Honored Vow (11 page)

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Authors: Mary Calmes

BOOK: Honored Vow
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Shit.

“His father was the one with the knife.”

I braced myself on the wall.

“If I see him, anywhere, at any time, I’ll kill him. Pit or no pit, Crane’s father is dead,” he said, and his voice was dark with purpose.

I nodded my agreement.

Chapter Six

 

T
HE
knock on the door came just minutes after nine that night, and Artem Varda, Yuri’s second, walked through the door a moment before Logan. I stood, the whole room stood, and my mate waited. It was my place to go to him, and when I moved, everyone stepped back. It was like I was a leper or something; no one wanted me to touch them.

Logan drew me up against his side, tucking me there, and I inhaled him, his scent, put my hands on him and leaned.

“Please.”

I opened my eyes and saw Miguel reach for the edge of the table and grab it tight.

“Semel-netjer, I ask your forgiveness for my trespass against your reah and humbly beg you to remove him from my territory. I have granted your brother the status of duat and will offer him no further jeopardy as long as he honors his place and never shifts.”

“What trespass did you make against my reah?”

“May I speak?”

Logan turned his head to Domin, who was standing between Yuri and Artem. “The semel of the tribe of Deshret has given to your brother; let us return the favor and depart.”

“Can we go home now?” I asked my mate.

“Yes,” Logan said quickly, his arms tightening around me. “Are you packed?”

“I never unpacked,” I told him.

The nervousness in the room was palpable, and I understood that it was because they were uncomfortable sitting there in clothes from overnight bags or ones that someone had had to go and fetch for them. Miguel Garza and his people had all shifted; ripped through the clothes they came in, and were wearing new ones procured from stores close by. They wanted to leave, wanted to rinse away the night and forget that another panther had turned them inside out, pulling them through their shift, rendering them powerless. It was humiliating, and every instinct screamed at them to simply slink away and hide. But that wasn’t the law. The law said that Logan had to be greeted, and so they remained. If Miguel had left to go home and shower, he would have looked weak in front of my mate, so he stayed even though the reek of sweat and come and pain and arousal clung to his hair and skin like a sticky July afternoon

Sitting there, waiting for him to give the word that they could go, had to be maddening.

“I accept your terms, semel,” Logan said, stepping away from me, walking over to Miguel Garza, who rose to shake hands with my mate. “And thank you for your care of my brother.”

He sighed deeply. “Your reah is dangerous, semel-netjer, and though I would like to seek justice for the shift that was forced on myself and my house, I also saw you in the pit in Sobek and do not want to challenge you.”

“May I offer you some other reparation?”

“I would accept any that you would see fit to offer.”

“I will have my sylvan contact yours and set terms.”

He bowed his head, covering their joined hands with his other. “My thanks, semel-netjer.”

I trembled because it was over and I could go home to Crane.

“May I present to you my sheseru and sylvan?”

I crossed the room, away from the others, and looked out at the lights of the pier while Logan met Miguel’s household.

“Are you well, my reah?”

I lifted my eyes to Artem. He was tall, almost as tall as Yuri, but leaner, and I liked his dark-brown beard and mustache. They were striking on him. “I am. How was your trip?”

“Quick,” he said, smiling at me. “I’m glad you’re coming home, Crane needs you. He won’t shift back, and we can’t let him out to run on the grounds because we’re afraid of what he might do to himself.”

I nodded. “So he’s locked in a room in his panther form?”

“He’s not locked up, all he has to do is shift and he can get out.”

“But he won’t.”

“No.”

I took a breath. “I just want to go home.”

He was looking at me, staring, and I saw his brown eyes bleed to cat green a moment before he dropped to the floor.

I had not been there to protect Crane. I had let him be taken and violated and maimed. How could I have done that? He was my best friend, the closest thing I had to a brother.

“No!” Miguel shouted, and it was chaos in seconds, everyone yelling, the fear and panic drowning me, choking me.

“Jin!”

I lifted my head, and Logan was there and I was wrapped in strong arms and held tight.

“Logan!” Justin roared.

“Baby, I’m here,” my mate told me.

I clung to him, pressing against him as hard as I could, freezing suddenly, wanting to draw every bit of warmth I could from him.

“You’re panicking, and you don’t need to,” he soothed me. “I’m right here. You’re safe.”

I was trembling, my teeth chattering as he tightened his hold so I could feel his heart beating. I felt a hand in my hair, his other arm around my waist, and his lips on my forehead as he tried to soothe me with his presence, with his body. He smelled like stale air and musk, with a faint trace of the cologne I had bought him for Christmas. I wanted to crawl inside him where I knew it was safe. I clutched at him, my fingers digging into the hard muscles of his back, holding on.

“Logan!” Justin yelled. “Either claim your reah or step aside!”

“He’s mine!” Logan roared out his ownership, and the primal sound sent a flush of heat through me, my mouth opening on his throat.

“Show me,” Justin challenged him.

Logan’s low growl was answered by my moan that was part growl, part purr.

I was spun around hard and slammed against the window, only my hands splayed on the glass keeping me from going face-first into the hard surface. My sweater was yanked and tugged, and I heard the ripping and then the cool air on my skin as the shredded garment slid off me and fell to the floor at my feet. Logan fisted my hair and pushed my head down, causing a shudder to tear through me.

“Mine,” he whispered in a voice more animal than man as fangs were driven deep into my skin, holding me there hard, pinned, under his teeth.

I whimpered and whined, my cock so hard and needy that, that fast, I was leaking in my jeans.

“Clear the room!” Yuri commanded.

I pressed back against Logan, rubbed, and ground against the now-hardened bulge in his dress pants, sliding my crease over his arousal.

“No.” Justin’s voice was cold and hard. “The law states that any semel may watch another semel take his mate at any time. Miguel and I will remain.”

“Yareah,” Domin Thorne answered him, his voice just as icy as Justin’s had been moments before. “Not reah, never reah. No one shall bear witness to a semel taking his true-mate.”

Domin knew his law well.

“Get the fuck out,” he growled from low in his chest.

“So the maahes of the tribe of Mafdet commands,” Yuri said, his voice booming through the room. “On his word—out!”

I was panting with my devouring need and did not follow all the movement behind me, but when the door slammed shut, Logan withdrew his fangs and took a step back from me.

Whirling around, I lifted my face to his, and I saw that his eyes had bled to all gold. He had not shifted to his werepanther form, but he was trembling on the verge of it.

My body responded to the strength in him, his beauty and dominance. I got out of my clothes as fast as I could, kicking off my sneakers, unbuckling my belt, shucking out of my jeans and underwear until I was naked in front of him. He had watched me, not touching his own clothes, gold-slitted eyes instead locked on my body, running over it, never leaving me.

When he reached out a hand, I saw claws where there should have been fingers.

I fell to my knees and went to work on his belt.

“Nekhene,” he growled at me.

I loosened the belt, unhooked the clasp of his suit pants, let them fall, and then eased his briefs down until his enormous cock bounced free. I admired the curve of it, the bronze color, the length and girth, the prominent vein that ran down the side and the wide, flared tip before I rose up and took him down the back of my throat.

His cry of pleasure filled the room. A second later I felt the sharp claws in my hair, gliding over my scalp as he held me against him, making sure that his cock would remain buried in my hot, wet mouth.

I sucked hard, licked, swirled my tongue around the length of him, pulled back to trace the underside, leaned forward to bathe his balls, using my hand to tug and pull gently but firmly, swallowing the dripping precome before I took him in again from swollen head to base. He pushed in and out of my mouth, holding me there, his hand fisted in my hair.

When he pulled away, I tried to recapture him, but he used my hair like a leash as he lifted me to my feet and hurled me backward onto the bed. I hit it and rolled and he was on me, lifting my ass into the air. I heard him spit once and then again, and when his long, hard, rough tongue pushed into my opening, I cried out.

Normally there was lube, normally there were his talented fingers, but there was nothing, and he did not want to hurt me with his claws. He spit again, and I writhed against him as I felt his thighs brush the backs of mine.

“My reah,” he snarled as I felt the head of his cock at my entrance.

But that wasn’t me. I was a nekhene cat and I was free; no one owned me.

He felt me tense in rebellion and responded. “Mine!”

I hissed out a moan as claws were driven into my hips, holding me still as he pushed inside me, slowly spreading me open, easing past the tight rings of muscle, pressing deeper and deeper.

The nekhene in me stilled, quieted, waited through the welcome jolt of pain.

My mate.

The man was my mate, and I wanted to be claimed more than I wanted to breathe.

He pressed into me, pushing, never stopping until he was fully seated inside, buried to the hilt. I was so full, so stretched, and the pain was white hot even as it began to change from burn to pulse to aching, throbbing need.

“Logan,” I cried as my muscles clenched around him, spasming.

He pulled back, sliding slowly, and then he thrust back into me, hard and deep.

“Oh please,” I begged him, loving the feel of the man sheathed in me.

The action was repeated over and over, his rhythm set in seconds, again and again, fucking me, the length of him sliding easily in and out of my slick, clenching channel.

It was not tender, it was bruising, and I was held down, like a mating, the rutting that animals did, until he was coated in a sheen of sweat. What changed it to more was his hand, morphed from the clawed version back to human, on my face, turning my head, lifting my chin so he could take possession of my mouth as well as my body. Our lips melded together, and heat flared between us, his desire and mine exactly the same—to be one. He demanded surrender, and I gave it. When I felt his hand grip my cock, just that much pressure over sensitized flesh brought my orgasm roaring up out of me in a blinding rush. My muscles flexed around his hardness, tightening all at once, hugging his shaft and wringing his shuddering release from him seconds later.

He collapsed on top of me, pinning me to the bed under him, both of us heaving and spent, panting for air.

“Maybe you should take me with you from now on,” I finally said, smiling, turning my head to nuzzle aside his sweaty hair and kiss his temple.

His body was shivering with aftershocks, my channel still rippling around him, holding him tight. “Maybe,” he agreed before he started to laugh.

I could feel his heart beating against my back, the rumbling of his laughter, and his throbbing cock still buried deep inside me. Every part of me was sated and satisfied, and even the part that rebelled against the bond of reah and semel recognized the claim that Logan had just marked in my flesh with his teeth and claws.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

I shook my head as he pressed a hot kiss to the side of my neck.

“You belong to me, Jin; every part of you, every piece is mine.”

Yes. “Yours,” I agreed.

The deep, satisfied male grunt made me smile.

He eased gently from my body and rolled me over to my back before he lifted to his knees. I was naked, and so was he, from the waist down.

“You look like I had my way with you,” he said, smiling wickedly.

“You look pretty much the same.” I arched an eyebrow for his benefit.

He pounced on me, and I was laughing as he kissed me, wrapping me in his strong arms, holding me tight as he took possession of my mouth.

I kissed him back, tangling my tongue with his, tasting him, sucking and nibbling, arms and legs holding him tight.

“Say it,” he whispered breathlessly, taking a gulp of air so he could kiss me some more.

“Logan,” I gasped, panting, “I love you.”

“And I love you,” he said, his eyes locked on mine, his fingers combing through the long, thick hair that fell to the middle of my back. “I love nothing and no one more.”

I pulled him down for another kiss, and he chuckled into my mouth.

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