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Nigel stood in the center of the group. Almost as if he sensed her watching, he looked up at that moment and, despite the distance, she felt as if his gaze locked with hers for several heartbeats.
Unnervingly, about a dozen or so other men also looked up toward her.
Cher wasn't exactly certain why it was, but the moment she realized she'd attracted the interest of at least a dozen of the men milling about on the lawn below, the hair on the nape of her neck stood on end.
It might have had something to do with the fact that, after staring at her for several frantic heart palpitations, they whirled upon Nigel and their body language was definitely both hostile and challenging.
Chapter Three.
"What's this?" Rocco demanded, his voice low and threatening.
"Looks to me like our host has got a female tucked away all for himself," Zeke growled.
Brandis snarled. "You know the rules, Nigel. You've got no right to withhold one from the hunt."
Nigel dragged his gaze from the woman's pale face with an effort. The little fool, he thought angrily. He couldn't protect her now that they'd seen her. The pack would tear him apart if he tried and take her anyway. Their beasts were already upon them. They wouldn't care that she wasn't one of them, that she didn't belong in the hunt. He forced a feral smile. "Mes amis! You misjudge me. It was never my intention to withhold her, only to present her when the time was right. But, since you are all so impatient, I will go and get her now."
He strode briskly toward the house, aware even as he did that a number of the pack, no doubt distrustful of his motives, detached themselves from the others and moved around the perimeter of the house to watch the exits. Several followed him, as well.
Ignoring them, he walked briskly through the house and up the stairs, surrept.i.tiously fishing the key from his pocket as he walked. He had a slight lead on them by the time he reached the door to her room, but not much.
Unlocking the door, he strode quickly across the room. She was staring at him, wide eyed with fear, as if she had sensed, finally, that she was in grave danger. He grasped her upper arms, leaning close and spoke quickly in a low voice. "Don't ask any questions. Do exactly as I say. When you're told to run you must go to the old storm shelter and stay there. Take the path through the woods toward the rising moon. When you reach the fork in the path you will see an oak about six feet in diameter. Swing to your right, away from the fork and go into the woods twenty paces. The door is in the ground, covered with leaves. Go inside and lock yourself in and whatever happens, do not unlock the door. Understand?"
Cher nodded shakily. "The storm shelter in the woods."
He flashed her a brief smile. "Good girl."
He turned as he heard the two men who'd followed him come into the room, holding her tightly by one arm. "As you see."
The two men looked her over almost ... hungrily. Cher shivered, glancing at Nigel.
Without another word, he escorted her from the room, down the stairs and out into the night.
An eerie quiet had fallen over the group gathered in the yard. It wasn't a calm sort of silence, however, but rather it seemed to shiver with tension, as if everyone who stood on the lawn were only waiting for a signal to launch into action.
To Cher's surprise, Nigel escorted her to the center of the group, then released her and stepped away. Nervous, she looked around. A wide circle had been cleared at the center of the group. In the circle with her stood four other women. Beyond the opening, several dozen men crowded shoulder to shoulder, their faces taut, their eyes gleaming.
Cher swallowed with a gulp and glanced at the women, wondering if they were as unnerved as she was. She saw that they were studying her almost as intently as the men were, though their faces were filled with suspicion and maybe even a little hostility.
They looked like-gymnasts-lean, taut.
She suddenly felt like a marshmallow-soft and squishy in all the wrong places, although she wasn't entirely certain why. She kept in shape. She had a good figure, by d.a.m.n. Maybe she wasn't as taut as these snotty females, but she wasn't a blob either.
"Most of you who have come for the gathering have been before and know the rules. For those of you who do not, they are simple: The females will be given a fifteen minute head start.
The male who catches her can only claim her for his mate if he is strong enough, and determined enough to face any who challenge him for the woman.
Once a male has marked his female, however, she is his by Lycan law and no one may challenge him for his mate."
Cher stared at him blankly. He might as well have been speaking Swahili for all the sense she could make of it. He couldn't, surely, mean that shethey--were supposed to try to outrun this pack of men? She glanced around at the other women and saw that they looked as stunned and horrified as she felt- obviously they hadn't known they were on the menu either.
Outrun them to where? For how long? They were on a f.u.c.king island for chrissake!
She glanced nervously at the men and saw that a good half dozen had begun to inch forward into the circle-they almost seemed to be-sniffing her, like they were trying to get her scent.
Exactly what the h.e.l.l was a Lycan, anyway?
"Get back!" Nigel roared, making her jump and turn to stare at him.
"Shewolves," he ground out, staring straight at Cher. "Run!"
Cher froze. Stunned as the four women ranged beside her tore off toward the woods as if their life depended upon getting as far away as they possibly could as fast as they could.
"Now!" Nigel growled.
Cher jumped about a foot, whirled around toward the trees and sprawled out on her belly in the dirt so hard she grunted as the air left her lungs. Terror had her firmly in its grip now, however. Without hesitation, she scrambled to her feet and headed for the trees. "Path, path, path," she muttered looking around frantically as she reached the tree line and began running back and forth along the edge of the trees, too mindless with terror to form a coherent thought. "The moon," she thought suddenly and glanced around.
She saw a patch of moonlight and realized it had spotlighted the entrance of the path. "One Mississippi, two Mississippi--Jesus f.u.c.king Christ! Where the h.e.l.l was I supposed to go?" she panted out as she swung onto the path at last and spared a look back.
The sight that greeted her put an extra spring in her step. She bounded along the path like a white tailed deer, her mind focused on trying to figure out just how many minutes had pa.s.sed. Five? Ten?
She heard baying behind her. Her hair stood on end.
She ran right past the oak. Unable to put on brakes fast enough, she skidded like a baseball player sliding into home plate. Clawing at the ground, she gained her feet again and ran back to the oak tree, huffing for breath as she looked around, frantically trying to remember what Nigel had said. The tree. The fork. Left of the tree? Right of the f.u.c.king tree?
Right! That was it, swing right. The tore off the trail, ran a couple of yards and remembered she'd been facing the opposite direction. It was her other right.
Swinging around, she charged across the path again, this time away from the fork, like he'd said.
Twenty paces. Her paces? His paces?
She counted twenty long strides and got down on her hands and knees, feeling along the ground frantically. The baying was growing louder and she had a real bad feeling it wasn't dogs.
She couldn't feel anything that felt like wood.
Had he been f.u.c.king with her?
She widened the circle of her search. Suddenly, as she brushed away a handful of leaves, her hand slipped along something rough, and definitely wooden. Thrusting the leaves aside she searched desperately, blindly for a handle, a catch. She found the hinges and felt along the opposite side until she found what she'd been searching for. Almost weeping with relief, she heaved upward.
The door was heavy. She felt like she'd ruptured something important before she managed to lever it open far enough to squeeze inside. She screamed as she fell, landing in a stunned heap at the bottom of the hole. "s.h.i.t!"
It was as profoundly dark as a black hole-a complete and total absence of light that felt suffocatingly thick.
A totally new terror seized her. Blindly, waving her arms in front of her, she searched for steps, a ladder -there had to be some way into the d.a.m.n thing besides just falling in!
She found the ladder with her nose. She had absolutely no clue of how she could've been waving her arms in front of her and still managed to walk right into the thing, but she did mange it. She was stunned for about two seconds, then she was searching for hand and footholds and scaling the ladder right back to the top.
She's already stared heaving at the door, trying to get out, when she heard the wolves. She stopped, trying to listen over her heart, which was pounding in her ears like Indian war drums.
It sounded like wolves.
She decided she didn't want to find out.
Easing the door down, she felt around and finally found the bolt Nigel had told her about and shoved it in place. She slipped off a rung as she started back down and landed in a heap on the floor again.
She stayed where she was, curling into a tight ball and trying not to think what might be in the hole with her.
That wasn't as difficult as it might have been.
Insulated as she was, she could still hear the baying and ha.s.sling of the wolves.
They had to be close.
She heard something scratching at the door and her hair stood on end again. Covering her mouth with her hand, she stared upward, wondering if there was any possibility they could actually get that heavy wooden door open.
Surely not? Surely to G.o.d all she had to do was just sit tight, wait, and they'd go away.
They didn't go away, however. They could smell her. They began clawing at the door, rattling it. Cher began chewing on her nails, her eyes glued to the point where she could hear the rattling growing louder and louder, as if they were heaving back and forth against it.
She jumped all over when she heard the sudden crack of wood. Abruptly, the door was heaved open. A square of dim light appeared above her but disappeared almost immediately as something big and dark leapt through it.
Cher screamed, whirling mindlessly to flee even as a great weight slammed into her, driving her toward the ground. She struggled, kicking, biting, scratching at the man who'd grabbed her-because it was a man, not a wolf, and she was no less terrified.
Another dark shape appeared. The two began pulling at her. Within a few moments, she was dragged up the ladder and through the opening. She screamed again when she saw that others waited there, in the darkness. Dozens of hands grabbed at her, dragging her first one way and then another.
They fell upon one another, snarling, biting, rending at each other with their claws. One managed to fight the others off and started dragging her toward the path. Abruptly, another dark shape flew from the trees, this one notably larger than the others. Within moments, he'd waded through three of the men. Two had fallen to the ground and did not get back up. A third fled.
He watched the man who fled for a moment and turned, leaping toward the two men and the woman that struggled a few yards away. Knocking both men to the ground, he caught one around the neck and tore at his throat. When he'd defeated his opponent, he looked around once more, only to discover that they last man had scrambled up while he was occupied, grabbed the woman and was struggling to drag her deeper into the woods while she fought and clawed at him.
He caught up to them in four bounds, landing squarely in the man's back. The woman rolled free andbegan scrambling away as he and his foe faced off, flew at each other, rending each other's flesh withtheir teeth and claws. It took him longer to dispatch the man than he'd expected.
He rose shakily to his feet when he'd killed him, looking around for her, testing the air for her scent. It was difficult to pick it up, however, when the others had dragged her all over the clearing. "Cher?"
He lifted his head, listening.
"Nigel?"
As he turned toward the sound of her voice, she flew from the woods, slamming against him so hard, he took a step back. Her scent engulfed him instantly in a red haze of l.u.s.t. He wrapped his arms around her. "My beast is upon me, chere," he growled warningly.
Instead of moving away, she hugged herself more tightly to him, as if she would crawl inside of him.
She did crawl inside of him, seeping into his pores, arousing his beast until he had to struggle to keep it at bay.
Chapter Four.
Nigel growled fiercely and took her to the ground, sending up a spray of leaves as they hit it. She gasped in surprise, too stunned to struggle. He was beyond holding himself back.
He crushed his mouth down upon hers, thrusting his tongue inside to rub against her own. The urge to taste, to dominate was too great. She went stiff with shock, and he tasted fear before tremulous desire took hold.
He didn't have the time for finesse, and he d.a.m.n sure didn't want to be caught in the open before he had a chance to mark her. She would not be safe until he had.
Tension throbbed in his gut, tightening his chest and groin until he thought he would explode. He tore his mouth from hers, dragging his lips and tongue over her jaw and down her neck.
She tasted of salt and woman, sweet and soft to the touch. He couldn't feel enough of her to satisfy himself.
Her hands moved along his shoulders, a shy touch that had him gritting his teeth for control. He didn't know her, but she evoked a powerful response in him he was hard pressed to ignore.
He dragged his mouth down her chest, roughly pushing aside her halter top to latch on to one small, firm breast. Her nipple was hard before he reached it with his lips to tug on the tip. She gasped harshly, arching as he took it into his mouth and suckled her with a furious hunger. He moved, sc.r.a.ping her with his teeth, nuzzling her skin with his nose as if he could inhale her and appease the ravenous beast from taking hold.
l.u.s.t rioted off her body, potent, making his head swim with the faint scent of her arousal. Nigel's mouth watered with the desire to taste the cream of her flesh, to bury his tongue deep in her p.u.s.s.y until he slaked this insatiable thirst. His c.o.c.k surged to attention, straining against his pants. With a rough hand, he freed it and ground himself between her thighs, nearly coming with the molten feel of her trapped cleft. He groaned in frustration, to be so near his goal but so far away.
Even through her shorts, he could feel her damp heat, and the knowledge that she was as aroused as he was sent l.u.s.t spiraling through his body.
He slid his lips over hers again, kissing her, allowing her to know just how desperately he wanted her.
Cher sucked his tongue, too aroused to care where they were, what had happened ... what he'd done. He'd saved her from G.o.d only knew what, and she was so d.a.m.ned attracted to him, if he'd wanted to screw her in the middle of her parent's house, she'd be tempted.
She arched as he ground against her mound again, heightening the desperate need to feel him deep within her. With frantic hands, she plunged them between them, trying to peel her shorts off.
Breaking from her mouth, he lifted his hips and she pushed her shorts off her hips and down her legs with his help. In seconds, he was back against her, rocking, as if he couldn't bear to leave her touch for so long.
His hands roamed over her body, pinching her nipples, ma.s.saging her b.r.e.a.s.t.s before moving lover, down to her panties. He hadn't given her the chance to take them off, but as if realizing there was still the barrier to their joining, he snapped the flimsy sides and ripped them away.
Cher didn't care. All she knew was that if he didn't ease this incredible ache soon, she'd throw him on his back and ride him until he couldn't move anymore.
Nigel pulled back and hauled her legs up, throwing her ankles onto his shoulders. Her calves pressed against his chest, aching at the unfamiliar touch of hard muscles and crisp hair. The position left her completely vulnerable to him, her lips taut and exposed like a tight smile. He leaned forward, pressing her down.
A molten tip of flesh prodded her bare slit, making her belly jerk in response. She felt her juices gather, felt them slither down her c.u.n.t to her a.n.u.s. She'd never been so wet in all her life.
His c.o.c.k lodged at the entrance of her v.a.g.i.n.a, preparing to invade. He shuddered, as if trying to control himself, and then he pushed. Pushed that incredibly thick thing inside her, past the delicate edges of her hole.
Cher hissed in pain and pleasure, unable to believe how large he was. She could barely hold him, and couldn't keep from clenching as he worked his way inside. Her muscles spasmed with his advance, quivering with a sensation not unlike fear.
Desperation clawed at her loins. She planted her palms on the ground, giving herself the leverage she needed to move. She tightened her legs against him, muscles screaming from the position.