

we’re mates.” Rhys knew he was babbling but couldn’t help it.

“First, I don’t want to hear about you with anyone else. To me you’re as pure as the newly driven

snow.” Rhys snorted. Moe ignored him.

“Second, yes we’re mates, but that doesn’t mean instant intimacy. It’s something we’re going to have to

build together.” Moe walked over and simply took his hands.

“Let’s go to bed.”

Rhys nodded.

“Let’s go.”

Chapter 3

As they passed Peyton’s room the door flew open.

“See! I’m wearing earphones! Have fun!” Peyton yelled and then disappeared behind his shut door

again.

Rhys stunned looked over at Moe, who was grinning widely.

“I could kiss him right now,” Moe shook his head at Peyton’s antics. Rhys hissed and started to back his

mate’s six-foot-eight body toward the stairs to their apartment.

“Mine!” Rhys hissed. Moe closed his eyes and shuddered.

“God yes, I’m yours.” He opened his eyes.

“Do you have any idea how sexy you are right now?”

Rhys didn’t say anything, he just stalked forward, moving his mate away from the younger, smaller

male to their apartment.

Once inside their apartment Rhys pounced, pushing Moe back onto their bed. He pushed his hips

forward and ground his rock-hard cock against his mate. They both moaned. Moe reached up and pulled

Rhys’s head forward. Rhys couldn’t get enough of Moe’s tongue. They dueled back and forth as their

bodies thrust against each other. Without conscious thought his fangs descended and nicked Moe’s lip. His

mate never even noticed in his lust-filled haze, but everything in Rhys shifted. That one small sip of blood

changed everything. He straddled his mate and jerked his head to one side exposing the long muscular

column of Moe’s neck. Rhys leaned forward and at the last second realized what he was doing.

Breathing hard, Rhys sat back letting go of Moe’s head letting it roll back. Moe’s gray eyes looked at

him questioningly. Rhys knew that if he asked, Moe would give him every ounce of his blood and god help

him, he may take it. Disgusted, he propelled himself backward. He flew across the room until his back

slammed against the far wall. He allowed his body to slide down and wrapped his arms around his legs.

Behind his eyelids he was back in the dark room. Every echoed sound teased and tortured him.

Was blood coming today? He was so hungry. He knew that the crazy fuck that held him killed the

people whose blood he fed from, but he didn’t care anymore. His throat burned. He felt like had swallowed

pieces of glass his throat was so dry. He needed more. Why didn’t that psycho just kill someone already?

Oh god! He didn’t mean that, but he needed blood so badly.

“Rhys?” He heard a voice above him. Was the man back to taunt him again?

“Rhys, baby, you’re scaring me. Open your eyes,” the familiar voice called to him again.

He looked up and hissed at the man to stay away. There was only sadness, no fear in those gray eyes.

“Come back to me, Rhys.”

Why couldn’t he just leave him alone!
Rhys hissed low at the large man.

“You can’t leave me. I won’t let you. If you need my blood take it! Take every fucking drop, just don’t

leave me. I can’t be alone again. I won’t!” Rhys eyed the man suspiciously. Tears ran down his cheeks in

steady streams.

“Please.” The deep voice broke as it pleaded.

“You have to come back. You’re my miracle.”

It was as if that single word held power over him.
Miracle.

Gray eyes that smiled in kindness.
Miracle.

Unconditional acceptance and support.
Miracle.

His mate. His mate Moe, who had helped to nurse him back from the brink of hell.

Moe!

“Moe?” He gasped. The muscles in his throat constricted, demanding blood.

“I’m here, baby! I’m here. What do you need?” Moe asked, placing his hands on the tops of Rhys’s feet.

“Blood. Hurry,” he croaked.

Moe didn’t ask for explanation or permission. He simply scooped him up as if he weighed nothing and

ran down the stairs. He cleared the second floor and before Rhys could blink they were at the ground level

and heading toward the back of the bar where his blood storage refrigerator stood. Moe shifted Rhys so that

he was holding him on his hip with one arm and with the other flung the freezer door open.

He ran inside and simply grabbed a handful of medical donation bags. He put Rhys down on the

counter and grabbed a knife from a drawer. He punctured a bag and drained it into a glass. He put it in the

microwave for a minute and turned back to face him.

“Hold on, baby, it’s coming.”

Rhys kept his eyes closed. In his head he was counting down.
59, 58, 57.
Not nearly soon enough, the

microwave dinged, and Moe, heedless of the hot glass, handed him the warmed liquid. As he was gulping

down the warm, thick liquid, he heard Moe put a second glass in the microwave. His body welcomed the

rush the blood heralded, the fire in his veins. He upended the glass and used his tongue to capture every

drop. A second ding, a second glass. It wasn’t until the sixth ding did that the rush subsided and his mind

began to clear.

When he looked around he saw scattered blood-stained glasses. He looked down and to his horror he

had dripped blood down his chin and chest. His mate stood there, chest heaving, tears in his eyes. The

shame he felt threatened to destroy his humanity.

He covered his eyes, unable to face his mate. Anger consumed him.

“Why!” His ragged cry reverberated off of the stainless steel appliances.

“Why did this happen? Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this?” Each word came from his gut and

burned his throat as he screamed. Moe simply stood there, silently waiting.

Rhys picked up the glasses and threw them against the walls. They shattered, covering the walls with

flecks of blood. When he ran out of glasses he reached for the chrome stools and hurled them across the

room. He was reaching for the table when large hands pulled him against a hard body.

“No! No! I’m not your mate. You deserve someone who is whole. Get off me! Get away!” Rhys

struggled in Moe’s arms, trying to get away. He would move back in with the coven, lock himself away to

keep Moe safe.

“Shut the fuck up,” the low voice growled.

The bass of the gravelly request had Rhys freezing mid-struggle.

In two steps Moe had him against the wall.

“You want blood? Fucking drink it! You want to break every glass in this bar? I’ll line them up for you.

You want to redecorate our kitchen with a barstool be my guest, but if I ever hear you say you aren’t my

mate I will shake the ever-loving shit out of you and claim you, whether you want it or not. You are mine!

Every strand of your gorgeous blond hair, every muscle that hypnotizes me when I watch you move, every

tear you cry, every smile, every fucking thing is
mine
!” Moe reached down and in one powerful jerk ripped

Rhys’s pants down the front.

Before he knew what was happening, Moe lifted him in the air and with his large hands supporting him

under his ass, his mate had him pinned against the wall, his groin at eye level. Before he could say a word

of protest Moe swallowed his entire cock down. He bobbed up and down frantically, taking in every inch.

Rhys moaned out loud. It had been so damn long since he had even come. The addiction had

overridden even his sex drive.

Moe came up off his cock and Rhys whimpered. Moe dipped back down and licked and nibbled his

balls as they rose up against his body. He was so damn close.

“Please.”

Moe stopped and looked up at him, meeting his lust-filled gaze from across his body.

“Please who?”

“Please, my mate.”

Moe roared loud enough that the vibrations shook his body. Moe shifted his hands and placed Rhys’s

legs over his shoulders. Using one hand to support his weight, his shoulders to pin him against the wall,

Moe had freed his other hand. Using his saliva he slicked up his fingers. Seconds later the sensation of one

of Moe’s large digits penetrating him as his mate’s throat convulsed around his cock was enough to send

him to the sky.