But with Brekker’s chest presses against my shoulders, his hands wrapping around my waist, the fear recedes. Still there, still enough to make me feel antsy, but in its place is that heady, delicious lust for him.
“I present Aileen of Clan Claw,” Brekker shouts, and I curl back into him, surprised at it. “Aileen,” he roars my name. I try to step away from him, but he holds me close, his fingernails digging into the silken dress.
Not fingernails.
Claws. Holy shit.
“Aileen of Earth, do you accept me as your mate?”
I have an out. I can say yes, but if something goes hellaciously wrong, I can call Violet from Starlight Lottery. This is going to be fine.
It’s going to be an adjustment.
The hall falls eerily silent, save for a few high-pitched yips of excitement.
Better than the computer-voiced brain in a vial making lewd comments at me. I shiver.
Brekker starts touching me, though, and my thoughts fall away. The pads of his fingers rub small circles on my stomach, the bottom of my rib cage, making my breath catch.
Making me want, making me wet.
“Yes,” I say, and I’m surprised to hear how clear and strong my voice is.
“Good little mate,” Brekker breathes against my skin, the words warm against the curve of my neck and shoulder. I squirm against him, craving the hard length of his cock. It’s pressed against my lower back, and I want it.
“So small and—”
Whatever else I am is cut off.
“No human has the right to lead Clan Claw as the mate of the Alpha,” a new voice sounds.
A low growl tears from Brekker. It reverberates through my chest from the force of it, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up.
“That isn’t your choice to make, Konrad,” Brekker says. He sounds inhuman, too much bite at the end of the words, like his mouth’s having trouble forming them at all.
“She smells like a human. Weak. Afraid. Prey.” The speaker, Konrad, finally pushes through to the front of the werewolves. His fingers have fully transformed, long claws where the nails should be, his teeth longer than humanly possible in his mouth. Violence radiates from him, and he’s not wrong—my first instinct is to turn tail and run.
“She smells ready for my seed,” Brekker growls. “She smells ready to bear my pups.”
My nose wrinkles. “Pups?” His seed? What the fuck?
Then his fingers start that absolutely spectacular circle beneath my ribs again, and I decide maybe I do like pups, after all.
“Do you agree to be my bride, Aileen of Earth?” Brekker asks again, and this time, there’s a possessive edge to it that makes me want to crawl into bed with him and stay there for the next month.
“Yep,” I say immediately. I cringe, though, because did I really just say yep? That’s how I answered my new—
Sharp fangs dig into my neck, right where Brekker’s been breathing all over. Pain and shock war for my attention, the blinding pain turning into an aching throb.
“Oh,” I gasp. My knees give out, but Brekker pins me to his body, his arm a vise around my waist.
He bit me.
It hurts.
Blood roars in my ears, so loud it takes me long, too long, to realize the crowd is chanting my name. His claws dig into my flesh, and I struggle weakly against him, my stomach roiling.
Finally, the pounding rush of blood and pain in my shoulder gives way, and I sag in relief. Something cool rasps along the wound, and I flinch in surprise when I half turn toward it.
Brekker is licking me.
The gathered assembly of werewolves howls, a cacophony of otherworldly voices.
“Now we’re married,” Brekker tells me, still holding me so tight against him that I’m not sure I could breathe deeply.
I guess I won’t get a wedding at all.
Just a chomp. Wham, bam, chomp you, ma’am.
CHAPTER 7
BREKKER
Her honeyed taste ignites my senses. My teeth sink easily into the soft flesh of her neck. The skin’s silken smooth, the salt and iron warmth of her life’s blood intoxicating.
Aileen shudders against me, a soft moan parting her lips.
My cock aches in my pants, and my claws extend without a second thought, my control slipping as they prick through the fabric swathed around her body.
Panic grips me in the next moment.
The faces of my clan, my pack, swimming around me, the riot of noise and scent unsettling me and challenging the control I so dearly need.
I cannot allow my clan to see anything but my iron fist—one voice of dissent is still too many.
If they knew I carried the blood lust gene, and that’s why I must take a human mate?
Clan Claw would be well within their rights to depose me immediately.
I inhale deeply, struggling with the beast that wants out, that wants to hunt. I catch Aileen’s sweet scent, and it grounds me.
My hands squeeze around her soft body once, and then I loosen my grip, forcing the beast down, down where he can’t hurt anyone—can’t hurt her.
Her hand slaps against the jagged puncture of my teeth on her collarbone, and I frown at the way her chest heaves, her forehead wrinkled in dismay.
She’s upset.
Why? I have given her my mating mark, and I’m the prize of Clan Claw—were it not for the blood lust gene, which a human is incapable of passing on.
A frown curves the corners of my mouth down.
“Come, my Aileen,” I tell her. “We leave this place.”
“You don’t want to show her where she’s going to be living?” Tessa objects, frowning right back at me.
“Not right now,” I say sharply, a growl rasping on the last syllable.
“What do you want, Aileen?” Tessa asks her.
“You would question me in front of the clan on the day of my marriage?” There’s no disguising the growl now.
“No one is paying attention. They’re all too busy getting drunk.” Tessa rolls her eyes. “Tell me, human sister, do you want to see where you’ll be living, or do you want to go with him?”
“I can see it later,” she says quietly, all warm brown eyes and softness. She dips her chin at me, and my beast roars with approval at her near immediate submission. “If he needs to leave, we can leave.”
“I don’t need—” I start, but Tessa’s snort of amusement brings me up short.
She arches an eyebrow at me, her gaze darting back and forth meaningfully between the small woman still in my hands and my eyes.
“Fine.” I grit my teeth. “I do need to leave.”
“You two are going to get along just fine,” Tessa coos. “The transport’s already ready.”
“You knew I’d want to leave immediately,” I mutter.
She laughs again. “As soon as Aileen stepped off the ship. You’re less mysterious than you think you are.”
“Where are we going?” Aileen’s voice is so quiet that if it weren’t for our evolutionarily advanced hearing, I might not have even heard her plaintive question.
“Somewhere safe.”
“It’s not safe here?” She glances up at me, her cheeks pink and eyes narrowed in not fear, but annoyance.
“It will be safer for both of you at the lodge.” Tessa reaches for Aileen, then thinks better of touching her when my lip curls from my teeth. She clears her throat, shooting me an annoyed look. “Wulfric need time to bond with their mates, especially after the, uh, wedding ceremony.”