Desire Unchained

Cursing, she called Tayla. She’d gotten to know Eidolon’s mate over the past couple of weeks, and right now, she was their best hope to keep the wargs outside the cage from running amok.

“What’s up, Runa?”

“I don’t have time to explain. I’ve got a problem. Wargs in my basement. If they get out of the house …”

“Shit. Okay, I’ll gather a team and get them contained.”

“Don’t kill them.”

“I know. We’ll be careful.”

Runa hung up, wondering if, even after a year of being bonded to a demon, it still felt odd for Tayla to ensure the safety of creatures such as werewolves instead of killing them. Granted, Runa had wanted to kill Luc for what he’d done to her, but she was thankful that she hadn’t. He wasn’t the most friendly guy on the planet, but he had, in his gruff way, apologized for attacking her.

The apology was unnecessary. She was stronger, tougher, and her longer lifespan would give her plenty of time with Shade. If a cure ever became available, she’d turn it down.

She glared at the men who were tearing apart her basement. She’d be happy to inject them with the cure, however.

Shade’s roar shook the entire house. His scent flooded the basement as he flew down the steps and leaped into the center of the fray. He was still wearing scrubs, but he wore his usual combat boots, and they caused the rivals a world of pain as he landed kicks as high as their heads.

“Stay in the cage!” he yelled at her, when she reached for the lock.

“But you could just slip inside—”

“I need to win this.”

Her heart swelled. After a year of being a were, she instinctively understood his determination. The fights struck her human side as barbaric, but the part of her that was female and warg appreciated the raw thrill of being the prize in an age-old battle for possession.

If Shade’s enthusiasm was any indication, he felt the same way. He needed to fight for her. Wanted to fight for her. He’d bonded with her as a Seminus demon, but he was compelled to do the same as a warg.

A shiver of both feminine excitement and fear prickled her skin. If he lost …

Shade’s boot caught the dark-haired man in the chest, sending him crashing into a shelf of canned goods. As the other man crumpled to the floor, unconscious, Runa let out a relieved breath. One down, one to go.

Testosterone and fury turned the air to soup as the blond launched himself at Shade, slamming them both into the stair railing. The blond nailed Shade with an uppercut that snapped his head back with enough force that his eyes glazed.

“Shade!” She rattled the cage, fumbling for the combination lock as the blond took advantage of Shade’s stunned state and pulled a Swiss Army knife from his jeans pocket.

In a sweeping arc, the man brought the blade down. Shade twisted away at the last moment. The blade struck a glancing blow at his shoulder, slicing open his scrub top and leaving a thin red line.

“Son of a bitch,” Shade snarled. He whirled, crunching a series of blows into the other male’s torso and face with his fists and feet. The knife flew out of the blond’s hand, but in about ten seconds it would be useless anyway …

The painful tightening of Runa’s skin caught her by surprise. The change was upon them all.

“Hurry, Shade!”

Hands trembling and already beginning to elongate, she shed her clothes. Shade caught the blond by one furry arm and slammed him to the ground, then quickly kicked off his boots. The blond snared his ankle, bringing Shade to the floor with him. They were both more beast than man now, and their snapping jaws and flashing claws brought a whole new element of danger—and excitement—to the battle.

Runa’s mind began to go fuzzy, her thoughts hijacked by her growing lust, her body taken over by the scent of battle in the air. The door. She needed to open the door before she was nothing but animal.

She fumbled with the lock, and as the door clicked open, pain tore through her. Her bones cracked and her joints stretched, and through the roar of blood rushing in her ears, she heard the males’ groans of agony, as well. This was the worst part of being a werewolf, dealing with the painful transformation.

Through the misery, Shade somehow held on to his determination to win the battle. He palmed the other warg’s forehead and slammed his skull into the concrete floor. The sharp crack echoed through the basement, and by the time it had faded away, Shade was there, leaping through the cage door. He slammed it shut, and though he didn’t lock it, she didn’t care. The transformation had taken her completely.

So had the mating heat.

Shade stood before her on two black-furred legs, a massive, beautiful creature that was as fully aroused as she was. He lunged at her, and she dodged to the side. As much as she wanted him, he had one more test to pass.

He had to best her, as well.

His raw, erotic growl swept through her like a muscle-deep caress, warming her, preparing her for him. Right now she was little more than a raging mass of hormones, and deep inside her womb contracted and her sex clenched. Still, when he reached for her, she slashed him with her claws.

In an instant, he was on her. She snarled, snapping at him with her teeth, but he locked his jaws on her scruff and held her in place. With one last burst of power, she threw herself sideways, dislodging him momentarily as they crashed into the side of the cage.

Her victory was short-lived, and in a blur of fur and fangs, he had her where he wanted her once again, and in one smooth, powerful stroke, he filled her.

Ecstasy exploded through her body, far more than a sexual high. Seminus bond or no, this was her true mate.

Shade’s howl joined hers, a celebration in the night.

Shade woke, na**d, battered, and exhausted, spooning with Runa, who stirred as he stretched. Wincing at the twinge of sore muscles and aching joints, he stroked her arm. His eyes were still closed, mainly because he planned to go back to sleep for a week.

The last three nights and days had been the most exhausting of his life. Not that he was complaining. He and Runa had mated constantly in both their warg forms and true forms, taking breaks during the day only to eat. Someone, probably Tayla or Eidolon, had left them meat the first night—he didn’t recall them coming in to take away the males he’d fought and to lock the cage door so he and Runa wouldn’t escape, but he was pretty glad he didn’t remember. No doubt they’d gotten an eyeful of werewolf mating habits.

E would never let him live this one down.

Beneath his hand, Runa’s silky skin heated. Not just heated, but seared his palm. He struggled to open his eyes. His vision was blurry, and having Runa’s mane of hair in his face didn’t help. Groaning, he shoved himself up on one elbow.

“Mmm.” Runa yawned. “What are you doing?”

“I’m—” He froze. His breath lodged like a plug in his throat. Her left arm … holy hell.

Runa shot him a concerned look over her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her arm. “You’re marked. You’ve got my mate-mark.”

“Seriously?” As she squirmed into a sit, her grin hit him right in the heart. “Oh, wow. It’s real, isn’t it?” Her hand came down on his, and she twined their fingers together as she traced the patterns on her skin. “We’re bonded.”

“Yeah.” Intense emotion made him sound as if he’d swallowed a truckload of crushed glass. “You’re mine now.”

Her hand stilled, and her gaze locked on his. “I always was. You just couldn’t see it.”

“I’m so sorry—”

She pressed her fingers to his lips. “You couldn’t see it because your life was on the line.”

He kissed her hand, as lovingly as he could, letting his lips linger. “You deserved so much better than what I gave you.”

“Yes,” she said smartly, “I did. But, like you, I couldn’t see it.” She reached up and skimmed the pads of her fingers over his personal mark at the top of his dermoire. “An unseeing eye.”

“I always wondered why that was my symbol. E has a set of scales, but he was born to Justice demons, so that made sense. Wraith’s got an hourglass … we always joke that it’s because he’s impatient and never on time. But mine … mine never made sense.”

“It’s open now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your mark. It’s an open eye now. No longer unseeing.”

Shade’s eyes stung. “Eidolon’s scales were unbalanced until he bonded with Tayla.” He swallowed, trying not to do something wussy like cry. “He didn’t discover the change for days.”

“So he’s balanced now … and you’re no longer blind.”

“Never again.”

She rolled over, hooked her leg over his, and drew him in. After the last three nights, he hadn’t thought he could get turned on again—not for weeks, at least—but having her na**d, heated body rubbing against his triggered sensations he couldn’t deny.

The ringing of a cell phone interrupted his inappropriate thoughts.

“I’m not answering,” he murmured.

“You need to. It’s your brother’s tone.”

Shade tucked Runa beneath him and let voicemail pick it up. Eidolon was going to have to wait.

Eidolon’s voicemail message turned out to be urgent, so Shade and Runa showered, scarfed down breakfast—he made her pancakes, because nothing tasted better than carbs after three nights of raw meat—and sped to UG on his Harley. They found Eidolon in his office, scowling at a stack of paperwork on his desk.

“I finally got the inventory report back for the storeroom,” he said without a hello. “We have a problem.”

Shade took a seat and pulled Runa into his lap. “So Roag definitely got away with something?” When E nodded, Shade cursed. Their brother was gone forever and yet he was still causing trouble. They’d known he’d broken into the storeroom somewhere around the time he’d tried to kill Luc, but they hadn’t known what, exactly, he’d stolen. “What did he take?”