Theirs to Claim (2 page)

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Authors: LaTeisha Newton

BOOK: Theirs to Claim
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He padded over to her, his claws clicking on the street and echoing into the night. He could have shifted, it would be much easier to transfer her that way, but the wound on her neck would be better served by his saliva in his soul form. The healing agents most people joked about their dogs having in their saliva, he possessed in astronomical proportions. It would force the blood to clot, for the body to heal itself from the inside out. As he understood, in humans, the effect would make their bodies go into a near-coma-like state until they recuperated from being forced to do in minutes what they were meant to do in months, or not at all. He was positive she wouldn’t mind the extra sleep just to have healed much faster than she ever could have on her own. Lying on his stomach near her, he shimmed in until his muzzle fit in the crook of her throat and swiped his tongue over the gaping wound in her neck.

Everything in him froze. He’d come to her aid, scenting her from miles away, running full out until his heart felt close to bursting. Something had propelled him to search the scent out, and he could sense the danger surrounding it. Fear smelled cold, jagged, like chills running up his back in scent signatures. With the taste of her blood, now the reason was unmistakable: he had found his mate, the keeper of his soul, the protector of his heart . . . and he had almost lost her.

Working furiously now, his heart nearly breaking, whines leaking from his muzzle, he licked faster, healing the wound in a minute. He flashed from the massive black wolf to the man, the only thing remaining of what had been before the blue of his eyes.

Lifting her into his arms, he ignored the cool wind on his sweating six-foot-two frame. He was built with an internal temperature of one hundred four degrees. A little coolness was not going to bother him in the least. What he carried in his arms was more important.
The
most important thing in his life. He’d just have to convince his mate, his very
human
mate, of that fact—along with another few added complications, but they would get to that soon enough.

He lifted her higher on his shoulder, resting her face in the crook of his neck. The reassuring puffs of her breath told him he’d made it in time. The vampyre, now nothing more than ash after he’d ripped his heart from his chest, had not been able to take this light away from the earth. Had he succeeded, the Alpha of the South Texas clan would have never been the same. Tarquin knew his people, and his brother, for that matter, could not maintain without his governance.

Chapter Five

 

This brought him to his next set of problems while he streaked away from the scene, leaving nothing behind of his mate, the vampyre, or himself. His brother would be waiting for him, not having asked what was pressing enough for him to suddenly leave a rather important meeting over the next delegation of the Howling. It was the gathering where an Alpha was to find or present his mate, three of which had been a complete failure for him up until this point. Looking down at the priceless treasure in his arms, he was not angered by the record. His brother, as he was Beta, would take over for him in the case of his absence from the clan. Being the eldest at times had its advantages. Also, because he was elder, he would be the one to determine the mate for them. Tarquin knew enough that this would not be a situation the human would understand. They would have to find a way around it. Fate had taken it out of all of their hands.

As he moved, he scented his brother before he saw him. The younger by only two years, nearly unheard of in the shifter world, Rion was a force to be reckoned with. More volatile and brash then his elder, the place of Beta and protector of the throne was one he was well suited to. Love, and the fact that Tarquin was the only soul who could soundly kick his ass, kept him in line. A recently attacked mate may not be able to take him on. Though—he smiled to himself now that the fear was gone—she had sassed a vampyre who was well on his way to striking her. That took more guts than she probably realized.

“Brother?”
the golden wolf questioned in his mind.

Where Tarquin was dark and brooding, Rion was light and easygoing, by appearances anyway. Many had found it to be misleading in their dealings with them. He used to say to his mother that their likenesses had gotten mixed up by the Goddess Mother somehow as a joke. In their case, it was much better to go for the “brooding” one than the “lighthearted” one. Rion had an Ivan the Terrible interior and a serene cherub appearance. It was unsettling. No one wanted his ass kicked by an angel. It just wasn’t fair.

“Hurt,”
Rion said, intruding into his thoughts.

“She was hurt. I healed her before I moved her.”

“Home?”

Tarquin could feel the impression of confusion and the tail end of censure from his brother’s mind. Rion would be able to tell the woman was human. As such, she would be completely off-limits inside the compound. Their existence was one they guarded well. Humans were not ready to know that the things that went bump in the night were very real.

“Rion, she has to come with us.”

“Sure?”
Rion’s animal soul looked over at him quickly, then to the woman, and then back again. He lifted his nose into the air.

Tarquin remained silent, knowing Rion would catch on soon enough. He would feel the pull in her blood, the scent that rose off her flesh, and would notice the possessive way Tarquin held her close to his body.

“Mate?”

“Yes, Rion. This is our mate.”

Rion’s soul form sang a great howl into the sky, acknowledging and trumpeting the coming of his mate in their lands. In wolf form, they were more primal. Communication was more in impressions and single-word sentences. The older the wolf was, the more powerful his communication. The fact that Rion had resorted to basic language meant he had let his soul form nearly take over his human side in order to reach his brother as quickly as possible. The support was not lost on him. He would have quickly closed and dismissed the meeting before throwing himself in his brother’s wake. He had probably been ready to chomp on him for leaving so suddenly without him to guard, but the events now would silence any words.

“Go to the Domus, Rion. Prepare our room. She will heal in the bed made for her coming.”

Rion spirited off, his wolf a blur in the darkness. He would beat Tarquin by perhaps only a few minutes, but it would be enough. He could feel the happiness, the eagerness through their bond. He had worried his brother would need a balance to curtail his brash side. He needed a softness that Tarquin was not able to provide. He hoped the feisty woman in his arms would do exactly that.

Still, as he had seen by tonight’s events, and their own looks, the Goddess Mother did exactly what she deemed fit. And just because he
felt
as though this was what they needed, it didn’t mean she would provide it. She’d give what she knew was necessary. It was, he was sure, the reason why they had the woman he was now holding instead of some submissive. He was just too happy to care that she wasn’t what he had envisioned.

Chapter Six

 

In minutes, the Domus, one circular compound where all the shifters of their tribe lived together, came into view. His section with his brother was to the center and back of the circle. He cut around the outside edge and made a beeline for their front door. He was not in the mind-set to be stopped by his family. They would ask too many questions, and could very well scare his mate if she awoke before he was ready for her to. Surrounded by soft candlelight, lying upon the bed that would be hers forever more, and in a quiet atmosphere would be the best way to receive her. It would be less fuss, less shock, less everything until they figured out how the hell to deal with it all.

It was hard enough to be close to her with her scent wrapping around his body like fingers. He could feel his cock standing out like a pike, and no amount of easy breathing alleviated him of the issue. As soon as he passed through the doors, it was as if her scent was amplified, reaching out to intertwine with his and his brother’s in their home. It was as if she had always been there, as if there had never been a time when she wasn’t at their side. It soothed him in a way that he never thought possible even as a fire streaked over his nerve endings, sending him bounding up the stairs with preternatural speed.

Rion had done as he instructed, closed the blinds, turned back the cool white sheets and black comforter to make a space for her in the center of the square bed made especially for Alpha mates. It was nearly twice the size of an ordinary king-size bed. The scent of candles smelling of soothing lavender and sandalwood permeated the air, and Rion had even placed a glass of water with a pitcher, and cold cuts on a plate, on the end table. Tarquin raised his brow at that.

“Domesticated already?”

“Shut it, Quin. You only meet your mate once. She’s had a hard enough time, it seems.”

It was then Quin saw the tightness around his brother’s mouth and the tension in his shoulders. Even his blond hair, falling right to his shoulder, was mussed and messy, as if he’d been running his fingers through it constantly. He was keyed up like a shifter unable to shift. He could see the pain in his brother’s eyes and knew the source.

“She survived, Rion. We got her safely home.”

“No, you got her home. Had she been waiting on me, she’d be gone.”

“Once we bond, you will recognize her as surely as I do, at whatever distance there may be. She’s safe, brother. She’s safe.”

“Qu—”

Their mate’s soft moan silenced them both. Looking at each other, making an instant decision, they laid their mate down in the middle of the bed, stripped her of her clothing, and washed away the blood and scent of the vampyre. A few minutes after that, they were in wolf form, curled around her sides, ever vigilant, ever there.

Chapter Seven

 

Her head was killing her. Her throat tasted like ash, and her electricity bill must not have been paid by her absentminded self because she was ridiculously warm. To add to that glorious combination, her body felt as though it had been in the ring with Manny Pacquiao. She tried to roll over, but felt her sides trapped by something. Furry somethings. Okay,
breathing
furry somethings, and she knew she had no dogs. Opening her eyes slowly, she looked down at a massive black wolf on one side and a blond one on the other. When she said massive, she meant at least twice the size of the largest German shepherd she’d ever seen in her life. So, Z did what any self-respecting person would do—she screamed at the top of her bloody lungs, jumped out of the bed, ran blindly for the door.

The blond wolf leapt
over
her.
Over her!
He landed squarely across the door, and then he just melted. She didn’t know how else to describe it. His fur melted away, falling to the ground in disappearing golden sprinkles, until a completely naked green-eyed giant stood in front of her. His hair fanned around his shoulders…nicely built shoulders. It was like looking at Brad Pitt’s Achilles walking off the damn screen. She knew her jaw was hanging to the floor, but she was too afraid, amazed, and near traumatized to react.

“Bad move.”

As the dulcet tones directed from behind brushed over her, she realized three things in quick succession. One: there had been two wolves, and she left the black one
behind
her when she was staring like a moron at the blond model in front of her. Two: said wolf was now gone, leaving Eric Bana in his place. Three: and this one just took the whole cake . . . She was
ass naked
in front of said men, in a room that was an inferno waiting to happen, in a place she did not know, and with no way to escape. She either had gone completely crazy and was now in the
Twilight Zone
, or was dreaming some stuff that meant she needed to see a therapist in the morning. Either way she was screwed. The lingering pain in her neck had her reaching up to cup the side. Her touch brought back memories of the evening, and suddenly, being naked in the middle of two of the most beautiful men she’d ever seen in her life was terrifying no matter if she was crazy or not. Her body twitched, ready to bolt. A growl stopped her.

“Rion.”

Zelina looked over to Blondie and figured he was Rion. His lip was pulled back to reveal four sharp teeth—four sharp teeth, like Brian. She felt her blood drain from her face. She went cold. She wasn’t crazy. She was going to die.

“Rion! You’re scaring her,” the dark one hissed, lips tight over what she figured were his set of dog teeth. “You’re safe here, mate. Never fear us. But now is not the time to run. There is so much you have to understand. Running will trigger instincts you aren’t ready for yet. Trust me in this.”

“So you guys can kill me? Screw that.” Zelina moved to grab something, anything, to use as a weapon and for the second time that night got the wind knocked out of her. A massive, hot form slammed her body into the wall, effectively pinning her. She couldn’t move with all her might.

She made another discovery, her mind nearly bubbling with hysterical laughter. She was really tired of discovering tonight. If she made it through this, she was canceling her Discovery Channel, she swore she was. The aforementioned hunk had her plastered against the wall, something long, hot, and thick tucked neatly into the crease of her ass. He leaned nearer to her neck, growling softly against her flesh. Discovery one thousand: he was hung like a horse!

Chapter Eight

 

He smelled wild, untamed, fresh meadow and forest mixed into one package. He was rock solid behind her, unmoving, but his hold on her wrists was gentle—shackling, but gentle. Something in her warmed. She felt her breasts grow heavy, her nipples harden and touch the wall, could feel her pussy plumping. Something was wrong with her. His control of her, the teeth, the growling, and the fact that he was clearly not human should not be enticing her. She shouldn’t feel the urge to push her butt into him, to feel him grow harder, to feel the wetness of pre-come on her back as he kissed her neck. Zelina should not have wanted any of those things, and yet she wanted them all.

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