Scent of Valor (Chronicles of Eorthe #2) (12 page)

“Use your tongue, Kele. Caress me with it.” He pushed the hair away from her face and watched her closely. “Oh, fuck.” His hips moved a little, matching her rhythm.

Molding her tongue to his cock, she licked and sucked until she saw Peder’s look.

“Oh Goddess, Kele.” He closed his eyes as if he couldn’t bear watching her take him in her mouth anymore. “I want more than this.”

She hesitated. She didn’t know how to give more.

He pulled out of her mouth and lifted her so fast a wave of dizziness spun her head. With a few quick tugs, he guided her dress over her head and yanked her into his strong arms, slamming his mouth to hers. This wasn’t like last night’s kiss, full of exploration and passion. Tonight, Peder took her like he was a male dying for breath and she was his only air. Hungry and savage, he claimed her. Nails biting into her skin, hard cock pushed against her stomach, and the throb of desire pulsing in between her legs.

Lying on the bed, he turned her around and laid her on top until she straddled his face. Where were they going with this? She tried to catch her breath when his tongue probed between her labia going directly for her aching entrance.

To her dismay, she mewled and arched into his unexpected touch. She fell to her hands, her forehead resting on his stomach as he kissed her between the thighs just like he had her mouth. “Peder.” She stretched the cry of his name, not caring what the guards outside heard.

His cock rubbed the side of her face as he thrust his hips in the air.

She guided it back to her mouth, needing to be connected to him in the same way he was to her. Needed him to be as wanton. A bead of moisture dripped from the tip of his cock and she moaned at the eorthy taste.

Peder moved his mouth over her aching bud, massaging it with his hard tongue, and slid his fingers inside her.

Like a knot loosening, she came undone. She climaxed so hard she howled, and so did he as he came as well. Exhausted, she flopped on top of him.

He guided her limp limbs until he held her against him. Burying his face in her hair, he made a satisfied noise. “I never want this night to end.” Like a protective cocoon, he wrapped his arms and legs around her. “Thank you for taking care of me.” He sounded wistful. “I’m usually the one doing that job.”

“Not with me. I will always do my best to care for you.”

“A hunter taking care of an omega? Sounds like a mating.”

She cupped his face in her hands. “There is nothing omega about you, Peder.”

“You think I’m hunter trained now?” He gave her a teasing smile.

“No, I think you’re something more.”

“That’s the sex talking. Maybe after a few more rounds, I can get you to call me a god.”

She laughed and clapped her hand over her mouth. “Stop that. I’m being serious.”

“I know you are and you’re sweet to think that.” He kissed her forehead and curled around her once more. After a quiet spell, he whispered in a sleepy voice, “Will you keep my mark?”

“For as long as I can,” she mumbled back.

“Good.”

The next morning, they were roused by the clang of the cell door swinging open and hitting the wall.

“Rise and shine, Goldie.”

Peder rolled on top of her and covered her nudity from Timothy’s prying eyes.

“There’s more to you than your good looks. Time to train.” He clapped his hands loudly. “I gave you your night. Now it’s time to work for your keep.”

“And hers.” Peder glared at the slaver.

“No, you’re not that good, wolf. She’ll have to earn her own keep from now on.”

Chapter Twenty-One

What purpose could Timothy have for requesting her presence? None that Pemma could think of, yet Ewald had still dragged her on this errand when all she wanted was some much-needed sleep. Timothy raised the hairs on the back of her neck. The slaver held dark secrets and darker desires. Things she didn’t want to discover.

This city contained things worse than bad smells. Besides the shipping of goods to Europa, the core of their businesses relied on the selling of other people like cattle. Restaurants, hotels, and drinking establishments catered to the slavers, sailors, and immigrants. Without the slaving, their income would be considerably less, because a part of vampire economy was based on the suffering of her people. She always thought of her pack as free, but now she wondered if that was a guise. If they had tried to set out on their own, would Ewald’s father have sent soldiers to hunt them down? She was beginning to believe it possible.

And last night’s fights…shifter challenges rarely were to the death. She’d never seen a person die. Brutal nightmares plagued her all night until she’d taken refuge in Ewald’s arms.

“You’re unusually quiet.” Ewald leaned forward in their carriage and traced her frown with his fingertip. “Are you still thinking about last night?”

She tried to smile but utterly failed.

“If I’d known it would have been so—so—”

“Brutally savage?”

“Yes! I wouldn’t have brought you.” He rested his hand on her knee, but for the first time, she took no comfort from him.

“We’ve come to an uncivilized place. Makes me wonder how much worse it will be when we travel west.”

“Pemma.” He pulled her onto his lap and sighed. “We both knew this journey would be hard.”

“I know, but I’d only thought of the physical hardships. Not the weariness that lies on my heart already and we haven’t even left the city.” What choice did she have? Her pack would leave with Ewald. Where would she go? How would she earn passage to return home to her mother? She sniffed. It was too late for all that. Regrets would only drag her further down. “I don’t like being around the slavers and I don’t like the way Timothy looks at me. It makes me want to wash in Gram’s scalding laundry water.”

“I know and I hate to admit it, but that’s why I want you along. I need you to distract Timothy while I speak with the vampires in his employ. That cat shifter doesn’t inspire my trust and the less he knows of our business the better.”

She lifted her face to glare at Ewald. “Exactly how do you expect me to distract him?”

“Well, I was thinking you could shop for a slave.”

“What?” She was sure the passersby on the street could hear her shrieked question. Of all the things he could have asked her to do. She would have rather been invited to blow the damn cat shifter.

“We won’t actually buy one. You’ll just tell him that none of them suit your needs.”

She crossed her arms and stuck out her chin. “Oh, I can manage that.”

The carriage came to a halt and the footman opened the door and assisted her to the ground. They’d left Maxim at the manor since he had his own errands to run for Ewald. The cat shifter had seemed even more irritated with her once he’d heard Ewald’s plan to bring Pemma.

The scent of salt water and fish almost overcame the stench of city waste and too many people living together in close quarters. Made of stone, the slaver’s compound loomed above her. It looked more like a prison. Could she really face these slaves and flaunt her freedom?

“Ewald?” She backed against him. “Can I stay in the carriage instead?”

He set his hands on her arms. “Do this for the pack. We need the information and I’d rather speak with these trappers in private. I don’t want to be announcing to just anyone where we’re going.”

“Yes, master.” Her voice sounded small even to her.

“Don’t start with the master shit. You know how I hate that.”

She gave him a small smile. “Sorry.”

The sound of a wolf shifter growling greeted them as they entered the compound. Some of the slaves within the holding area watched their arrival with interest. One of the vampire guards approached and Ewald informed him of their appointment with Timothy.

The dark cat shifter arrived not long after someone was dispatched to retrieve him. “Forgive me, my lord. I was in the middle of a training session and didn’t hear your arrival.” He took Pemma’s hand without permission and kissed her knuckles. “Lady Pemma, ravishing as always.”

“I’m not a lady.” She pulled her hand away from his.

His smile turned wicked. “I bet you’re not.”

She stepped closer, her eyes narrowing, and opened her mouth—before Ewald clamped a hand on her upper arm to stop her from expressing exactly what she thought of Timothy. She could almost sense her mother’s disapproval from across the ocean. An omega never spoke her mind. She stayed quiet and kept her ears open. With a couple tugs, she settled her dress from after the short ride and let her gaze drop. She wouldn’t grovel for forgiveness. Neither of these males deserved her loyalty.

“Timothy.” Ewald offered his hand as though they were equals. “I’m glad you’ve arranged this meeting.” They discussed who these vampire slavers were and their credentials.

There was a large prison cell across from her where shifters had drifted to the front and watched Ewald. One of them had the palest blonde hair she’d ever seen. When she was in feral form, was her pelt white?

“I was also wondering—while I’m chatting with these fine fellows—if you could show Pemma some of your stock. I think it’s time for her to have her own servant.” Ewald’s proud smile turned her stomach.

It was a ruse. He acted very well and she should do her part. “Yes, it would be nice to have someone to share my chores.” Like she had many. Most of the time, she needed to beg work from her pack to keep her hands busy and let her feel like part of them. They wanted her available to Ewald and she understood, but it was boring sitting in a corner pretending to stare vacantly. At least when she had socks or kilts to darn, it made her feel useful instead of used.

Timothy’s gaze traveled from Ewald and slowly up her body. “Pleasure’s all mine.” He gestured toward a small building off to the right. “The vampire I have in residence is Huan. He recently brought in a fine haul. You saw one of them last night kill both his opponents, the feral Goldie.”

Goose bumps formed on her skin. Why should it shock her that Timothy owned the shifter who’d given her nightmares? She turned her back on them and wandered toward the cage. Something to her left caught her eye. A single wooden post stood across from the cage. A whipping post. Ewald’s father had such a thing in his yard. They punished criminals there on occasion.

Long ago, when she was a pup, her father had been beaten to death on the post while drunk from their master’s ale. His blood had soaked the wood. Upon examining it the next day, she had found the surface clean of any trace of her father. Being drunk wasn’t a capital offense or half her pack would have been buried in graves. No one spoke of her father or why he’d been killed. She secretly suspected this was why Gram gave Gramp so much trouble when he drank too much. Her only memories were of the way he smelled and the sound of her mother’s tortured tears the weeks following his death. Her mother had never been the same after.

She drew closer and startled when she spotted two sweaty shifter males in civil form sitting on the ground. Their threadbare kilts hung low on their hips and they wore no shirts. “Hello.” If she was the judge, she’d say they were in fine shape. Most likely hunters. “I’m Pemma.” The bold and brash.

The darker one grinned and rose to his feet. “I’m Nahuel. This is Peder.”

His friend raised his golden head and she couldn’t help but stare. Bards sang of beautiful females all the time but she dared guess there would to be a song for Peder in the future. He nodded.

It wasn’t too often she was struck silent. She noticed a long stitched cut on his side that oozed blood. “You’re injured.”
Silly Pemma,
he knew that. “Do you want me to get help?” The words kept tumbling from her mouth like a dam had broken and all the stupid needed to pour out for both males to see.

“I’m fine, Pemma. Timothy is more than aware of my injuries.”
Plural.

Her gaze wandered over the long, thin bruises lining his limbs and torso then settled on the metal collar around his neck.

Nahuel wore one as well. Sighing, he returned to his spot next to Peder. “I don’t know why I bother trying to impress any females with you around.”

Peder’s gaze had dropped back on the ground where he played with a stick. He snorted. He inserted the sliver of wood into the lock at his neck and fiddled around inside it. The thin wood snapped. “Fuck. My alpha can do this with a claw.”

Her eyes went wide and she glanced around, but the guards’ attention was held by Timothy and Ewald who huddled in conversation on the other side of the compound.

“You can’t pick a lock with wood. The vampire metal is too strong for that. You need something made of the same material.” She patted her hair that had been coiffed by Lord Weis’s maids this morning and pulled out a hairpin. “Like this.” She held it up.

The seed of hope bloomed in Peder’s tired gaze as he reached toward her. Damn the vampires in the New World for chaining them like animals. Why would they treat shifters so badly on this side of the ocean? Her gaze darted to Timothy, the
cat
shifter. He wasn’t wearing shackles. Actually, she hadn’t seen
any
cat shifter slaves yet.

She set the hairpin in Peder’s outstretched hand. Hunters were the protectors and providers of the pack. In turn, vampire masters, at least the ones she’d known in Europa, had treated them with respect unless they’d done something terrible like free slaves. Her pulse hammered in her ears. “I didn’t give it to you. Understand? If you get caught, it fell from my hair while I was speaking with you.”

Nahuel’s flirtatious grin faded as his gaze narrowed. “Why
are
you helping us?”

“If I could, I’d set you all free. But I’m powerless.” Except Ewald had voiced he’d buy her a slave. It was a ruse but it didn’t have to be. “I can buy one slave today. Which of you will it be?”

They turned to one another, then Peder pointed to the cage. “The female with the pale hair.” He cleared his throat. “Save her.” His voice had gone rough with emotion. “She’s my mate and I don’t like the way Timothy looks at her.”

Pemma didn’t like the way Timothy looked at her either. “Very well. I’ll do my best.” It was the selfless act of a hunter, what Peder did. Maybe one day she’d have someone love her as much.

Peder crouched forward and set his hand on her foot in respect. “Thank you, cousin.”

“I wish I could do more, brother.”

“Keep your hands to yourself, Goldie. Her master wouldn’t like it if he saw another male flirting with his prize.” Timothy spoke from behind her, and his deep voice almost launched her into Nahuel’s lap. “What do you think of our Goldie in civil form?” Timothy leaned against the post and trailed a possessive eye over Peder. “She was in the audience last night.”

She took an involuntary step back. “I wouldn’t have guessed they were the same shifter.” That such a feral creature could live inside such a beautiful and gently spoken male. “Maybe we should finish our business before Ewald is done with his.”

“Yes, follow me. I would hate for you to leave empty-handed.”

She allowed Timothy to guide her to the cage but she kept tossing glances over her shoulder. Maybe the wild shifters were more feral than those from Europa? Maybe they called them wild because their feral sides had a stronger influence over their civil minds. Goodness, it must have been almost a year now since she’d shifted to feral form. Maybe their challenges were always to the death rather than being tossed out of the ring. Who was she to judge Peder’s violent nature?

Peder hadn’t tried to hurt her. He touched her foot like an omega would a hunter. She’d never had that happen to her. Maybe he’d done it as a slave to a free shifter.

But was she really free?

Oh, her head hurt and her heart ached. She turned her attention to the cage instead where she had a small chance to exact some good.

Gramp hated it when she brought strays home. She would have to hide this slave for a little time before introducing her to the pack. They might think the slave belonged to Lord Weis instead.

The pale female stood by the bars. She only had eyes for Peder though.

Pemma pointed to her. “She’s very pretty.”

“She’s not for sale.”

Pemma gave Timothy her best smile and set her hand on his. “Everything has a price.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You wouldn’t want to pay my price, my lady.”

She could guess what he wanted and she really didn’t care to pay in those ways.

“Why would you want to bring competition into your home? Lord Ewald will most likely want this one warming his bed.” Timothy ran the back of his hand along Pemma’s cheek.

She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “Ewald is not attracted to strong females. This one is obviously a hunter. I could use protection in this city and when we travel west.”

“Your master is poor. He hasn’t enough coin to buy this one. Pick another.”

The female stared.

As an omega, Pemma dropped her gaze and bowed her head. Timothy would break this fine, wild hunter. Peder claimed this slave as his mate. What would it do to him when Timothy took her from him? Pemma clenched her fists. She’d trade places with the female hunter if she could. It was her in her nature to care for them. She couldn’t fight instinct any more than she could stop breathing.

She relaxed her hands. “Do I have something you want?” The question came out so soft she could barely hear it.

Timothy gripped her upper arm. “You do what I want. No questions asked. As hard as I want it.”

Her stomach knotted. She was an omega female from a large pack. As one of the easy lovers, she’d had more than her share of males, even a few females. But none of them had ever forced her or terrified her. “Done.” She could let Timothy have his way, then she could spend her evening scrubbing his scent off her flesh.