Savage Seduction: A Dire Wolves Mission (The Devil's Dires Book 3) (3 page)

“How the hell did you get in here?”

The room went silent. Mammon grinned, allowing the guard to grab his arm without resisting. It was time to go anyway. “You might want to get better security at the door.”

Finn growled and moved as if to step down from the dais, as if coming to confront Mammon, but Charmeine placed her slender fingers lightly on his bicep. The man stopped, went completely still at the touch of Mammon’s mate. A touch that made Mammon’s wolf sit up and show his teeth. He didn’t like his mate touching another male, especially a known criminal like Finn. A man she seemed to trust. A man about as opposite of Mammon as one could be.

Fuck, he was so screwed.

His mate finally stepped off the platform after a whispered conversation with Finn. The entire room remained quiet, their breaths held in anticipation as Charmeine approached with a cold sort of smile on her face. One that spoke of indifference and attitude. Of being above all those she passed. Still, Mammon couldn’t look away. She was dressed like a woman of wealth—all silk, diamonds, and polish—with her hair perfectly in place and her makeup impeccable. No flaws to focus on, no scars to tell the stories of her life. No substance and certainly no soul that he could detect. Nothing he could see to make her worthy to be the mate of a Dire Wolf.

Except for the fact that she was.

“You got something you want to say, sweetheart?” Mammon gave her a smug sort of smirk, an arrogant tilt of his lips. He knew he shouldn’t push her away, but he was at his wits’ end. He wanted her in the basest way, his body responding to her nearness almost lewdly. But he hated her association with the O’Rourkes and was deeply disturbed that this woman could possibly be the one the fates had chosen for him. Dire Wolves were fighters, warriors, the strongest of the strong, and the most loyal of the breed. And Charmeine was…an associate of Finn O’Rourke.

A fact he couldn’t look beyond.

When Charmeine finally reached him, finally stood close enough that he could smell the scent of freesia drifting around her spun-gold hair, Mammon stood silent and still. Anxious. Not knowing whether to grab her or run from her. Maybe both.

“I do have something to say, sir, though this won’t take long.” Charmeine gestured to the men holding him, a simple hand wave that had them releasing Mammon without question. “You follow my friend Finn, the family O’Rourke that I see as my own. You track them, keep tabs on them, and make them feel unwelcome in this town. Why?”

Mammon shrugged, still holding on to his smirk. Still fighting back his need to kiss the ever-loving hell out of her. “Because I don’t like criminals in my backyard.”

Charmeine laughed, a tinkling sound that made Mammon’s heart soar and his cock harden. Screwed, screwed, double screwed. He knew it, could sense the danger on the air around him. Especially when Charmeine fixed him with an icy stare that dampened what little heat had been sent southward.

“You come into this home under false pretenses and invade O’Rourke personal space, but Finn’s the criminal? I think not.”

Mammon tried not shiver from the way her voice slipped over his senses, but he failed. He failed hard, which only pissed him off even more. The woman would
not
get the better of him. “Look, Barbie. I’m not here to shit in your dream house. I’m just here to make sure the trash gets taken out at the end of the night. Preferably all the way back to New York where it belongs.”

“Oh, dear,” she said, raising her voice so the room could hear. Giving Mammon a glare that could have peeled paint from the walls.
Shit.
“It seems the fates have taken another jab at the Byrne family. They’ve chosen this” —her lips curled up in a sneer that did nothing to hide her beauty— “charming man as my mate.”

The room positively vibrated with the energy of the other shifters. All eyes locked on Mammon, judging him. Sizing him up and finding him lacking, he was sure. But Charmeine didn’t seem to notice. She leaned forward, giving Mammon a sight line down her form-fitting dress to the softest, most lickable cleavage he’d ever seen.

“Take a good look, sir,” she whispered with a deadly tone to her voice. “This is the last chance you have. The fates may have tossed you at me like a raw steak toward a dog, but I’m no mindless animal. I get to choose, and I don’t accept
you
.”

Her open hand slammed into the side of his face in a hard slap that would have probably sent a lesser man spinning. His mate had a strong arm. But Mammon jolted more at the venom in her voice than the slap, at the lethal warning under her words. The woman was
not
screwing around with him. Celtic Barbie had more to her than a pretty face. Much more.

And she looked as if she hated him.

“Get him out of this house.” Charmeine turned and walked away without a second glance, leaving Mammon aching in more ways than one. “The O’Rourkes deserve a night to celebrate. I suggest we get to it.”

Finn met her near the dais, shooting Mammon a curious look as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Whoever Charmeine was to him, he cared for her. Protected her. A fact that ignited a surge of jealous rage inside of him.

“Don’t think this is over,” Mammon said, making sure Finn heard the growl in his voice.

Finn simply shrugged. “It was over before you ever sat down to watch us in the clubs, shifter Mammon. Guards, please escort him out. Without harm.”

As the men holding his arms forcibly removed him from the room, Mammon caught one last glimpse of his mate. She stood in the middle of a crowd of people, everyone clamoring and laughing. Calling her name and reaching for her hand as they congratulated her. She didn’t smile back, didn’t even seem to look most of them in the eye.

In fact, he’d never seen anyone look so alone in such a large group of people.

C
harmeine stalked down the hallway
, her stride long and her anger boiling over to the point that the metaphorical steam coming out of her ears clouded her vision. How dare the fates do this now? How dare they join her to someone when she was once again trying to rebuild her life? And to
that man
—the one Finn told her had been stalking his pack for close to two years. The nosy bastard…with the most gorgeous dark eyes she’d ever looked into.

No. She would
not
surrender to the magic of the fates. She wouldn’t allow herself to fall into some mating haze or give in to the imperative to join with her chosen partner. She had work to do, shifters to help, and she was not about to let some egotistical asshole get in her way.

“Arrogant git.” She growled and changed direction, needing to create distance between her and anyone else, wanting so badly to let her wolf out and run. But she couldn’t, hadn’t been able to simply let go in years. Not without Finn and his security detail by her side.

I don’t like criminals in my backyard.

“
Stupid,
arrogant git.” At least Finn’s crimes were basically victimless. Plus, he targeted humans, not shifters. That distinction counted for something in her opinion. As did all the money he funneled to her to support her plans. God, without Finn…so many shifters would be dead by now, innocent men, women, and children who did nothing wrong but cross paths with psychopaths.

She’d be dead as well.

The clack of her heels on the stone floors was too much of a reminder of what had just happened in New York, of the fear and the running. Again. For years, Charmeine had lived on a never-ending loop of barely making it out alive whenever the Apex Hunters decided it was time to come after her again. And she was tired of it all.

“Charmeine.”

Finn’s voice behind her did nothing to slow her down. She knew he wanted to check on her, and she knew she’d need to talk about what happened eventually. But she wasn’t ready. Not even close. So she kept stalking through the halls of his home, avoiding the other shifters there and doing her best to keep from exploding. But Finn followed her, of course.

Thank the fates she was with Finn when this silly mating happened, and that it was him tracking her down. He knew her, understood her in a way no one else did. He would let her come to grips in her own way and on her own timeline, even if he did refuse to let her be alone. His footsteps echoed just as much as hers in the empty halls, but he didn’t move closer. A testament to the man’s patience, really. He could have easily overtaken her—could have raced after her, caught her, and forced her to stop and face whatever he felt the need to say. Instead, he followed at a bit of a distance. Giving her the space to breathe. The opportunity to calm herself.

Not that it was working.

“How dare this happen now?” Charmeine asked as she reached a dead end in a dark and shadowed hallway. “I’m still not even able to walk outside alone, and we have all of these families converging on this town. A mating right now is the worst possible thing that could have happened.”

“Not the worst.” Finn leaned against the wall, looking patient and steadfast as always. “We have no control over matings. Fate doesn’t ask our opinions.”

Charmeine was not in the mood for that logic. “Well, fate can fuck right off.”

Finn chuckled darkly. “Your father would be appalled at your language.”

“No.” She growled, rage making her heart race and her nails curve into claws as her wolf began to take control. “My father is dead, and not even you have the right to use his memory against me.”

Finn’s face fell, a look of pain streaking across his handsome features. “That wasn’t my intention. I’m simply trying to contain—”

Charmeine’s growl grew to a snarl. Finn stopped speaking, frozen in midsentence. Knowing he’d just screwed up. That word, that statement, was the absolute wrong thing to say.

“I will not be contained or controlled.” Charmeine growled again and fought back her shift. Her joints ached as her inner wolf waged war against her human body, but she resisted. Suffered and wanted to cry, but resisted. “I am not some prize to be won, and I will not allow myself to be claimed by some…some…”

But the words wouldn’t come. She wanted to call him a cretin, a Neanderthal, something disgusting and insulting. But her soul wouldn’t allow it. He wasn’t disgusting. He was handsome in the most base and rough way. Tall and muscled, thicker than most shifters she knew, with dark brown hair and a wickedly naughty smirk that made every inch of her take notice. But what had stunned her, what had nearly stolen her breath, was the depth in his eyes. The honesty she could almost feel there. He had snagged her attention with that one look, made her practically shake with a need that pulsed and burned…and didn’t that just piss her off even more?

Charmeine huffed and took off again, heading for the suite of rooms Finn had offered her when she’d arrived. He followed, of course, because he always followed. He never let her hide from the situations around her. A most irritating trait, but one that had kept her alive. So far.

She stormed into her room but continued to pace, growling and snarling as her thoughts went from what her new mate was—handsome, daring, intriguing—to what he had to be—enemy, dangerous, deadly. Finn leaned against the doorway, watching her. Waiting her out. They’d been too close as children, too tied up in the hell their lives had become to make many friends. They were as close as siblings and just as stubborn. She knew he’d wait for days if necessary; he was patient like that. And he knew she needed time to rein in her anger. To get the fire burning in her soul under control.

But all fires eventually burned out, including ones set by the fates. Charmeine crumpled onto the edge of the bed and stared at the ground. Unable to find a path to take in her head.

“What do I do?” Her voice was too soft, too broken and weak. That wasn’t what she wanted to sound like. She’d battled madmen, saved shifters from certain death, and run a secret rescue organization for victims of the Apex Hunters for years. She was
not
weak.

And yet, this situation sapped her inner strength. Meeting her fated partner hadn’t been something she could have prepared for. Nothing she’d expected. She’d found her mate…in an enemy.

Finn pushed off the wall, walking toward her casually. Slowly. That O’Rourke charm in full effect. “Maybe it’s not as bad as it seems.”

“Your enemy is my enemy, and you told me that man has been watching you for years. That’s an enemy, Finn. We both know it.” Charmeine’s returning glare should have made him take a step back, not grin at her as if she were a stubborn child. She growled and twisted to the side, lying on the bed in an almost fetal position. Finally settling into something close to a non-raging state. “Why now? Why him? How dare the fates screw this up so badly?”

“I have no enemies, save one.” Finn knelt before her, reaching for her hand. “He is not a danger to us. Maybe you could give this mating a chance.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me already?”

“Never. But what kind of life will you have with me? Gaming humans to support our adopted family? Constantly looking over our shoulders for Apex Hunters?” He sighed, staring at her hand as he ran his fingers over the back of it. “This man—he’s not like them. He could have acted on numerous occasions, but he didn’t. He watched, but he didn’t attack. I can’t blame him for being concerned about my pack considering how I moved in here, really.”

“Finn—”

“He was here first. I didn’t seek him out, nor did I inform him that I was bringing a pack with me. That’s my fault. He’s watched my group and me ever since, has avoided me whenever I’ve attempted to engage him in conversation, but he’s never acted against us. He’s never made a move to hurt this family, not even by slipping into our home uninvited. I don’t think he’s as dangerous as he is…pissed and insulted.” Finn sighed and brought her hand to his lips for a simple, single kiss. “As much as you think he’s against us, and as much as you don’t trust him, you can’t deny the fates have offered you a gift, Charmeine.”

Charmeine pulled her hand away, a spark of temper growing once more inside of her. “They’ve offered me a life sentence of servitude.”

Finn chuckled and kissed her forehead before hopping to his feet. “My mother was not in servitude to my father, and nor was yours. Our parents loved one another deeply. Perhaps that sort of future is what the fates are offering you today.” He paused at the door, looking back at her with eyes so dark and pained, they made her catch her breath. “We deserve a break, Charmeine. We have scrambled for simple survival for too long. Fated mates are so very rare, it seems. We haven’t had a proper mating in the family for coming on twenty years now. I had begun to think I’d destroyed the O’Rourkes with all of this questionable activity, but apparently, the veil of bad luck has lifted. At least for you.”

“I don’t believe in luck,” she whispered, her heart practically in her throat.

But Finn always could see through her lies. “Think about it then. See if there isn’t some small part of you willing to at least give the man the fates chose to be yours a chance.”

Charmeine waited for him to close the door before she rolled over to bury her face in the mattress…and scream. A chance? No. Chances meant risk. She couldn’t hinge her life on the possibility of something as fickle as luck or chance or…something else not of her own making. She couldn’t leave the families who relied on her to go chasing dreams she’d never really cared about anyway.

Okay, that was a lie. She remembered how happy her parents had been. How much they adored one another. Their mating had been a gift and a blessing, and they’d lived each day basking in the love they shared. She wanted that. Wanted to know what that sort of connection to another person felt like.

But not like this.

Not this guy.

No matter what Finn said, Mammon was a threat. And she refused to accept a mating to a man who could finally destroy her world.