Under the Alpha's Protection (7 page)

"
Shit
, this is even worse than I first thought. We can't let him win, son."

Raoul shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose to not let rip at his father.

"Don’t you think I know that, but, shit, Dad, I can't just sit here until the council decides what to do. If they had acted in the first place, we wouldn't be in this fucking mess. He's got Nikita, Dad."

There was an ominous pause at the end of the line.

"I thought you said he's got your girl. I assumed you meant your latest sub. Nikita is human, and she is your friend. What the hell haven't you told me, son? Have you bonded with her? Is she wolf now?"

Raoul laughed, a short almost hysterical laugh for sure.

"No, Dad, she doesn't even know I'm a wolf. It seemed safer to keep her out of it. I didn't want her to be a pawn in the power struggles that I thought this was."

A deep felt sigh came through the phone line.

"And your wolf, what has he got to say about this?"

"She's our mate,
Dad. I know I fucked up."

"Big time, son, big time. Let's hope we can get her back before it's too late." Raoul grabbed the phone receiver so hard it creaked. "You know the council will sacrifice her in a heartbeat if it means defeating Draco, and if he's turned her, you've lost her, son."

Chapter Seven

A crushing weight sat on her chest, pinning her in place
, and she couldn't breathe.
God, why can't I breathe? What's happening to me?

Pain rolled through her, sharp and thick. It flowed through her veins like molten lava, yet she was so cold she shivered. Tears seeped from her closed eyelids, and her heart missed its beat. Was she dying? Was this it? Her life snatched away just as she found Raoul. The pain centered in her heart, and she wanted to scream and
rail at the injustice of it all. For Raoul was not the man she knew. If Darius was a wolf, then it stood to reason that Raoul was, too. She was here, wherever here was because of that.

More tears fell. They stung her cold skin like acid, and anger coiled itself in her belly like a poisonous snake, ready to bite. It lay in wait until it struck with a burst of speed and light, and Nikita sat up in the bed she lay on, and drew a huge gasp of air into her lungs.

"Welcome back, princess."

The voice sent a cold clamp of dread around her body. Like a vise it squeezed until she struggled to breathe again.

"Oh, no you don't. I didn't go through all this trouble for you to shuffle off this mortal coil now." The man gave an evil chuckle that caused goose-bumps to break out all over her skin. "Though strictly speaking you've already done that." Cold fingers dug into her skin and forced her to look up at him.

It was the man in her nightmares, the same one who'd attacked her a month ago, the same one who'd come upon her in that
god-awful basement. She jerked away from him, and he smiled, showing a set of lethal looking fangs. Her gaze zeroed in on them, and his smile deepened.

"You'll grow your own soon enough, princess, as soon as this transition phase is over."

"What did you do to me?" she whispered, afraid to hear the answer.

"Such worry, princess. I'd expect a little gratitude at least. You'd have bled out like a pig in my dungeon, had I not intervened."

He hooked his clawed finger under her chin, giving her no choice but to look at him. Bile rose in her throat when he wrapped a hand in her hair and pulled her close enough to inhale against her neck.

"The stench of that blasted wolf still clings to you, but we'll soon get rid of him. This is not what I had planned, but it will work so much better."

He ran his fangs along her neck and then bit down. Nikita tensed, but instead of pain there was only pleasure, blinding pleasure that took her breath away. Like an avalanche it overtook her being and centered in her clit, threatening to pitch her into an overpowering, mind-blowing release. Her fingers curled in the other man's fine silk shirt, crushing the delicate fabric, and he groaned into her neck.

With every draw of her blood from those fangs buried in her skin her head felt lighter as though he was taking away her memories away with it. It would be so easy to just allow herself to fall into the abyss, to take what he offered. Already her body felt stronger, her vision cleared to such a degree that even without her glasses she could make out the intricate detail of the rose petals on the embossed wallpaper on the opposite wall.

Raoul had lied to her. He hadn't told her who he really was. It was his fault that she was in this mess, that she had this intoxicating stranger pawing her as though she was a piece of meat.

She bit back a groan when Draco's hand slid to her breast and his claws dug into her skin. He released his hold on her neck and licked the pinpricks of pain left behind.

"Hmm, I think I'm beginning to understand what Raoul saw in you. All that extra weight does give you beautiful tits just right for the plucking."

In a blur of air he pushed her flat on her back, and he latched onto her breast. His fangs sank in, and Nikita's world tilted. Closer and closer the stimulation pushed her to blissful release. Her breath came in short agonized pants, and her womb clenched with the first tremors of an orgasm she didn’t want.

She pushed against the vampire's shoulders, desperate to get him off her, to stop this insanity, but he simply laughed. The fist came from nowhere, and black closed in on her again, just as he yanked her thighs open.

"No, no…" In her head she was shouting the words, but she didn’t seem able to project the words with any authority. The slam of the door saved her.

"Draco."

"What the fuck? Can't you see I'm busy here?"

"They're here, Draco."

****

She was close, and it drove his wolf insane. The scent of her fear, her pain, her confusion drove him on. When a half dead Darius had arrived back on pack territory, all hell had broken loose. Raoul knew it was a trap, but he could no more not pursue the trail Darius had left behind than he could stop breathing. Nikita needed him. Darius's halting admission at what he'd witnessed meant there was no time to lose. If he got to her in time, his bite would drive out the vamp's poison. If he didn't and Draco managed to complete the turn, then she'd be lost to him forever. Driven by blood lust, she would only look on him as food, and his pack would be honor-bound to destroy her.

This was war, right here, right now. He hadn't been entirely surprised when his pack rose as one to go into battle with him. What had surprised him were the other packs joining him. Their numbers grew the closer they came to the country mansion Draco seemed to have set up home in.

The limited resistance they encountered on entering his grounds reeked of the trap it was, but Raoul was past caring. His wolf had scented his mate, and there would be no stopping him now. He'd save her or die trying.

With the silent efficiency that wolves were known for everyone fanned out to skirt the perimeter. The Alphas of their respective packs nodded to him, and teeth bared
, Raoul charged.

****

The battle being fought outside the ball room sounded intense, yet Draco just sat and peeled an orange as though this was an everyday occurrence for him.

He threw her the peeled fruit
, and she caught the thing without even thinking about it. For two whole days the battle had raged. Wave after wave of wolves descended upon the mansion, whilst Draco held court with an irritating air of nonchalance that turned Nikita's fragile stomach. Nothing tasted right anymore, and Draco simply grinned at her and waved the glasses of blood he was drinking under her nose.

A part of her, that was growing by the day, a part that scared her silly, wanted nothing more than to drink that blood, but Nikita wasn't stupid. She'd received a crash course in Paranormal 101, since her kidnap
ping, and once she'd recovered from the shock of knowing that every childhood monster under her bed did indeed exist, she'd made good use of the extensive library of Draco's base of operation.

She knew her only hope of holding onto what was left of her humanity was to refuse to drink the blood. To do so would complete her transformation to full vamp, and she'd rather die a slow, painful death than turn into a monster like Draco.

Fortunately, he hadn't tried to force himself on her again, since they'd been interrupted by the arrival of the wolves.

The thought that Raoul might be out there right now, fighting for his life made her heart ache with unshed tears, and it took every ounce of willpower she possessed to not try
to stake Draco where he sat.

Not that it would do any good at all.

They had been surrounded by intruding wolves when they'd been interrupted, and Nikita had watched in abject misery and horror as one by one they had been gutted by Draco's claws, their own valiant attempts at breaking his skin proving to be completely useless.

Nikita knew why. She had stood behind the plate glass window, when it shattered all over her. Several of Draco's wolf bodyguards had been gored by the razor sharp slivers of glass, but they had simply bounced off her skin without leaving a mark.
It seemed with the vamp blood came the ability to withstand injury to such a degree that normal measures would not work.

"That's my girl." Draco's voice had shown almost paternal pride when he'd noticed, and he'd laughed out loud when he'd made a grab for her and she'd dodged him easily.

Since then her reactions had become even faster, and it scared her senseless.

Draco laughed again as something hard and heavy hit the double oak doors from the outside with enough force to rattle the frame.

"Why are you doing this? What can you possibly hope to gain from this? You're outnumbered. They will win."

Draco simply smiled and cocked his head to one side.

"Ah, it's simple really. I've come to claim what's rightfully mine. What your lover boy and his family stole from me."

The doors burst open
, and three huge and beautiful wolves burst into the ball room. Nikita forgot to breathe completely when the largest of them locked eyes with her. Her entire body tensed, and she fought the urge to run to him and bury her hands in his fur. Raoul was breathtaking in his wolf form, and when he shifted in a blur of movement, the wolves with him shifted, too. She recognized Raoul's father straight away. An older, greyer version of his son, he was familiar and safe, even as the cold hard look he threw in her direction made her want to heave. Raoul's blue eyes, too, lacked their usual warmth, and she hastily put her hand over the telltale pinpricks in her neck that refused to heal.

Draco's chilling drawl brought her attention back to him
, and she fought his pull on her. Like a narrowing corridor her attention focused on him, and she took several steps in his direction before she even realized what she was doing.

"Squirt, don't. You can fight this, I know you can."

Raoul's anguished tones shook her out of the hypnotic hold Draco had on her, and she wrapped her arms around her middle, and stopped dead.

Draco frowned and beckoned her over, but she fought his pull with every ounce of her being.

"Give it up, Draco. You've lost this war." Raoul's father's deep voice held a hint of wonder, but he still watched her warily, and Nikita didn't miss the way his clawed hand curled around Raoul's biceps to stop him from moving.

"That's what you think, brother dear
," Draco snarled.

Nikita gasped and Raoul bared his fangs and growled low in his throat.

"Your little bitch here asked me earlier what I was to gain by this coup. Your entrance interrupted us before I could explain it to her. By the way, she tastes divine, like chocolate and strawberries, quite addictive."

Raoul shifted in a blur of furious growling and charged, before his father could stop him. Draco moved at lightning speed
, and the huge black wolf overshot his mark and skidded into the wall instead. A crack appeared, and his yelp of pain had Nikita shoot across to him in a flying leap she would never have thought herself capable of.

Raoul recoiled from her touch, before he seemed to think better of it, and he tentatively licked her outstretched hand.

"Ah, young love, warms the cockles of my soul, it does. Too bad the bitch is marked and you can't kill her. By my reckoning it'll be moments before the transformation is complete, and then she's all mine."

"Not if we kill you first."

Raoul's father's voice sounded strained, and he looked every minute of his advanced years. Raoul whined his distress, and Lupe bowed his head.

"Your beef is with me, Draco. Why take this out on my son
?"

"Because he is your son, the son that should have been mine. You turned Felicia away from me, with your tales of monsters. I couldn't help being bitten by a vamp
, to turn into this monster, the hybrid we're told to fear from knee high. Do you think I fucking wanted this? You were my older brother, the one who should have stopped me from walking into that trap, and instead you abandoned me to that nest of vipers, and saved your own skin."

Moisture glistened in Lupe's eyes and Nikita's eyes, too, filled with tears. Raoul's fur trembled in outrage, and she burrowed closer into his comforting warmth. She was getting so dreadfully cold her teeth were beginning to chatter. Fur changed to skin and hard muscle under her hands, and Raoul scooped her up in his arms and cradled her in his arms. Nikita closed her eyes and listened to the reassuring
thu-thud, thu-thud, thu-thud
of his beating heart.

"Stay with me, baby, please. I love you. You can fight this. I know you can." Nikita latched onto that deep voice calling to her soul. He loved her. Raoul loved her
, and she would die without ever having said it back to him.

"I had no choice, Draco, you know that. I had to act in the best interest of the pack." Lupe's voice sounded from far away
, and Draco's inhuman snarl in response raised the beast in her. Her canines lengthened, and Raoul's heartbeat changed from comforting to the sound of prey. She threw her head back and roared, and jumped out of Raoul's arms, claws bared.

He took a step away from her and shook his head.

"That's it, Princess, let it come. How fitting that her first meal should be your son, don't you think? Too bad she won't have the control to just turn him. Wouldn't that be a fitting judgment? Would you throw your son into exile as easily as you sold out your brother, I wonder. Would you rob him of his pack like you robbed mine of me and took my mate in the process?"