Chapter One:
Elias
 

Now that he was an Elder on the Council, things were going to change.

Elias Ivers had seen the foundation of their government — of sorts — and it was beginning to crack. If they didn’t act soon, it would shatter under its own weight. They would devolve into anarchy. The world couldn’t handle that.

They needed leadership and guidance lest humans rally together and somehow regain the rights they thought they ought to have. They were foolish creatures, of course, but there were always dreamers and would-be heroes. Even their lack of success might fuel the pathetic rebellion, which would be annoying to put down once more.

Something was coming — or would come if they weren’t careful. He wasn’t one to listen to madwomen, but Desideria had a knack for being right. If flames truly were to consume the world unless they acted, he would act. His brother Julian seemed to believe the insane vampiress was onto something, and he supposed she did have a point.

After all, Sector D of the human neighborhoods was on fire.

“For the last time,” Elias repeated himself yet again, his voice developing an edge, “something had to be done.”

“You aren’t authorized to make decisions like burning down entire neighborhoods,” Malone Kipling, one of the werewolf Elders, said. She rested her hands on the table, where her fingers curled as though just shy of turning into fists.

He couldn’t help but notice that her hands were larger than his own. His long, slender fingers looked elegant by comparison. She looked like a brute even in human form. If it wasn’t for the shine of intelligence in her eyes, he might’ve discounted her completely.

“I’m new.” Elias offered her a brittle smile. “I didn’t know any better.”

Callia Odessa peered at him from beneath long lashes and through brilliant blue eyes, humming softly.

He had to fight to keep the displeasure from his face. The blonde was so unprofessional-looking that it was nearly a crime. He supposed there wasn’t a dress code for the Elders, but really. He didn’t know what had possessed her to dye strands of her hair in vibrant colors or to dress in fishnets, leather, and lace like some a human teenager — even if she did look like one.

If she’d dressed formally, she might’ve looked older. All she did was encourage the image of a defiant youth. She looked out of place in a room full of men and women in work clothing.

But he supposed that wasn’t accidental. It was easy to dismiss her when she didn’t look like someone he ought to take seriously. Everything about her was so deliberately crafted that he didn’t know why the others couldn’t see through her facade.

Elias could… but even he occasionally forgot she wasn’t as empty-headed as she seemed. She was an Elder, and that didn’t happen because of luck.

“Yes, Elder Odessa?” Elias asked, just waiting for her to comment.

She would. She always had something to say, inane or otherwise. As the most public and accessible of the Elders, she’d been the one to go through to reach the Council. He’d been forced to work with her on more than one occasion if he’d wanted to get things done, and she’d been a nuisance even then.

The vampire Elder smiled at him, and it was sickeningly sweet. “I suppose you wanted to send a message,” Callia commented in a voice that was far too casual to be anything of the sort, “after the rebels chose to burn down one of our own neighborhoods.”

She was leading up to something.

Elias’s eyes narrowed because he didn’t know why she was baiting him… Yet. “Let’s not forget they murdered an Elder.”

“Let’s not forget you’re only an Elder because they did,” one of the other two witch Elders, Marcus Foss, interjected. His lips peeled back in an ugly smile. “If Isedora was still alive…”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Elias responded. He didn’t appreciate the incessant reminders that he was only there because a death had created a unique opening. He’d worked for his place, though, unlike the other two, who had been born into it.

Were they trying to test his patience, or would every Council meeting be this taxing? Then again, gathering three witches, three werewolves, and three vampires in the same room was always a recipe for disaster, especially when even his own kind had wanted to keep him out of power.

Well, they’d been fools if they’d thought they could for long.

In a way, he supposed he owed the rebels for murdering Isedora. He’d kindly ordered the fires to be set where some of them could escape with their lives even if he’d destroyed their homes.

It was, after all, the least he could do.

“Hush now, children,” Callia chided, as though she wasn’t the youngest-looking one of them in the room. “What’s done is done. I’ve sent enforcers to put out the fires.”

He expected to see disapproval on the others’ faces. After all, he’d ordered the fires to be set. She’d been the sole individual to order them to be put out. Wouldn’t they hold her to the same standards they were demanding of him?

Apparently not.

Elias’s gaze returned to her, and her blue eyes met his unerringly.

She smiled coyly at him, then continued. “The damage should be minimal, which is fortunate considering how restless the kine are becoming.”

One of her fellow vampire Elders, Manuel Diaz, scoffed. “Let them be… restless. They’re snarling beasts. It will be easy enough to put them down.”

“Then would you care to explain why you haven’t put them down already? The rebellious scum has been challenging you at every turn over the past decade,” Elias said with an arched brow.

“Careful, Ivers,” Gregory Rialto warned. His voice held a snarl to it, and even his eyes looked like those of a real wolf, dark amber and inhuman.

Some werewolves spent entirely too much time in their other form, and it extended far beyond their appearance. Like so many others of his kind, Gregory seemed on the verge of turning into something bestial.

Elias supposed that was what happened when ascension among their ranks depended on brute strength rather than lineage or even cunning.

“Now that Paul Franklin is dead, and Noah Franklin has been turned, putting the rebellion down should be a simple matter,” Callia chimed in. “I learned a great deal from dearest Paul before he fell prey to your… Tartarus, Elias.”

Elias’s eyes narrowed. As though it wasn’t bad enough that she disrespected him by calling him by his first name, she had to bring up the worst of the rebels.

Paul Franklin, the late leader of the rebellion, had destroyed too many of the supes that had been loosed upon him in Elias’s maze. Hunting him down and killing him should’ve been mere sport — challenging sport, perhaps, but a game nonetheless. Instead, it had turned into a bloodbath for those who had paid to play with their prey.

He was still recovering from the damage that night had wrought on his business. After all, supes stepped into his maze for a challenge, not to die.

“And you haven’t seen fit to share that information?” Elias retorted, his eyes darkening.

If she kept taunting him…

“I shared the information with the Council,” Callia replied sweetly, gesturing around at the seven others around them. “They were the only ones who needed the information.”

“Not all of them know. I am, in case you have not noticed, Callia, one of the Elders now,” Elias told her — as though she truly needed the reminder.

“Then we shall arrange a private meeting to discuss it. For now, I believe you’ve taken up enough of the Council’s time, hmm?” She smiled at Elias. “Our newest Elder made a mistake, but it’s been taken care of. We won’t have any future incidents.”

Elias’s blood boiled. Of all the people to condescend to him, she was perhaps the worst in the room.

“Are we finished?” Frederick Orrin asked, looking at his phone.

Elias was certain the third vampire Elder hadn’t paid attention to any of the meeting. It was appalling. The lack of professionalism of the three astounded him, but he didn’t have a say in who rose to the highest ranks of leadership among the vampires. Only their own kind did, and they’d chosen poorly as far as he was concerned.

“I need a minute with you, Callia,” Malone said, staying seated.

Callia nodded. Everyone else rose, making no secret of how ready they were to leave the room. More than one glare was directed in his direction, but Elias ignored them. He remained seated, too, silently inviting himself to their meeting.

“Only with Callia,” Malone added, her own wolf-like eyes steady upon his.

“I need a moment with her as well,” Elias stated coolly.

“You can make an appointment,” Callia told him with that too-sweet smile on her lips. “I only have time for one unscheduled meeting. Now shoo.”

How dare she.

The sheer audacity of the vampire had him seeing red, and his fingers twitched until they damn near turned into fists. He needed to get home, where Jace would be waiting. He might not be able to touch either of the women in the room, but he could take out his anger upon his werewolf pet.

“Careful, Elder Odessa,” Elias said as he slowly rose. “Even the mighty can fall.”

“Was that a threat, Elder Ivers?” Callia asked, tilting her head. The smile froze on her lips, her eyes turning icy and giving way to the real woman behind the illusion — someone who was sharp and quick-witted, able to fool those around her into thinking she was nothing even as she manipulated them.

Elias reminded himself that she’d been on the Council for three decades while he had only a month beneath his belt, and he took in a deep breath. “Of course not. Have a pleasant evening, ladies.”

“You do the same,” Callia replied.

Malone only stared at him, crossing her arms against her chest, her expression blank.

Elias shook his head and left the room, purposely — pettily — leaving the door open behind him so one of them would need to get up and close it.

He was taking the damnable woman’s bait. She wanted him to act foolishly, and he knew she’d happily set him up to do just that. He had to remain diligent in ignoring her taunts. He was the one who was supposed to reign supreme. She might have had significant influence as the media liaison, but he wasn’t going to fall prey to her games.

Patience.

He hadn’t gotten this far by expecting everything to change at once, and perhaps he had acted too rashly by ordering the fires. He’d thought the Council might appreciate the action, but it was clear they’d lost their teeth. No wonder the rebellion was still a danger to the foolish. The Elders hadn’t done a damn thing even after one of their own had been assassinated.

It didn’t matter that he’d benefited from it. The humans could not be allowed to get away with their crimes, and despite Callia’s calm insistence that Noah Franklin hadn’t been involved, he didn’t believe her.

After all, the young vampire was just as much of a brute as his father had been. Death wouldn’t have changed him, and Elias hardly believed his allegiances had shifted.

If only he could get his hands on Noah… But no. His whore of a sire had stolen him away, and the laws didn’t allow Elias to claim him.

Yet.

Nearly blinded by his anger at the failed first attempt at exerting his authority, Elias closed his eyes. He remembered the sight of his ‘wolf fucking Noah until the fledgling begged Jace to stop. He could damn near feel Malkhaz’s hand on his cock, desperately trying to satiate his need for things the vampire could never understand — and while a handjob was nice, that wasn’t what he wanted or needed from Malkhaz.

He couldn’t get home quickly enough.

“Elder Ivers, I—”

Elias swept past his personal assistant, already loosening his tie. “Not now, Spencer.”

“But sir, I—”

Elias whirled around, his eyes blazing as he stared at the werewolf. “I’m on my way to visit your lover,” he said coldly for all that heat blazed in his belly. “Do you really wish to make things worse for him?”

He didn’t usually play his hand so heavily, but he was hardly in the mood to have his time taken up by a vampire blood-addicted weakling of a werewolf. The only reason he kept Spencer around was to keep Jace in line, their supposed love making it easy to manipulate both of them.

Soon, he wouldn’t even need Spencer to ensure Jace’s cooperation.

In fact, he wondered if he even did now…

Spencer took a step back, his face pale. He shook his head quickly.

It was a wonder that still worked on Spencer, really. How much of that reaction was out of reflex, and how much of it was because he truly cared what happened to Jace?

Either way, it was enough to get the pathetic creature to back off, which meant he could get to his real goal: the werewolf in his bedroom.

He closed the door behind him and locked himself and his pet away from the world outside.

Jace scrambled to his hands and knees as Elias turned to face him, and his ‘wolf’s eyes darted up to search Elias’s face. Whatever it was he saw there made him shudder, and he let out a doglike whine as he shied away until his ass pressed against the back of the kennel.

“Come,” Elias said sharply.

The werewolf obeyed, if sluggishly. He crawled out of the open kennel and went to sit at Elias’s feet, where Elias could twist his fingers in his pet’s hair and jerk his face up until he stared down into the ‘wolf’s eyes. They were green, lighter than Elias’s own, and they still looked human. He wasn’t like the werewolves on the Council, bestial and animalistic.

Yet…

Elias had turned Jace into something else, something less, something more. The ‘wolf had never seemed to realize it wasn’t about the kink or even the sex. He had never seemed to understand that those things were the means to the end, and all Elias had cared about was that his pet broke.

In the end, Jace had bent until he’d broken, and now he was a blank canvas for Elias to create his art upon.

No, not a blank canvas. Some of the picture had already been filled in, but there were so many spots that had yet to be decorated.

“Wag your tail for me,” Elias ordered.

Jace may not have had some supernaturally-installed tail like certain other infamous pets, but he didn’t need one. Elias liked seeing the effort it took for his pet to make his ass shake just the right way to get the tail to wag properly. And besides… the puppy persona was more strategy and an entertaining pastime than anything else.

Ordinarily, he’d have praised the ‘wolf for his effort, but this wasn’t a normal day. He wasn’t in the mood to be kind. Jace knew it, and he trembled — as he should! — before his master.

Elias took a deep breath, staring down at his creation before finally releasing his hold on Jace’s hair. He shoved his pet to the floor and onto his back, his foot lifting only to press down on the ‘wolf’s balls.

Jace whimpered, and as the pressure became greater, the whimper turned into a whine.

But he never moved. He never tried to pull away.

Elias lifted his foot and stepped aside, gazing down at his pet. Beautiful, but so unappreciated by others. Elias knew what he could do with a creature like this, yet no one would ever expect Jace to be more than a dog.

But even dogs weren’t simply pets, were they? They could be trained in so many ways, just like a human — or a werewolf — could.

“All fours,” he ordered Jace, his voice clipped as he unfastened his trousers and shoved them and his boxers down. He wasn’t in the mood for foreplay or other entertainment. No, he wanted to remember Malkhaz and Noah’s begging, the way he’d held their lives in the palm of his hand and had played with them like they were puppets.

It made his cock, which was already half-hard from exploring his perfect control over Jace, rise in full.

Elias grabbed the end of the tail plug in Jace’s ass and pulled, watching as that perfect little asshole closed again. The lube from the plug would have to be enough. He was in no mood to wait. He shoved the tail into Jace’s mouth and forcefully closed his jaws around it. “Don’t drop that,” he ordered before circling back around behind him.

The head of his cock pressed against Jace’s ass cheeks, and Elias slowly spread them before the tip found its way inside.

For all his anger, he didn’t slam inside at full force. He didn’t want to start off so predictably and give Jace a chance to expect what he was doing. No, he wanted his dog to relax and get comfortable, to think he was safe… then Elias would do what Jace had known was coming.

One stroke, leisurely and slow, enough to get his cock fully hard, and he slid deep into his ‘wolf’s tight ass. He shushed his pet’s whimpers and leaned down, almost lovingly kissing the flesh of his shoulder. Then he bit down, teeth breaking flesh as his cock drove the first deep, harsh thrust inside of Jace.

The sound Jace made was music to him, the perfect soundtrack to the fucking that reflected his mood.

Elias bit him again, only three times in three places, but it was enough to leave his dog trembling before the real fuck even began.

He pulled out right before he was about to come, then took his cock in hand. He only had to stroke himself a handful of times before ropes of cum spilled all over Jace’s back. He stood there for a moment, breathing hard, then drew his finger through it before returning to stand in front of Jace. He painted the cum above the ‘wolf’s upper lip so it would be all he could smell.

“Put your plug back in,” Elias ordered. “And before you think about taking your sweet time, remember that my time is far too valuable for that. All at once, pet, unless you want to be punished.”

Jace shuddered, but Elias knew it was the idea of punishment that had him taking the tail plug from between his teeth and pressing it against his thoroughly-used ass. One harsh thrust, one pained grunt, then the tail plug seated itself in place.

While he watched Jace, Elias pulled his pants back up and into place.

It was only then that Elias ran his fingers through his trembling pet’s hair. “Good boy,” he said.

It was like he’d given air to a dying man.

Jace’s tail wagged in earnest, and he nuzzled Elias’s hand.

“That’s right,” he said softly, the edge taken off of his anger. “Master’s home. And we, my pet, have a great deal of work to do.”