RotC 04 Rise to Submit Lynn Hagen

Rise of the Changelings, Book 4

Rise to Submit

Ian Campbell is a fang addict. He knows this, but is powerless
against the drug that has taken over his very existence. When

Newman, the vampire feeding his habit, tries to hand Ian over to
the coven to be drained, he knows it’s time to go.

While on the run himself after being accused of bombing the

college that he attended, Mason is sent to pick up Ian. He finds
that Ian isn't a happy man. In fact, Ian tries to escape.

But little does Ian know that the very man he is running from
might be the only man who can bring him back from the

devastation his addiction has caused.

Rick is leading a war to save his species, and his job only grows

tougher when Ian returns, and the alpha must tell Dorian, his
mate and Ian’s brother, that he suspects Ian of being a mole.

NOTE! You are purchasing Siren's newest imprint, the Siren Epic

Romance collection. This is Book 4 of 7 in the Rise of the
Changelings series. The series shares an overall story arc with

many crossover characters playing major roles in each book.
These books are not stand-alone and should be read in their

numbered order.

Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Paranormal,
Vampires/Werewolves
Length: 79,330 words

RISE TO SUBMIT

Rise of the Changelings, Book 4

Lynn Hagen

SIREN EPIC ROMANCE,

MANLOVE

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED:
Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to
only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on
your own personal computer or device. You do not have
resell or distribution rights without the prior written
permission of both the publisher and the copyright
owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any
format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer
to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer
program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest.
Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright
Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online,
offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently
known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not
want this book anymore, you must delete it from your
computer.

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution
of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright
infringement, including infringement without monetary
gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5
years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book being sold or shared
illegally, please let us know at
legal@sirenbookstrand.com

A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Siren Epic Romance, ManLove

RISE TO SUBMIT
Copyright © 2013 by Lynn Hagen
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-180-0

First E-book Publication: March 2013

Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be
reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including
electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without
express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance
to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

If you have purchased this copy of Rise to Submit by Lynn Hagen
from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also,
thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy

This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or
group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing
rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this
book.

The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying
readers high-quality reading entertainment.

This is Lynn Hagen’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect
Ms. Hagen’s right to earn a living from her work.

Amanda Hilton, Publisher

www.SirenPublishing.com

www.BookStrand.com

RISE TO SUBMIT

Rise of the Changelings, Book 4

LYNN HAGEN

Chapter One

Rick lowered the binoculars and shook his head, knowing they

were going to add days to their journey. “The town is flooded with
Breed Hunters and soldiers. There’s no way to even go around the
area without being caught.”

Cities began to look like decimated war zones. Buildings were

bombed and the streets deserted. Cars sat haphazardly, burnt out or
abandoned. Martial law had already been declared, but Breed Hunters
and Rebellions ignored the order as they each hunted the other down,
ferretted out their enemy, and killed without hesitation.

And it seemed the Breed Hunters were taking advantage of the

desolate towns, using them as headquarters.

“Then that adds days to our travel.” Sasha Monroe, alpha of the

wereleopard changeling leap, stated Rick’s thoughts with irritation.

Rick handed him the binoculars. “There’s nothing we can do

about it.”

As much as Rick hated to be delayed, he was not going to risk his

group. A gaggle of weregeese were being attacked in Colorado and
had sent word that they needed help. They were not a predatory breed,
and Rick knew they were running for their lives instead of fighting.

8 Lynn

Hagen

“Call Loki, the alpha of the local weretiger pack, and let him

know they need to send their forces in,” Rick said to Mason, the
jaguar changeling with them. “Tell him I may not be able to make it
in time to help the geese.”

They used the Internet and other means of communication to send

messages and instructions that flew across the nation, relaying
anything the leader had planned.

The government tried to shut them down. But as soon as one site

was taken down, another sprang up.

The Rebellion would not be stopped.
They would not be defeated.
Rick looked over his group, seeing the sullen expressions on their

faces. Mason, Omar, Benito, Miguel, Dorian, Sasha, and Freedman
were still with Rick. All seven men had decided to stay with Rick’s
Rebellion group.

Too bad he couldn’t pull in Nate and Selene. They would be

perfect on his team. The problem with that was the fact that once the
two were done in Shelton, Edward Costello—Rick’s brother-in-law—
needed the two changelings.

Nate, Rick’s top enforcer, had texted him and told him that he was

going to give his search for Ian two more days, and then he was
leaving Shelton. Ian was Dorian’s brother, and Rick worried about the
man, but there wasn’t anything Rick could do about the situation. He
had to trust that Nate and Selene would get Ian out in time.

Dorian had made Rick promise that they would try their

damnedest to get Ian out of the BDSM club owned by Kraven, master
vampire of Hamilton.

No one could go in without risking Kraven sending his Mãos da

Morte

after them, so Nate was staking the place out, waiting,

watching.

“Let’s load up and move out,” Freedman said as he began to

descend down the small hill they had used to observe the town down
below.

Rise to Submit

“I really hate it when he acts as though he is in charge,” Sasha

snarled as he walked away.

Having two other dominant men in his group, aside from himself,

proved challenging considering Rick was an alpha and a predatory
changeling. He didn’t mind Freedman giving orders when things
needed to be done, but it seemed Sasha got his panties into a bind
whenever Freedman opened his mouth.

There were times when Rick wanted to kick the leopard out of the

truck and drive away. Sasha drove him crazy. But Rick dealt with it
the best he could. The changeling might be a pain in the ass, but he
was one hell of a man when it came to fighting and taking down the
enemy.

Rick needed as many capable people as he could get, so he dealt

with Sasha’s ever-changing mood.

“Maybe Nate should have left that cage with us,” Benito said as

he began to walk next to Rick. “That way you could shove Sasha’s
cranky ass in there when he starts acting like this.”

Rick chuckled at the serious expression on Benito’s olive-colored

face. “I’ll have to remember to tell Nate to bring it the next time he
heads our way.”

“When will he and Selene join us?” Miguel asked. “I miss the big

guy.”

Changelings, weaker or younger ones, always looked up to the

more dominant males for approval and guidance. Not only did
changelings need touch, but they needed to know their alpha was
there for them. Miguel and Benito loved and respected Nate. The man
was large, even for a changeling, and took care of business without
hesitation. Any juvenile would look up to someone like that.

“Soon,” Rick replied as he ran his hand over Benito’s hair. The

juvenile ate the attention up, giving off a low throaty sound as Rick
stroked his fingers through the strands.

10 Lynn

Hagen

Changeling touch had nothing to do with sex. It was a way to

reassure the pack and give them comfort. As alpha, Rick had no
problem giving the juveniles the touch they craved.

Miguel moved to the other side of Rick, leaning in slightly as they

walked. Rick grinned and began to play in Miguel’s hair as well.

“You two look ridiculous,” Omar scoffed as he walked behind

Rick and the others. “Grow up.”

Rick sighed. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with Omar.

The blond male seemed to grow more pessimistic as the weeks grew
into months. It had been four months since Rick had run from the
cops invading his home, and if anyone had any reason to be
cantankerous, it was him.

“Shut up, Omar,” Miguel snipped. “You’re just being an ass.”
Rick gently popped Miguel on the back of the head. There was no

force to it. “Leave him be.”

“Fine,” Miguel grumbled as he left Rick’s side and walked to the

truck. Benito spun around and pointed a finger in Omar’s face.

“You got Miguel in trouble with the alpha. Do that again and I’ll

kick your scrawny ass!”

“Try it,” Omar challenged.
“Whoa,” Freedman said as he pulled Omar away. “Get in the

truck before beanpole over there makes good on his threat.”

“I don’t need you saving me,” Omar snapped at Freedman as he

climbed into the truck. Rick knew it made Omar look weak to have
someone help him. Still, the guy needed to learn to let shit go. Benito
may be a beanpole, but Rick had a feeling he would hand Omar his
ass.

He shook his head as he climbed into the passenger seat,

Freedman taking the wheel. They had picked up a Ford Excursion. It
was big enough for everyone to fit, but hell on gas mileage.

“Dad texted me,” Dorian said from behind Rick.
Rick snapped his seat belt into place and then glanced over his

shoulder. “How are he and your mother?”

Rise to Submit

“He says Mom is doing a lot better. She isn’t waking up

screaming any longer,” Dorian said solemnly. “But she is still worried
sick about me and Ian.”

“She’s your mother,” Rick replied gently. “She’ll always worry

about her sons.”

“Any word from Nate?” Dorian asked. He had been asking the

same question once a day for the past four weeks. Again, Rick shook
his head. He prayed Nate found Ian before he left Shelton or Dorian
was going to go crazy. His mate blamed himself for Ian’s depravities
as it was. No matter how much Rick tried to convince him that he
wasn’t the one who got Ian hooked on vampire bites, Dorian wouldn’t
listen.

He also tried to explain to his mate that Ian’s involvement in the

BDSM lifestyle wasn’t about wanting to be beaten—Howard,
Dorian’s father had tried to talk to Dorian about it as well—the guy
wouldn’t listen.

Rick wasn’t sure what would make Dorian see that Ian wasn’t a

depraved man, just someone who was lost and needed help. Dorian
was usually an open-minded person, but when it came to drugs and
BDSM, the man was as stubborn as the day was long. With the war
going on, Rick had to pick and choose his battles. Fighting with
Dorian about Ian was something Rick was not going to do.

He just hoped one day Dorian changed his mind. Losing a brother

by death or by disownment was something no man should have to
endure. But if Dorian kept up with his views, there was no way Ian
would stick around.

That was if they found the man.
“Shit,” Freedman said from the driver’s seat. His features turned

hard as he stared into the rearview mirror.

“What?” Rick asked as he glanced in the side mirror to see a dark-

blue pickup truck behind them, full of gun-toting men. “Breed
Hunters.”

12 Lynn

Hagen

“Looks like it,” Freedman said between gritted teeth. The human

soldier turned right on the next side road ahead of them.

The pickup also turned right.
Everyone in the vehicle, with the exception of Freedman and

Dorian, was changeling. Rick was the most wanted man in America
and had numerous alleged charges against him. Freedman was
considered an enemy of the state when he killed the leader of the
Death Squad, Middleton, and then defected to the changeling side.

Mason was wanted for bombing a college in Georgia—which he

did not do—and he was being hunted down by a group of Breed
Hunters who were hired by his father.

And everyone in the truck was wanted for killing the infamous

Death Squad. Jayson, one of Rick’s former employees, had gotten
away when the battle had taken place, and Rick knew without a doubt
the little fucktard had told the proper authorities that Rick had
accomplices. Jayson may not know who everyone was in Rick’s
group, but if they were caught with Rick and Jayson identified them,
they were dead men.

Hell, they were already dead men, so it didn’t really matter, now

did it?

“They’re speeding up,” Freedman warned as his knuckles turned

white from gripping the steering wheel so hard.

Rick glanced in the mirror again to see Freedman was right. The

pickup was gaining speed, getting closer. “Arm up, ladies. It looks
like we’ll be fighting our way out of this one.”

The pickup moved into the opposing lane and pulled up next to

them. “Pull over,” the passenger shouted to them as he pointed to the
side of the road.

Sasha, who was sitting behind Freedman, rolled his window down

and shot the passenger in the pickup. The man slumped back into the
truck. Rick knew that there was no reasoning with Breed Hunters.
There was no talking their way out of this. When they found out Rick
and his group were changeling, it was over.

Rise to Submit

The Breed Hunters would kill them without hesitation and with no

mercy.

Freedman sped up, trying to outrun the pickup. Bullets could be

heard pinging off of the Excursion, but Freedman pressed on. Sasha
leaned out of one back window, Dorian out of the other, shooting at
the pickup when the blue truck got behind them. Rick rolled his
window all the way down and slid halfway out, praying a long
hanging branch didn’t knock him from the truck.

He had Freedman’s M-16 in his hands as he opened fire. He made

sure he was aiming over the roof of the truck so he didn’t hit his mate
who was right next to him. Mason, Benito, and Miguel had opened
the window on the back hatch and were emptying their rifles into the
pickup as well.

The pickup swerved, the front left tire exploding, and then the

blue truck careened down a small embankment. Rick slipped back
into the truck and settled in his seat. “We need to get ghost before
they call for backup.”

“I swear if I get shot one more fucking time, I’m going to blow

something up!” Omar shouted as the scent of blood filled the interior
of the truck.

Freedman hit the brakes, the ass end swerving as the truck came to

a halt. “Take over,” he said to Rick as he jumped out of the driver’s
seat and ran toward the back of the truck. Rick ran around the front
and hopped into the driver’s seat. As soon as Freedman climbed
inside, Rick took off.

“Sasha, stop the others from shifting,” Rick warned. Changelings,

no matter how good their intentions were, shifted when they smelled
blood. Their baser instinct was to hunt that which bled. It didn’t
matter if it was another changeling. Their instincts took over and
clouded their judgment.

He heard a loud yowl and then all fell silent. Sasha had given his

warning, and Rick was damn sure the others would listen. The man
might be a pain in the ass most days, but he wasn’t one to tussle with.

14 Lynn

Hagen

“It’s just a flesh wound,” Freedman called to Rick.
“Just a flesh wound!” Omar snapped indignantly.
Rick ignored them as he drove hard and fast, taking the back roads

and heading toward Colorado to hopefully help the tigers save the
weregeese in time.

Rise to Submit

Chapter Two

Pushing up from the ground, Ian swayed and had to use the

building to steady himself. He glanced around and saw that there was
nothing back here but a Dumpster, trash littering the ground, and a
homeless person slumped over at the end of the alley.

What in the hell was he supposed to do? He had nowhere to go

and not a stich of clothing to put on. The wind picked up, making him
shiver even harder. Ian wrapped his arms around his waist and
wondered how he was going to get out of this mess. As his mind
cleared some more, the small vampire’s words sank in.

Feeding frenzy.
Ian jumped when he heard a car backfire somewhere off in the

distance. It only reminded him that he needed to get away from the
club. But where could he go? He began to walk down the alley,
toward the main street. Ian really, really didn’t want to wander the
streets naked, but he didn’t have a choice. If he stayed around here,
Newman would find him.

The sad thing was, he couldn’t even get mad. Ian had brought all

of this on himself. There was no one to blame for what he was going
through but his own damn stupidity.

It was pitch dark out, and if Ian had to guess, around one in the

morning. The streets would be deserted this time of night, but Ian
didn’t want to take a chance on anyone seeing him without any
clothes on. If the cops arrested him, Ian knew he would be in a world
of trouble. He was Dorian Campbell’s brother. Dorian was on the top
of the most wanted list from what Newman had told him. They would
use Ian to find Dorian.

16 Lynn

Hagen

Ian couldn’t allow that to happen.
The drunk moved around a little and then looked up at Ian. His

pitiless eyes raked over Ian’s naked body as he began to sit up. Ian
backed away. They locked gazes and a lascivious gleam appeared in
the drunkard’s dark twin orbs. Ian knew the man did not have good
intentions.

“Street boy?” the man asked as he swayed to his feet. His voice

was rough and raspy, and there was a brown paper bag in his hand.
Ian guessed it contained a bottle of some kind of rotgut wine. “I
normally leave you fellas alone. But I must say, you are one fine-
looking piece of ass.” The man licked his lips. “How much?”

Ian backed up until his back pressed into the Dumpster. He

quickly tamped down the scream that nearly escaped when his
wounded back met cold metal. “I’m not a street boy.”

The man licked his lips again, showing a row of rotten teeth, and

Ian felt the bile rise to the back of his throat. Even if the man wasn’t
wearing clothes that looked as if they had never seen a washer, the
guy’s stench alone made Ian want to bend over and be sick.

Ian stumbled away. The frigid cold began to rack his body as he

searched for a doorway, a haven, something to get him out of the chill
and away from the club. But he couldn’t find anywhere to hide. There
wasn’t even an alcove he could crouch down in. Ian was so lost, so
afraid, and it didn’t seem like his situation was getting any better.

A sob tore from his chest, even though he knew he didn’t have a

right to cry. This was his fault. He hugged himself tighter as he gazed
at the open street and then back down the alley. He was going to have
to leave. He was going to have to walk the dark and deserted streets
naked, cold, and with nowhere to go.

“There you are.”
Ian looked behind him to see Newman standing in the club’s back

entrance. The red irises could be seen all the way down the alley
where Ian was standing. His lungs forgot to work. His heart was

Rise to Submit

racing so fast that Ian felt light-headed. He couldn’t let Newman take
him back.

He didn’t want to die.
Feeding frenzy.
Ian heard a door slam shut. He quickly looked to the street to see a

hulking man heading his way. His jade-green eyes were locked onto
Ian, and he wore a menacing snarl on his lips. Ian took a step back
until he remembered Newman.

Ian wasn’t sure which option was worse. The man coming toward

him was colossal. He had to weigh at least two hundred and fifty
pounds, and it was all muscle. Not even his sandy-blond hair helped
him look friendly.

Ian glanced back at Newman to see him walking his way. He was

stuck between a vampire, who wanted him dead, and a stranger who
wanted…Ian wasn’t sure, but from the dark and deadly expression on
the man’s face, it couldn’t be good.

Ian took off from the alley, running down the deserted street,

away from both men. But it wasn’t as deserted as he would have
wanted it to be. There was a couple walking toward him. The woman
looked at him and her eyes grew wide as the man grabbed her and
pulled her aside. Ian raced past them, running as fast as his feet could
carry him.

He heard tires screeching and knew the stranger was coming after

him. Ian glanced over his shoulder and then ran into a wall. He hit it
so hard he bounced backward and slammed into a trash can on the
curbside.

He could hear the vehicle coming to a halt and the door slammed

again. Ian pushed to his feet only to see Newman right in front of him.

It hadn’t been a wall.
Ian had run right into Newman.
“You can’t get away from me that easily.” He reached for Ian, but

the stranger appeared at Ian’s side. Ian backed away when the two
started fighting.

18 Lynn

Hagen

This was madness.
He was screwed, screwed, screwed.
Fuck.
There was nowhere for him to run. There was no place he could

go for safety. He was out on this street in the dead of night, running
from a vampire and some sort of pervert. The hulking man had to be a
pervert. Who else could he be? Ian didn’t recognize him. Being naked
on the street must have caught the man’s attention.

Ian was getting what he deserved and he knew it. If he had never

gone to that party so many years ago, he wouldn’t be in this mess
right now. Ian rushed down the sidewalk, quickly making his way to
who knew where, but it was in the opposite direction of the two
people after him.

His stomach was knotting with fear as he tried not to look back. If

he looked back, Ian just might scream.

This was a nightmare.
If his parents could see him now, his mother would cry until she

was old and grey, and his father would probably kick his ass until Ian
lay bloody and crumpled on the ground. His father had never raised a
hand to Ian before, but hell if this situation didn’t call for it.

Ian turned, unable to resist looking behind him.
The two were gone.
He slowed his racing feet, his eyes scanning the area. They did not

just disappear. Newman wouldn’t give up that easily. The vampire
was hell-bent on dragging Ian back to the club.

And then he saw the outline of red eyes coming toward him. Ian

spun around and slammed into a concrete trash can on the curbside.
He howled out as the pain shot through his knee. But Ian didn't have
time to shake it off. He had to keep moving. He tried to limp as fast as
he could, but he knew it wasn't going to be fast enough.

As he stumbled across the street, a red Yukon slammed on its

brakes right in front of him, the headlights blinding Ian.

Rise to Submit

The same stranger who had come after him by the alley got out of

the truck.

Ian turned to run, but the stranger grabbed him before he could get

away and shoved him in the back of the Yukon. Ian cried out when a
slim woman with short black hair and chartreuse eyes blazing with
anger grabbed him, pulling him inside. Ian fought to get free, but the
door slammed closed and seconds later they were hauling ass down
the street.

“Let me go!” he shouted as he tried to twist out of her arms. His

backside felt like the wounds were reopening as he flailed on the floor
of the truck.

“Settle the hell down, Ian,” she said as she pinned him to the floor

of the truck, only exacerbating the pain by a hundredfold. “Stop
fighting me or you’ll force me to knock you out.”

Ian was gasping for breath, his eyes flickering around wildly for a

way out. She was stronger than she looked. They were around the
same height, Ian having maybe an inch or two on her, but hell if she
didn’t have him immobilized. “Who are you?” he asked as he stopped
struggling. He was too tired, and struggling with her while he was
naked wasn’t the most comfortable thing he had done.

“We are friends of Dorian’s.”
Shame washed over Ian at the mention of his brother’s name.

Aside from his parents, Dorian was the one person on this planet that
Ian loved. Why would Dorian care enough to rescue him a second
time? He knew his brother looked at him as trash. Ian was a fang
addict and hung out at a BDSM club. How could Dorian not look at
him with contempt? “Are you taking me to him?”

The woman gazed down at him, and Ian saw pity and anger in her

eyes. “Are you going to run again?”

Ian turned his head, refusing to answer her. Hell yes he was going

to run the first chance he had. How did he know this woman was
telling the truth?

20 Lynn

Hagen

For all he knew, she could be someone out to find Dorian and

using Ian to get to his brother. He had been in the club for months,
and wasn’t sure what was going on in the world around him.

But Ian had heard snippets of things being said by the vampires.
Dorian was a highly sought man.
As he lay there, Ian began to shiver. His body was shaking so

badly that the woman grabbed a few blankets and tucked them around
his trembling body.

But that didn’t help. The shakes were getting worse. He was

beginning to think the shivering had nothing to do with being cold.

All of a sudden excruciating pain raced through his body like a

wildfire out of control, and Ian cried out in an agonizing expulsion of
breath. He whimpered, the pain too intense as his chest began to hurt
so badly that he curled into himself.

“Shit, Nate, something is wrong with him. Pull over!”

Rise to Submit

Chapter Three

Nate’s red Yukon drove into the empty parking lot, pulling up

right next to Mason’s truck. Mason got out and walked over to meet
them. He really didn’t like Nate. The man had one smart-ass mouth
on him, and Mason wasn’t the one to deal with that kind of crap.

“Did Rick tell you about Ian?” Selene asked as she jumped out of

the back. She turned, grabbing a bag and handing it off to Mason.

Mason had been sitting in his SUV, waiting on Nate and Selene to

meet him in southern Kansas. Mason and the rest of the crew had
already been through here, but Rick had sent him back to retrieve
Dorian’s brother.

“Just that I need to make sure he doesn’t run and to take care of

him.” Rick hadn’t given Mason a whole lot of details, but he had
asked Mason to make sure Ian didn’t run and to handle him with care.

He wasn’t really sure what that meant. But after Rick and Nate

had pulled his ass out of trouble in Georgia, it was the least he could
do.

Mason had wanted to bring Benito and Miguel along, but Rick

had said that the less people around Ian right now, the better. It made
Mason one curious man to know what was wrong with the guy.

Selene shook her head. “It goes way deeper than that. He crashed

when we first picked him up. I had to perform CPR on him. Do you
know how to do CPR, Mason?”

Mason nodded. “I took a course in college.” What did she mean

he crashed? Like…a heart attack? Oh, hell, Mason hadn’t signed up
for that shit.

22 Lynn

Hagen

But he couldn’t let Rick down, either. The man had allowed

Mason to stay in his Rebellion group. Mason had nowhere else to go,
so, he would deal with this.

“Good,” she said as she nodded in approval and stepped back.

Mason peered inside and had to look twice before he saw the frail
human lying under piles of blankets. The only thing Mason could see
was a head of wavy brown hair.

“Is he really that small?” Mason asked as he hiked the bag Selene

had given him over his shoulder.

“He is,” she replied as she inclined her head in a nod. “But don’t

let his small frame fool you. He’s pretty strong when he’s fighting to
get away.”

Mason took the bag Selene had given him to the SUV and tossed

it inside. He then opened the back of the truck and spread out the
blankets Rick had sent with him.

Mason hadn’t known what they were for at the time, but now he

saw the wisdom in sending them. He walked back over to the Yukon
and lifted the human from the back, amazed at how light he was. If
Mason didn’t know for a fact that a man was in there, he would have
sworn he was just carrying blankets.

Selene closed the back of the Yukon, her eyes softening as she

looked at the blankets in Mason’s arms. “Keep him warm. We wanted
to stop for clothes, but Rick made it clear we weren’t to stop until we
met up with you.”

Mason nodded as he gently laid the guy down in the back of his

truck. He grabbed some of the blankets he’d brought with him and
layered Ian. Once he had Ian tucked in, he closed the hatch.

“Keep an eye on him, cat,” Nate warned with an assessing scowl

that made Mason feel as if he didn’t measure up to the werewolf.
“He’s fucking quick.”

“Why is everyone going through the trouble of bringing this man

to Rick when it sounds like he doesn’t want to go?” Mason asked
Selene, ignoring the asshole standing by the driver’s door.

Rise to Submit

“He’s a fang addict, Mason. Rick should have told you that.”

Selene sounded irritated. “He also has a shitload of cuts and welts all
over his backside. There’s antiseptic cream and other things you
might need to keep the wounds clean in the bag I gave you. Thank
goodness we carry a medical kit with us in the Yukon at all times.”

Mason wanted to ask what in the hell happened to the human, but

he knew Rick wanted him back as fast as he could make it. “I’ll clean
him up by the time I get halfway back to Rick.”

“Good luck,” Selene said as she walked back toward the front of

the Yukon. Nate just glared at him, and Mason just flipped Nate off.
The man gave him a toothy smile that wasn’t meant to be pleasant.

Mason crawled back into the driver’s seat and adjusted his mirror

so he could see Ian if he popped up and tried to get free. From the
man’s state, Mason didn’t think he would be getting up anytime soon.

He pulled from the parking lot and headed back toward Colorado.

He had a long drive ahead of him and hoped the small human didn’t
give him any problems.

Mason made it about twenty miles before he saw flashing lights

ahead.

He could tell that the cops were conducting a checkpoint by the

way their cruiser was positioned.

Mason knew the cops of the smaller towns were enforcing martial

law. Normally martial law was used to enforce curfew and to try and
bring order back to chaos.

But Mason knew changelings were being widely hunted and the

cops at this checkpoint were sure to be using a BAT—blood
abnormality tests.

BATs were carried by every Breed Hunter, military personnel,

and law enforcement officer. They were small handheld devices that
resembled a glucose machine. One drop of blood and a small light on
the device would either turn red, for nonhuman, or green, for human.

It gave an on-the-spot reading.

24 Lynn

Hagen

The machines were first generation, and found to be faulty at

times. But the Breed Hunters killed regardless.

False positives were never retested by the Breed Hunters. The

human died as soon as the light turned red.

Mason leaned over and opened the glove box, retrieving the small

piece of synthetic skin that matched the color of his fingertips. Behind
the small application was a dollop of Dorian’s blood. Dorian was
human. The blood was encased in a tiny plastic bag that was sealed to
the synthetic piece.

Mason applied the piece to his index finger, praying the adhesive

bonded before he approached the cops. He pulled up to the flagging
officer and stopped the SUV, rolling his window down. “Evening,
Officer.”

The man tipped his hat in a friendly gesture, but Mason saw his

hand rest on the butt of his gun. “I need your driver’s license and
registration.”

Mason grabbed his wallet from the center console, pulling out the

fake ID Freedman had given him. He then reached up into the visor
and grabbed the totally fake registration and handed them both over
with a friendly smile.

“I’ll be right back,” the cop said as he walked the length of

Mason’s truck, using his flashlight to see inside. He paused at the
back, and Mason knew the cop spotted Ian. “You got company back
here?”

“Yeah,” Mason said from the window, sounding casual as he

waved toward the back. “My brother took the first half of driving and
was bushed. He crashed out in the back.” Mason held his breath as the
cop walked back toward the driver’s window. He could see the guy’s
partner walking toward them.

“I’ll need his ID as well.”
Mason dug out the fake ID Freedman had given him for Ian just in

case something like this happened. He handed it over. The cop
glanced at Ian’s ID and then nodded. “Anyone else in the truck?”

Rise to Submit

Mason shook his head as he gave the cop an easy smile. “Just me

and my brother.”

“Everything all right?” the cop’s partner called out.
Cold brown eyes stared at Mason for a moment, weighing him

carefully, and then the cop nodded. “Yeah, I need you to run these
licenses for me.”

His partner took them from the first cop, eyeing Mason before he

walked back to the cruiser.

To say Mason was a nervous wreck would be an understatement.

His father had made him attend college under an alias. Mason was
proud of being a jaguar changeling. His father was hiding in the closet
for fear of anyone finding out and taking his pharmaceutical company
from him. He hated that Mason wouldn’t deny their heritage, so he
had shipped his troublemaking son off under the assumed name
Mason Seattle.

But as soon as his father had tried to blow him up, Mason Seller

was known to the world as a suspect wanted for questioning in
connection with the bombing that took place at a Georgia college. At
first the authorities heading up the investigation had tried to keep
Mason’s name out of the papers—considering who his father was—
but it didn’t stay hidden for long.

If the cops figured out who he was, he was in deep shit. Mason

glanced at the name on the guy’s uniform. O’Malley. He watched
O’Malley pull the BAT from a case clipped to his utility belt. Mason
knew this was coming, but it didn’t stop his heart from speeding up.

“I need you to take a voluntary blood screening. Do you agree to

take the test?” The cop eyed him, waiting for Mason to refuse. He
knew that if he refused, his ass would be tossed into the back of the
police car.

O’Malley gave him a look that said he would willingly hurt

Mason if he had to. It wasn’t something Mason wanted to find out.
Because cop or no cop, Mason wasn’t going to let anyone hurt him.

26 Lynn

Hagen

He would kill the son of a bitch before he allowed the man to lay one
finger on him.

Mason held out his index finger, pad up. “Go right ahead, Officer.

Make sure you use a clean strip. I don’t want to catch anything.”

The cop chuckled, and Mason wanted to punch the man. “Don’t

worry. Everyone who has been tested on this baby so far has been
human.” And now Mason wanted to do more than punch the man. It
sickened him to see such prejudice.

The strip pierced the synthetic skin, moving it a minute fraction.

Mason held his breath, waiting for O’Malley to call his bluff, but the
man didn’t seem to notice. He was sitting there sweating bullets.
Being arrested was something Mason couldn’t allow to happen. If shit
went south, they were going to have one hell of a chase on the back
road.

The machine light came back red, and Mason damn near fainted.
“It seems your blood isn’t nor—” The machine beeped again, and

this time the tiny dot was green.

The cop smiled at him. “Damn machines. That’s the fourth time

that’s happened.”

“Do you need to check again?” Mason watched the man carefully,

using his heightened senses to let him know if the cop became
anything other than calm.

“No need.” The cop shook Mason’s hand and Mason prayed the

small piece of skin stayed in place. “I rechecked the others when it
did that, and they came back negative for abnormal blood. I think I
need to replace this machine.”

“Maybe,” Mason replied casually, goodnaturedly.
“I need to check your brother now.”
Oh, hell.
The man was out to screw up Mason’s already fucked-up night.

Mason slowly exited the truck and walked toward the back. The cop’s
hand automatically went back to resting on the butt of his gun as

Rise to Submit

Mason opened the hatch. His gut was twisting at the way O’Malley
was acting. A nervous cop was never a good thing.

“He sure is buried under there.” O’Malley said it playfully, but

Mason heard the suspicious tone. He grabbed Ian’s hand from under
the mounds of blankets, pulling it up for the cop.

“Let me see his face.”
Mason lowered Ian’s hand and pulled the blankets down enough

to expose only the man’s head. Ian groaned and then turned, his eyes
fluttering open. He lay there staring at Mason and then looked over at
the cop. His cobalt-blue eyes were stunning as fuck, but Mason could
have done without the wide-eyed look.

“Don’t worry, Marc. The cop just needs to check your blood.”

Mason moved so O’Malley couldn’t see his face and gave Ian a quick
wink.

Ian raised his hand, but his eyes never left Mason’s face. As the

cop tested Ian, Mason gazed over deep brown eyebrows, beautifully
thick lashes, and a pert little nose. Ian’s lips were full, nicely shaped,
and currently being sucked inside Ian’s mouth as he chewed on his
bottom lip. Mason wasn’t worried about the test. Ian was human.
What worried him was the fact that Ian was naked under the blankets.

There was no way in hell he could explain that away. Not when he

just claimed Ian was his brother.

“You boys are good to go,” O’Malley said with a relaxed smile.

His partner came back with their driver’s licenses and handed them to
O’Malley.

“They’re clean.”
Mason couldn’t take his eyes away from Ian. The man was so

damn cute he bordered on pretty. Ian’s scent, subtle and sweet, sent
pure silken hunger through Mason. He was stunned by his reaction.
He felt drawn to the man who lay there with big blue eyes still gazing
at him. Mason fought the urge to pull Ian up from the blankets and
into his arms. The sensation was alarming. Mason didn’t need this. He
couldn’t deal with this right now.

28 Lynn

Hagen

“Here you go.” O’Malley shoved the cards toward him,

sufficiently bringing Mason back to his senses. “Sorry about the
inconvenience. You fellas have a safe trip.”

Mason grabbed his and Ian’s ID and shoved them in his back

pocket.

“I’m gonna get some more sleep,” Ian said and pulled the blanket

tightly around his shoulders, still cautiously staring at Mason. He was
thankful that Ian had spoken up with his excuse so the man didn’t
have to get out from the back…naked.

And damn if he didn’t have a nice, soft voice. Mason curled his

fingers in when waves of deep brown hair fell over Ian’s eyes. He
wanted to brush those strands aside, to feel the texture between his
fingers. Mason turned from Ian. He had to. The man was drawing him
like no other ever had before.

O’Malley nodded and walked back to his car. Mason closed the

hatch and walked back up front, sliding into the driver’s seat. He
wanted to bolt from there, but had to seem like nothing in the world
was wrong. He also needed to regain his composure.

“Who are you?” Ian asked from the back of the truck. Mason

glanced in the rearview mirror as he pulled away, but didn’t see the
guy. He was still lying down.

“Mason. Rick sent me to get you.”
“Who?” Ian asked. “I don’t know any Rick.”
Mason was going to kill the werewolf alpha. The guy had sent

Mason in blind. “Dorian’s mate.”

“Dorian’s what?”
He was batting a thousand here. “Dorian is expecting you.”
“What happened to that big fella who chased me down?”
“That would be Nate. He had other shit to do, so Rick sent me to

meet him halfway.”

Ian grew quiet. Mason glanced in the mirror again to make sure

Ian wasn’t up and ready to bail on him. “You okay back there?”

“Just thinking.”

Rise to Submit

Mason had to stop himself from asking what Ian was thinking

about. His only job was to deliver Ian to Rick, not make cozy with
him. It wasn’t his job to analyze the man and find out what was wrong
with him. It didn’t matter that the human appealed to all of Mason’s
senses. It didn’t matter that Mason wanted to protect Ian from not
only the world, but from the addiction he had. No, it didn’t matter.
And Mason was going to keep it that way.

He was not in a position to care for anyone. He was on the run and

living with men on the most wanted list. They moved around so much
that some mornings Mason didn’t even remember where he was.
There was no room in his life for one small frail human who was
addicted to vampire bites.

So why did the thought of anyone putting their hands on Ian piss

him the fuck off? Mason needed to get his head together.

“I have to pee.”
Mason drove a little more until he spotted a dirt road off to his

right. He turned onto it to get out of the way of traffic and to give Ian
some semblance of privacy. “Do you need help getting out of the
back?” he asked.

“No,” Ian answered softly. “I can manage.”
Mason nodded as he got out of the truck and waited by the

driver’s door. Ian opened the hatch and stepped down. He had one of
the thin blankets wrapped around him. Mason watched him as Ian
walked toward the woods, and then the guy dropped the blanket and
took off running.

30 Lynn

Hagen

Chapter Four

Escape.
Run.
Go back to hell.
The low-hanging branches swatted at Ian’s face, stinging his

already cold flesh as he raced through the forest. The earth dug into
his bare feet, twigs and rocks scraping and cutting them. His lungs
were on fire, and Ian struggled to breathe through his terror as he ran
as fast as he could from the man coming after him.

A stranger.
He knew he didn’t have a chance in hell of getting away. Mason

was a changeling. His speed alone told Ian the truth. He was too large
of a man to run this fast, gaining on Ian with every step he took.

That thought only fueled his need to escape. He had heard rumors

around the club that Dorian was with a changeling.

Ian jumped over a fallen log and kept going, putting on a burst of

speed to escape the man chasing him down. He ducked around a tree
and took off in another direction.

Thinking of his brother only angered Ian.
He had woken up in a stranger’s house four months ago, his dear

brother dumping him off on some poor couple. Ian didn’t need a
changeling chasing him to return him to his older brother, and he
didn’t need Dorian’s charity.

He loved his brother dearly and hated that the man probably

looked at him like a perverted fuck, but he wasn’t about to be taken to
someone who obviously didn’t want him around.

Rise to Submit

Ian may have been royally screwing up his life—and still was

considering he was running through a forest naked. But he didn’t need
Dorian—or anyone else—feeling obligated to do a damn thing about
his situation.

As he skidded around a tree, Ian shouted, his hands flying out in

front of him. His foot had become snagged on an exposed root and he
was falling…until a large and strong hand caught him by his upper
arm, pulling him back to an upright position.

Ian stilled, immediately raising his hands above his head and

slamming his eyes closed. The man chasing him down was three
times Newman’s size in strength and lethality. Mason looked like he
could snap Ian with ease.

There was a primitive instinct in Ian to run or to fight, but he

knew neither choice would bode well for him. Mason could outrun
him and he sure as hell could beat Ian’s ass in a fight. So his only
choice was to stand very still and pray the man didn't have ill intent.

He listened, straining to hear what the guy was doing. The forest

sounds were all around him, but Ian couldn’t hear Mason moving.

A twig snapped.
Ian fought the urge to turn his head in the direction of the noise

even though instinct was trying to make him do just that. He had
learned the painful way not to move one muscle when in this position.
If he even twitched, Newman made him pay.

Ian could feel that Mason was at his back now. The heat of the

changeling seeped through Ian’s cold skin and into his bones, but it
didn't warm him.

Ian waited for Mason to speak, but the man said nothing. His

knees threatened to buckle when Mason moved in closer, and he
could hear a faint inhaling noise, like Mason was sniffing him. He
wanted to know what the man was doing, but was too terrified to ask.

“Why are you standing like this? What does it mean?” A breath

whispered past Ian’s ear, and he knew Mason was bending real close.

32 Lynn

Hagen

Ian tried his best to control his erratic pulse. His mind was racing

to come up with a reason he could give Mason, but Newman had
never given Ian one.

The vampire had just wanted Ian naked and standing like this

whenever he snapped his fingers or commanded him to do so like Ian
was a dog. He opened his mouth and then closed it, wondering what
Mason wanted him to say.

“Answer me.” The command was heavy with an animalistic

growl. Or was that just Ian’s imagination? Whatever it was, Ian was
quick to answer the command.

“I’m not sure, mast—Mason.”
He listened as Mason walked back around him. This time his steps

could be heard. They weren’t the silent ones that had Ian straining to
hear.

“Open your eyes.”
Ian lifted one eyelid, and then the other, staring directly at

Mason’s thick chest. The man was tall, broad. Ian’s head only reached
the man’s pecs. He curbed the instinctive urge to take a step back.
Even though Ian had opened his eyes, he still hadn’t moved a
muscle—which was an accomplishment considering it was cold as
hell out here.

“Lower your arms.”
Ian hesitated as he snapped his eyes up at Mason’s face and then

lowered them just as quickly. The guy was throwing him off. He was
speaking in low, even tones. Newman, or Calico for that matter, had
never spoken to Ian like he needed gentle care. But Mason’s tone
wasn’t harsh, wasn’t biting. He wasn’t sure how to react.

“Do I have to repeat myself?”
Ian lowered his arms, clasping his hands in front of him and

glancing down at the ground. He wasn’t sure what Mason was going
to do to him, but he prayed like hell the man didn’t want sex. Ian
knew he wouldn’t have a choice. The changeling was large enough
and muscled enough to take what he wanted.

Rise to Submit

He stood stock-still, staring at the moss-covered roots as he waited

for Mason’s next command. Ian had been going to the vampire
BDSM club since he was seventeen. For four years he was told what
he could and could not do while in the presence of a dominant male.
After learning the brutal way of not doing what was commanded,
Ian’s instincts were honed to obey.

That was why Ian had always made sure he made it home. Living

at the club full time was not something he wanted. But the addiction
had become too much, clawing at him as he sat alone in his bedroom,
fighting the need, fighting the call of his craving. Then after a while,
he stopped fighting it.

And then Calico had started playing scenes with Ian. At first they

were light, nothing deep, but the vampire had still barked out his
orders, expecting Ian to obey immediately.

“You are going to walk back to the truck, Ian. If you run again,

you won’t like the outcome.” The warning was enough to snap Ian’s
brain into action.

He pivoted on his heel, walking back the way he came, and then

he became confused. Ian had been running so quickly that he hadn’t
paid attention to which direction he had been going. He wasn’t really
sure where the truck was.

Ian was horrible at directions when it came to finding a place. He

had gotten lost so many times that it had become normal for Ian to
show up someplace late.

He stopped, glanced around, but saw nothing but trees and more

trees.

“Forget which way you came?” Mason asked as he stopped beside

him. His tone was inquisitive, not mocking.

Ian nodded.
“Then walk next to me, but remember my warning.”
The temptation to run was weighing heavy inside Ian, but he knew

Mason would only catch him again, and he didn’t want to find out

34 Lynn

Hagen

what type of punishment he would receive. His entire backside was
still healing from Newman.

Ian winced when he stepped on something sharp, but he kept

walking. He had no choice. His feet were bare and he had no shoes. It
was painful, but he had dealt with worse.

“We’re almost there,” Mason said coolly.
Ian nodded.
“Don’t talk much, do you?”
Ian shook his head. He started to say not unless he was given

permission to speak, but quickly trapped those words behind his lips.
The only people Ian found that he could act with a semblance of
normalcy around were his family.

He knew better than to let them see this side of him. They

wouldn’t understand Ian’s needs. He didn’t even fully understand
them. Calico and Newman had called him a perverted freak, but
enjoyed playing with him—and having those vampires continually
calling him that for four years, Ian had started to believe that
something was seriously wrong with him.

Mason let out a long sigh. “So tell me, Ian, why did you run?”
Ian shrugged.
“Damn it,” Mason said as he stopped walking and stood in front

of him. “I’m asking you questions. I expect answers, not head shakes
or shrugs.”

* * * *

Mason stilled when Ian just stood there, motionless, staring off

into space. His eyes were unfocused and he wasn’t moving a muscle.
He waved his hand in front of Ian’s face, but the guy didn’t even
blink. He had just zoned out. “Ian?”

Was this some sort of trick? If it was, what did the human hope to

accomplish? The only thing the man could do was run, and Mason
was standing right there in front of him. Ian would be a fool to try.

Rise to Submit

“Ian?” He snapped his fingers in Ian’s face.
Nothing. Statue-still. Unmoving.
Mason was becoming worried. The guy was just standing there,

staring off into space. He had never seen anything like it. It was as if
Ian’s body was there but his mind had left. Mason might even think
the man was asleep, but his eyes were open.

And then Ian dropped to the ground, floundering around. Just like

that. Mason cursed as he dropped to his knees and grabbed Ian, trying
to hold him down. This had to be a seizure. Mason had heard of them,
but had never witnessed one himself. Wasn’t he supposed to put
something in the guy’s mouth to stop him from biting off his tongue?

Mason pulled his and Ian’s ID cards out, the only thing he had on

him, shoving both cards between Ian’s lips. “Come on, stop seizing
on me,” he said, conscious that Ian couldn’t hear him.

Just as quickly as the attack had started, it stopped. Mason still

held on to him, watching the man closely, but took the cards from
Ian’s mouth. He shoved them back into his pocket and then reached
down and cupped Ian’s face. “You with me?”

Ian lay there, looking disoriented, focusing on nothing in

particular. “Hang on.” Mason scooped the man up and hurried to the
truck. He balanced Ian in his arms as he opened the hatch, setting Ian
down, and then crawled in with him. He grabbed blankets, wrapping
them around the man, cocooning him in as he cradled Ian in his lap.
As Ian lay dazed in his arms, Mason pulled his cell phone from his
hip holster. He dialed Rick.

“How close are you?” Rick asked after the third ring.
“I haven’t gotten twenty miles from the pickup point.”
The other end was silent for a brief moment. Mason looked down

at Ian. His eyes were closed as his head rested against Mason’s chest.

“Are you in some sort of trouble?” Rick finally asked.
“You could say that,” Mason replied without pause. “Ian just had

a seizure. Is that normal for him?”

36 Lynn

Hagen

Rick cursed. “I don’t know. Let me go ask Dorian, and then I’ll

call you back. Are you safe?”

Mason glanced around looking at the deserted road on either side

of him, and then he glanced at a corn field across the long stretch of
road. Thank fuck Ian hadn’t run into that maze. “I’m off the main
road.”

“Hang tight and I’ll call you back.”
Mason set the phone down next to him and tucked the blankets

tighter around Ian. He wanted to take the man to a hospital, but
Freedman had warned him that if the fake IDs were scrutinized hard
enough, they would fail.

Mason couldn’t chance that, but hell if he wasn’t pretty damn

worried right now. A human life lay in his hands and he hadn’t a clue
what to do.

He hadn’t signed up for this.
He was supposed to transport Ian to Rick and be done with it. He

wasn’t supposed to be sitting in the back of this truck cradling the guy
and praying that another seizure didn’t happen.

His cell rang and Mason quickly picked it up. “Well?”
“Dorian said it’s never happened before. Is he able to talk?”
Mason glanced down at Ian, but the man’s eyes were still closed.

“No, I think he’s asleep. Should I wake him?” Again, Mason had no
clue what to do.

“Just get him here as quickly as possible. Freedman has minimal

medic training, but says he can try to help.”

That didn’t set well with Mason. Minimal medical training was

basically checking the man’s pupils and reflexes. That wasn’t going to
do Ian a whole lot of good. But Mason’s hands were tied. He couldn’t
take Ian to a hospital. “I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

Mason hung up and then got out of the truck. He picked Ian up,

carrying him to the front seat. He wanted to keep an eye on the guy.
He strapped Ian in and then hurried to the driver’s side.

Rise to Submit

This shit was not cool. Mason hated feeling panicked. He hated

not feeling in control. Those were feelings he was not used to
handling. This was so far out of his realm of knowledge that Mason
wanted to quickly get Ian to Rick and be done with it.

But he still felt Ian should get better medical care. The guy had

had a seizure. Didn’t that mean anything to anyone? Mason grunted in
irritation as he started the truck and backed out of the road he was on,
heading in the direction he needed.

“Are we there?” Ian asked as he pulled the blankets down just

enough to see the road. His deep blue eyes were glancing at the road
sign as Mason passed it.

“It’ll be a few hours.” Mason was surprised that Ian was coherent

enough to talk. “Are you comfortable sitting there with the injuries on
your backside?” Mason wanted to make sure Ian wasn’t in any pain. It
was a long ride to where they were going.

Ian shrugged and then glanced over at him, and Mason could see

that slip of uncertainty creeping back into the man’s eyes. The look
made Mason think that Ian was trying to figure him out, but he wasn’t
sure. The expression wasn’t fully developed, as if Ian was trying to
hide the fact that he was puzzled.

He reached up and turned the radio on, scanning the stations until

he found some light jazz to listen to. It was something he liked to
relax to once in a while, and right now, Ian could use something easy
to listen to. Hopefully it would relax him enough not to seize again.

The tune was lulling, helping Mason to settle his nerves after the

scene with the cop and then Ian’s seizure. He wasn’t sure if he could
handle much more excitement today.

“What is that?” Ian asked.
“What, jazz?”
Ian shook his head. “No, I know what jazz is. They play the stuff

in the doctor’s office. I mean the melody.”

“Chris Botti. The song is called ‘Ever Since We Met.’” He was

one of Mason’s favorite artists. In Mason’s opinion, the guy was a

38 Lynn

Hagen

genius on the trumpet. And it didn’t hurt that he thought the guy was
stunning in looks.

“I like it.” Ian settled deeper into the seat as the smooth music

filled the truck and provided a tranquil atmosphere.

“Have you ever had a seizure before?” Mason had sensed Ian

slowly slipping into calmness and decided now was a good time to
bring up the subject.

“Once or twice,” Ian answered as if he really didn’t want to talk

about it.

“Do you have any idea what brings them on?”
Ian turned his gaze toward Mason and then pulled the blanket

tight to his body. “I’m tired.”

He let the subject go by the wayside for now. Mason was pretty

sure Ian would be questioned once they were back at the safe house.
He knew he needed to tell Freedman this hadn’t been Ian’s first time.
Mason still didn’t like that the human couldn’t see a doctor, but he
knew the reason Rick was being reluctant.

Mason glanced at Ian’s absolute stillness and knew it for a lie. He

could scent the fear coming from the small human. Ian was terrified to
be with Mason, or maybe it was going back to his brother.

Whatever the case, the scent insulted his jaguar and made it want

to protect Ian with fierceness, and that thought terrified Mason to his
soul.

Rise to Submit

Chapter Five

Rick met Mason in the driveway of the home that was being lent

to them by one of the weretigers. They finally made it to
Breckenridge, Colorado, but the tigers had taken care of the
changeling mercenaries that had been going after the weregeese.

Dorian had paced their bedroom nonstop when he learned Ian had

a seizure. His mate was going out of his mind with worry.

“How is he?” Rick asked when Mason got out the truck.
“He hasn’t seized anymore, but he has slept most of the way.”

Mason came around the truck and opened the passenger door. Rick
spotted Ian. He was even smaller than Rick remembered him. The guy
had lost some serious weight.

Dorian’s brother looked so fragile, so helpless that Rick’s heart

went out to him.

“I stopped once to take care of the wounds on his backside.”

Mason lifted Ian from the seat with surprising gentleness and wrapped
the blanket tighter around the human’s body. Rick tried to take Ian
from Mason, but the jaguar changeling skirted around Rick and made
his way to the back of the house.

“What wounds on his back?” Rick asked as he followed. Nate

hadn’t told him about any wounds, and Mason hadn’t mentioned
anything either when he called to tell Rick about the seizure.

Mason stopped on the back porch and turned toward Rick. His

face held so much anger. His words were heated and filled with
outrage. “I’m not sure what’s going on with him besides being a fang
addict, but someone has seriously abused this guy. He’s fucking

40 Lynn

Hagen

naked and has whip marks from nape to ankles. Some are old, some
are fairly fresh, but healing.”

“Let’s talk inside,” Rick said as he waved a hand toward the door.

“I had a room set up for him upstairs. Take him up there. Freedman
will be in to look at him.”

“He needs a doctor, Rick. A real doctor. You should have seen

him. He was just standing there, staring off into space, and then he
dropped and started seizing. That isn’t normal.” The werejaguar’s
words were biting, demanding.

“Take him upstairs, Mason. You were asked to pick him up and

bring him here. Your job is done.” His words were staccato, perfectly
enunciated. Rick was not about to stand here and be dressed down by
Mason. The man was looking at Rick like it was his fault that this
happened to Ian, and that just pissed him off. “If you don’t like the
way I’m running things or the decisions I make, you are free to leave
at any time.”

Rick noticed Mason’s hands gripping around Ian tighter. “I’m just

saying he needs to be seen by a professional.” Mason’s tone had lost
its edge, softening, the aggressiveness toning down, but his eyes were
still twin blazes of blue fire. “He’s sick.”

Rick folded his arms over his chest, leaning against the railing. “I

know, Mason.” Rick’s tone had gentled as well. “But as much as I
want to make sure he is properly taken care of, we are in a fucked-up
situation. If Ian goes to any hospital and they find out he’s Dorian’s
brother, the shit will hit the fan. Ian won’t be safe. I’m not trying to be
a bastard here, but I have to look at the big picture. I have to think
three or four moves ahead. That’s the only way we are going to stay
safe and accomplish what we’ve set out to do.”

Mason nodded and opened the back door, heading inside. The guy

was being very overprotective of Ian. Rick had a feeling it was more
than just concern for the small human’s health. He walked inside and
went in search of Freedman. The soldier had minimal medical
training, but at least he could check Ian over. It rattled Rick that he

Rise to Submit

couldn’t send Ian to the hospital, but again, Ian wouldn’t be safe if
Rick did.

He found Freedman in the living room, watching Omar look over

the expansive bookshelves that ran along one whole wall. Rick stood
there for a moment, watching Freedman’s facial expression.

The man looked…enamored.
Even though Omar had been one of Rick’s candidates, and Rick

had chosen Dorian, that didn’t mean he didn’t care about Omar. He
knew Omar’s homelife wasn’t warm and happy as most changelings’
lives were. Omar’s parents were scholars—just as Omar was—and
treated him with aloofness. They didn’t coddle or give their son the
affection and touch changelings craved. They demanded he be the
best, and Rick knew Omar made up for the lack of affection in books.

The man lost himself in them.
But the small werewolf deserved someone who would understand

him and treat him right. Omar was stunning in looks with his short
blond hair and pale blue eyes. Rick still thought the man belonged on
a runway in Milan.

Whoever mated Omar would be one lucky man. Of course, they

would also have to get past Omar’s obsessive need to talk. But since
joining Rick, he had noticed the trait had withered away.

Freedman’s eyes snapped over to Rick.
“Ian is here. Mason took him upstairs.”
Freedman gave a tight nod as he left the living room, giving one

last glance to Omar.

Rick wasn’t sure if Freedman knew that Omar didn’t really care

for humans. Then he wondered if Freedman knew and just didn’t care.
It would be one hell of a thing to watch Freedman woo Omar.

Rick watched the blond werewolf grab a book from the shelf and

take a seat. He sighed as he spun on his heel and walked out. He
really hoped Omar found love.

Climbing the steps, Rick was met on the top landing by his mate.

42 Lynn

Hagen

“Ian is here.” He followed Rick to the bedroom he had set up for

Dorian’s younger brother.

“I know, gatito. We are going to try and do everything we can to

help him.” Rick knew Dorian was worried sick about Ian, but the man
also didn’t understand Ian. Dorian couldn’t grasp his brother’s
submissive nature, nor could he understand that Ian wasn’t a bad man
just because he was an addict.

He knew having Dorian spend time around his brother just might

better his understanding.

Or they could try and kill each other.
“Thank you,” Dorian replied as he walked into the bedroom

behind Rick. Mason was rolling Ian to his back, removing the
blankets with grim determination setting his jaw firm. His hands
moved gently, and Rick knew Mason was trying to minimize the pain
of Ian’s wounds.

“Jesus,” Dorian whispered. “Who did that—did the vampires do

that to him?”

“Nobody knows for sure,” Mason answered without taking his

eyes away from his task. “But we need to get them cleaned and
treated. I did what I could on the road, but he needs to have them
irrigated and properly tended.”

“And his seizure?” Dorian asked, but didn’t move any closer to

the bed. He just stood there, gazing at Ian’s back with a mixture of
pity and repulsion on his face.

“Ian told me that it wasn’t his first attack.” Mason stepped aside,

allowing Freedman to move closer to examine the small human.

“But”—Dorian snapped his head up to Rick—“he’s never had a

seizure before.”

“Apparently he has had a few since we last saw him, gatito.”
“How will they affect him?” Dorian glanced at Ian once more, and

Rick could see the worry in his mate’s Peruvian-brown eyes. He
could also scent the sadness enveloping his mate. “Will his mental
state deteriorate?”

Rise to Submit

Rick slid his arm over Dorian’s shoulder, nudging his mate closer,

kissing his temple. “I’m not sure. But whatever happens, we’ll take
care of him. He’s family,” he said gently against Dorian’s hair,
wishing he could give his mate the answers he seemed desperate to
have.

“But even if we take care of him”—Dorian pulled away from

Rick, his eyes turning dark—“that still won’t stop him from his
perversions.”

“They’re not perversions,” Mason snapped from the side of the

bed.

“What do you know?” Dorian asked in a clipped tone. “You don’t

even know him.”

Mason’s eyes flickered down to Ian, his jaw setting. “No, I don’t.

But I’m beginning to understand him.”

“What’s there to understand?” Dorian argued. “He’s addicted to

vampires biting him and he likes to get beaten up. How in the hell can
anyone understand that?”

“Take this discussion elsewhere,” Freedman said evenly, but with

force. “Right now Ian needs rest and time to heal. He doesn’t need to
wake up hearing what his brother thinks of him.”

“Maybe he does,” Dorian shot back. “Maybe he needs to know

this”—he waved a hand at Ian’s prone body—“isn’t normal.”

Freedman gazed at Rick for help. Mason just stood there staring at

Dorian with anger-filled eyes. Rick would do anything to protect his
mate, to defend him in any matter, but Freedman was right. Dorian
shouldn’t be in here right now.

“Let’s go, gatito. We’ll debate the moral standing of this situation

later.” Much later if Rick could help it.

Dorian glanced at each of them and turned, storming from the

room. Rick watched him go and wondered how he was going to help
his mate in this delicate situation.

“Mason,” Rick said as he walked toward the bedroom door, “can

you look after Ian while he heals?” He would have asked Freedman,

44 Lynn

Hagen

but for one, he needed Freedman. Rick, Sasha, and the human soldier
had plans to make.

Two, it seemed Mason wasn’t leaving Ian’s side. He had a feeling

Mason would be the perfect caretaker.

“Yeah.” Mason nodded. “I got it.”
Rick left to find his mate. He knew Dorian wasn’t a close-minded

person, but this situation involved his younger brother and he knew
Dorian was having a hard time coming to grips with what was going
on.

But if Dorian didn’t to try and at least open his mind to what Ian

was going through, he was going to lose his brother.

Rick found Dorian in their bedroom, staring out of the window.

His hands were clasped behind his back, his eyes focused on whatever
was outside.

He moved closer, pulling Dorian into his arms. His mate was stiff

at first, but then he wrapped his arms around Rick’s waist, holding on
to him tightly. “I love him, Rick. But I can’t comprehend why he likes
being beaten.”

Tilting his mate’s head back, Rick stared down into his gorgeous

eyes. “It will take time. Trust me. Just because you don’t understand
him, doesn’t make him a bad person.”

Dorian looked as if he were truly struggling with what Rick had

just said. He cupped both sides of Dorian’s face, giving him a gentle
smile. “Just don’t be too hard on him.”

Sighing, Dorian pulled from Rick’s hand and rested his head

against Rick’s chest. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all anyone can ask.” Rick ran his hand over Dorian’s

head, hoping that he and his brother could work out their problems.
Ian was going through enough and Rick knew how much Dorian
loved his brother.

Hell, he had shot a vampire and went up against a master vampire

to rescue Ian.

Dorian just had a problem understanding what Ian needed.

Rise to Submit

His mate ran his hands up Rick’s sides, tilting his head back and

giving him a knowing look. It was a look Rick was all too familiar
with now.

Rick bent his head and grazed his lips over his mate’s, inhaling his

woodsy scent. Rick kissed him without warning, taking his time with
those full, bitable lips that always managed to drive him crazy.

When Dorian tried to pull back, Rick grabbed him by the nape of

his neck and held him in place. Dorian glanced up at him, his eyes
filled with hesitancy.

“Give yourself to me, gatito. Don’t pull away.”
Dorian gave a slight nod, pushing back into Rick’s arms. He

gathered Dorian to him, pulling the man up into his arms.

His mate smiled, wrapping his legs around Rick’s waist as Rick

walked them to the bed. Once he had Dorian on his back, Rick
devoured Dorian’s lips, tasting, teasing, and drinking in Dorian’s
unique flavor.

“God, I need you,” Dorian said as he pulled back from the kiss,

yanking on the end of Rick’s shirt.

Rick leaned back and pulled his shirt over his head, letting it fall

to the floor as Dorian removed his. His body felt like it was on fire
when their bare chests smoothed against each other.

“It feels like forever since I had you,” Rick said as he unsnapped

Dorian’s pants and slid them down his mate’s body. His mouth
watered when he saw how hard Dorian’s cock was.

Leaning forward, Rick mouthed his mate through his underwear.

Dorian groaned and bucked, pushing his fabric-covered shaft further
into Rick’s mouth.

Rick grinned, bit down with just a small bit of force, and then

shoved his fingers in the waistband, relieving his mate of his clothing.

“Please tell me you plan on sucking my cock,” Dorian said as he

writhed on the bed.

Rick slipped from the bed, shoving his jeans from his body. “I

plan on sucking and fucking you.” Rick felt his heart race when

46 Lynn

Hagen

Dorian palmed his cock, giving it a nice stroking as his eyes raked
over Rick’s body.

Climbing back onto the bed, Rick braced his hands on either side

of Dorian’s head, gazing down his mate’s slim and sexy body. He
licked his lips, his mouth actually aching to suck Dorian off.

“What are you waiting on?”
Rick raised his head, staring right at his mate. “I just wanted to

take a moment to appreciate what fate has given me.”

Dorian blushed, which was so rare for the man that Rick could

only smile. But it was the stark truth. Dorian was breathtakingly
beautiful in his eyes. No man could hold a candle to his mate.

Dorian’s eyes turned to liquid night as he slowly moved down his

mate’s body, drinking in the man’s skin with his lips. He kissed his
way down, feeling his mate slightly tremble with every touch, every
kiss, and every nip.

Glancing up, Rick saw that Dorian’s eyes had fluttered closed, his

lips slightly parting as his chest began to rise and fall in small pants.
Using his tongue, Rick teased the flesh around his mate’s navel,
feeling the muscles in Dorian’s stomach quiver.

The flat planes felt smooth under Rick’s tongue as he traced the

small freckles his mate had dotting his flesh.

Dorian groaned, lifting his hips as his hands raked through Rick’s

hair, giving the strands a slight tug.

Dorian’s eyes flashed open and they looked like smoldering

flames of dark copper. Rick sucked in his breath at the beauty his
mate presented and then swiftly engulfed the man’s cock. The taste of
pre-cum exploded on Rick’s tongue and he became ravenous. He
swallowed Dorian’s cock to the root, using his tongue to trace the
veins as he reached up and massaged his mate’s sac.

The heels of Dorian’s feet pressed into Rick’s back, his mate’s

hips gyrating as Rick sucked the hard cock in and out of his mouth.
Slipping a finger inside his mouth, Rick used his saliva to soak the
digit before easing it into Dorian’s ass.

Rise to Submit

His mate jerked, pulling harder at Rick’s hair. Dorian’s length

pistoned inside Rick’s mouth, fucking it hard as Rick stretched the
man’s ass, readying it for his cock.

Dorian’s back bowed as he damn near ripped Rick’s hair out, hot

cum shooting to the back of Rick’s throat. He licked and sucked until
he had consumed every drop, and then he removed his fingers from
Dorian’s ass.

Rick slid his fingers over Dorian’s thighs and then pushed them

back before spearing his mate’s ass.

“What have I told you about doing that!” Dorian shouted.
Rick chuckled. “Just keeping you on your toes.”
Dorian glared at him, but the expression soon turned to desire as

Rick began to move inside his mate. He thrust deep and long,
watching the place where his cock stretched his mate’s ass. It was
such a beautiful sight. One he would never tire of.

Grabbing Dorian’s legs, Rick tossed them over his shoulders as he

scooted the man closer, driving his cock deeper.

“Oh, hell,” Dorian cried out as his hands scrambled to grab the

blankets.

Rick bit his bottom lip as he grabbed Dorian’s hips and began to

pound into his mate’s tight ass. Dorian tossed his head back, moaning
loud and long.

The sound set Rick’s blood to racing. He loved seeing Dorian in

the throes of passion. The man was stunning as hell.

Dorian grabbed his bobbing cock, jacking it quickly as the man’s

balls drew close to his body. Rick was close as well. Feeling his
mate’s tight ass around his cock was throwing him closer and closer
toward the edge.

Rick watched in fascination as Dorian’s cock exploded once

more, but this time his pearly-white seed landed on his chest and chin.
The scent of his mate’s release filled Rick’s lungs, making his canines
elongate.

He wanted to bite.

48 Lynn

Hagen

He wanted to claim.
Leaning down, Rick sank his teeth into Dorian’s shoulder as his

body exploded in orgasm. Thrusting his hips harder, Rick release
Dorian’s flesh, feeling his body grow tired.

Dorian reached up and ran his hands through Rick’s sweat-soaked

hair, smiling at him. “Thanks for trying to make me forget.”

Rick nuzzled into Dorian’s hand, kissing the palm. “I love you,

gatito, and would protect you with my life. But you have to give Ian a
break.”

Dorian’s hand slid free as he swallowed. “Again, I’ll try.”

Rise to Submit

Chapter Six

Ian lay perfectly still as the man introduced to him as Freedman

finished cleaning his wounded back. His hands were tucked under his
head, his eyes wandering over the room until he spotted Mason
standing off to the side, watching. “I thought you were bringing me to
Dorian?” Ian asked Mason, his eyes taking in the man’s large and
muscular form.

He caught the quick glance Mason gave Freedman before he

nodded. “I did. He’s downstairs with Rick.”

Ian may be a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. Dorian

didn’t want to see him. It was clear on Mason’s face that Dorian had
said something about Ian. What did he care? He knew months ago his
brother didn’t want him around. Hadn’t the man dumped him on
strangers?

He loved Dorian to death, but Ian didn’t need his brother’s

censure right now. He could stay away.

“Every wound is cleaned and treated.” Freedman took his latex

gloves off and tossed them aside. “I need you to stay on your stomach
until the injuries are healed. You don’t need them reopening.”

The was the last thing Ian wanted. He hated Newman with every

breath he took for placing them on his backside in the first place. The
man was evil incarnate, but Ian had allowed the abuse in order to get
his fix.

He pushed the thought aside as he studied Mason. The man was

handsome. Ian would admit that much. There was just something
about him that had him gazing openly at the man. When Mason

50 Lynn

Hagen

turned his eyes toward Ian, studying him just as intently, he didn't
look away.

Normally, Ian wouldn’t dare ogle a dominant male in such a

manner, but for the life of him, Ian couldn’t rip his eyes away. It was
as if Mason’s strength was calling to him.

Blue eyes locked together, Mason staring at Ian as if he wanted

something, or if he wanted to ask something. Ian wasn’t sure, but he
felt his heart beating a little faster at the way Mason’s eyes seemed to
have the same inherent strength as his body.

“What about antibiotics for infection?” Mason asked as he broke

the eye contact and looked over at Freedman.

Ian felt the loss immediately and looked up at Freedman. He

hadn't considered infection. The thought scared Ian as he waited for
Freedman to answer.

“Those are going to be hard to come by.” Freedman gave Ian a

hard stare. “What were you injured with? That will tell me if we need
to hunt down antibiotics or not.”

Ian turned his head away, remembering what Newman had used

as shame washed over him. There was no way he was going to tell
anyone the depravities he had lived through. He may be attracted to
Mason, but sharing what had happened to him was not an option. “I
don’t need the antibiotics.”

He wished they would hurry up and leave him alone. It was bad

enough they were treating his wounds. Ian didn’t want them prying
into things he himself would rather forget about. Not only did he not
want these people to know what he had allowed the vampires to do to
him, but just thinking about Newman made Ian’s stomach cramp.

Mason moved closer to the bed, a hard gleam in his eyes. “Leave

us, Freedman.”

Ian wanted to ask why Mason was telling the man to leave, but

kept his question to himself. He didn’t want Mason to stay. Ian
wanted both men to leave.

Rise to Submit

Freedman backed away from the bed, giving Mason a nod. “I’ll be

downstairs.”

Ian listened as Freedman exited the bedroom and closed the door

behind him.

“What did you get beaten with?” Mason’s tone brooked no

argument.

The impulse that was buried deep down inside of him to obey a

dominant male was humming to life, almost making Ian turn and
answer Mason. The need was strong, but his shame was stronger.

Ian ignored him.
A piece of furniture scraped across the floor. Ian assumed it was

the chair he had seen sitting close to the window. “I’m changeling,
Ian. I can smell your emotions. Do I need to spell out what you are
feeling right now?”

Ian turned his head and raked his eyes over Mason. The man was

sitting next to the bed in the chair Ian had guessed Mason dragged
close. “What are you, a damn head shrink? I don’t need you to tell me
what I’m feeling”—Ian turned his head back around and settled it on
his crossed arms—“trust me, I already know.”

“For all intents and purposes, Freedman is your doctor. Hiding

things from him will only hurt you. He can’t treat you properly if he
doesn’t know what’s going on.” The man’s tone was measured,
spoken with command. Ian once again had to force himself not to
immediately give Mason what he wanted.

“Then why are you here? Do you get your rocks off from hearing

how someone was beaten?” Ian normally didn’t speak so boldly to a
man who looked like he could kill him without breaking a sweat, but
Mason wasn’t Newman. Ian didn’t have to obey him. Ian didn’t have
to obey anyone now that he was free from the club.

His stomach cramped harder.
“Why won’t you just go away?” Ian’s back molars gnashed

together as he fought the pain building inside of him. It felt like a web

52 Lynn

Hagen

of talons embedding each claw into Ian’s nerve endings, scraping,
pulling, and cutting until he wanted to cry out and beg for it to stop.

But Ian remained silent.
“Because I’ve become your caretaker,” Mason stated firmly.
Ian turned his head, glaring at Mason. “I wasn’t aware I was in a

prison. What, is Rick afraid I’ll corrupt Dorian and take him with
me?”

Mason shrugged as he relaxed back in his chair. It irritated the hell

out of Ian to see Mason so nonchalant about what he was going
through. “Think what you want. I’m not going to sit here and debate
the issue with you. All I’m saying is you should trust Freedman if no
one else. He is medically treating you, after all.”

“Fine, send him in. But you don’t get to stay while he’s in here.”

Ian watched Mason get up and walk out. He lifted his head, looking
around the room. There was only one window in here, and from what
he could see from the bed, the drop could break something, or worse.

Freedman came in and closed the door behind him.
They weren’t leaving him alone for five seconds. It was beginning

to feel like he really was in a prison.

Or back at the club. Ian didn't need to feel trapped. It only made

his chest hurt worse knowing he couldn’t walk out of here without
someone stopping him.

“Mason says you are ready to talk to me.”

* * * *

Mason glanced up when Rick walked into the kitchen and nodded.

That was his cue to go back upstairs. Mason took the steps two at a
time, coming to a stop at the bedroom door just as Freedman walked
out. The human looked grim as he closed the door behind him.

“Well?” Mason asked.

Rise to Submit

Freedman’s light-blue eyes flickered over to him. “I can’t tell you

what we talked about, Mason. You know that. You knew that when
you sent me in there.”

Mason did, but he didn’t like the strained look on Freedman’s

face. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, biting back the
command for Freedman to tell him what had happened to the man he
had a strange fascination with.

“No, I know.” Mason gave Freedman an appreciative smile before

the human walked away. Blowing out a long breath, Mason entered
the bedroom. His eyes immediately zeroed in on Ian trying to crawl
out of the bedroom window.

Mason hurried across the room, using his changeling speed to

reach Ian before he leapt. He grabbed the man and pulled him back
in—Ian fighting him the entire time, smacking, clawing, biting, and
screaming to the top of his lungs.

The bedroom door flew open, Rick, Sasha, and the two juveniles

standing there looking murderous.

“We’re cool,” Mason barked out as he grabbed Ian’s arms and

secured them at his sides with his own arms. He held on tightly as Ian
kicked and struggled to get free. “He just tried to take a stroll outside
through the window.”

“But that’s a twenty-foot drop,” Rick said. “You would have

broken your neck.”

“What the fuck do you care?” Ian wiggled, trying to get his arms

free. “I want to go. You can’t keep me here!”

“So you can do what?” Mason growled into his ear. “So you can

go get another fix, another bite? I don’t think so.”

Ian smacked the back of his head into Mason’s chest and

screamed at the top of his lungs once more. Mason held on, not in a
bruising way, but enough to make sure Ian didn’t hurt himself.

Mason was out of his depth. He had no clue what to do with the

out-of-control human. Never before had he fought so hard to stop

54 Lynn

Hagen

someone from hurting himself. And Ian leaving to get high was
hurting himself in the worst sort of way.

Ian was grasping Mason’s arms with his fingers, breaking skin,

digging his nails in deep. Mason ground his teeth, ignoring the pain,
pushing it aside and telling his jaguar that Ian wasn’t trying to harm
them. His changeling beast was snarling, but Mason beat him back.

“Get me something to restrain him,” Mason finally said when he

saw that Ian wasn’t calming down, but gearing up.

Benito came back with some neckties. “It’s all I could find.”
Mason walked to the bed with Ian still secured in his arms. He

pressed forward, keeping just enough weight on the smaller man, but
keeping in mind his changeling strength. He pulled one arm from
under Ian, and then the other, using his chest to hold the man down.

Ian tried to use his freed arms to swing back at Mason, but Mason

grabbed them, pulling them behind Ian. He was careful of the cuts,
but saw a few had opened…bleeding. “Get everyone out of here!”

The scent of blood called to the baser instincts of changelings.

Mason knew he had trouble on his hands even before he saw Benito
stiffen next to him, the werewolf’s canines elongating as he began to
pant heavily and scent the air. Miguel, his cousin, was next to him in
seconds, his dark-blue eyes shifting into his werewolf eyes. Shards of
yellow appeared as they began to glow.

“Freedman!” Mason quickly tied off Ian’s hands, binding them

behind him before Mason stood and growled at the two juveniles,
warning them to stay back.

Sasha and Rick were in the doorway unmoving, their eyes shifted,

but they retained their human form. And Mason could only thank the
powers that be for their control. He had enough trouble keeping a hold
of Ian without having to fight off a couple of blood-hungry
changelings.

Ian was a weak male. He was what changeling would consider the

easiest of prey. Mason was fighting the need to lick Ian’s wounds
clean before biting him. He fought it with every single breath he took.

Rise to Submit

But he wouldn’t be able to fight it for much longer if the others
shifted.

Freedman appeared in the doorway and snapped his eyes between

the men standing there. Benito and Miguel were shifting, tiny hairs of
fur sprouting as they moved closer to Ian.

“Please don’t make me hurt you.” Mason growled out his

warning. “Back the fuck up!”

Benito blinked a few times before looking up at Mason. It was as

if he was struggling to understand what Mason was saying. “But he
smells so good.”

Rick moved into the room, licking his lips as he grabbed both

juveniles, pulling them back. “Come on, men. We have to go.”

“What’s going on?” Freedman asked, clearly confused.
“Stop him from bleeding,” Mason demanded as he stood there,

guarding Ian until the others finally left the room. Sasha glanced at
Mason, and then at Ian. The hunger cleared in his kelly-green eyes
before he curled his hands into fists and backed away.

Freedman slammed the door closed.
Mason’s body was humming, the adrenaline coursing through

him. His jaguar was primed as it thought it was about to chase its prey
down. He walked backward to the window and then dipped down,
sticking his head out and inhaling the fresh, crisp winter air.

The sweet scent of Ian’s blood cleared from his mouth, throat, and

then finally his lungs.

“You guys didn’t go through this when Omar was shot in the

truck,” Freedman pointed out as he quickly cleaned Ian’s wounds.
The smaller human was still struggling on the bed, unaware of what
had just taken place, how close he had come to a feeding frenzy. It
scared Mason, terrified him how dangerously close he had come to
losing control.

“It all depends on the prey. How sweet the scent of their blood is,

how wounded they are, and their strength, or lack of. Omar may have

56 Lynn

Hagen

been wounded, but he is stronger than he lets on. Our beasts scented
Ian’s total weakness, his omega place in this small group.”

“What about Dorian?” Freedman asked as he tried to work around

Ian bucking and kicking.

“He’s mated to an alpha. To attack Dorian would be to challenge

Rick. It’s an intricate web of many factors.”

“So basically, you all almost lost control because Ian is helpless.”
Mason nodded as he pulled back inside the window, but stayed

close to the opening just in case the smell began to overwhelm him
once more. His heightened senses enabled him to scent even a minute
drop of blood, making the smell ten times stronger, more potent.

“I need to secure his legs.” Freeman jumped out of the way when

Ian kicked back.

“No,” Mason said. “I’ll do it.” He pulled in a lungful of fresh air

before going over to the bed and grabbing the discarded neckties on
the floor. He grabbed Ian’s legs, stopping the man from smacking him
with his feet before wrapping the ties around Ian’s ankles. The man
was securely bound on the bed now.

A hunger that Mason had never felt before began to surface as he

stared at Ian’s bound form. He looked incredible despite the injuries
on his body.

Mason just stood there staring at the helpless man. Dark desires

began to fill his mind, images of things he knew he could never do to
Ian. The man had been too abused. Mason had to push those thoughts
aside.

Ian was broken and there was no way Mason would take

advantage of that fact. But there was no denying the feelings building
up inside of him to totally dominate Ian. To make him submit to
Mason’s will.

The man was securely bound on the bed. Freedman immediately

began to finish his work, sealing up the reopened wounds with a thick
cream, not only stopping the bleeding, but covering them under a
heavy layer of the white substance.

Rise to Submit

“Am I okay to leave you with him or should I make you leave?”

Freedman asked as he set the small tube aside and wiped his hands on
his shirt.

Mason turned his head toward Freedman and had to think about

what the man had just said. His mind had been so deep in thought
about Ian he had forgotten that the guy was even there. “I’m fine. He
isn’t bleeding any longer.”

“I’ve never seen anything like that.” Freedman shook his head. “It

was the most bizarre thing to walk into.”

“And had you tried to interfere with any of them, with me, we

would have attacked you.” It was an honest statement.

Freedman gave him a hard stare, telling Mason without words that

they could have tried. Mason respected the man’s hard-as-steel balls.
He wouldn’t have been able to fight off five changelings in their beast
forms, but hell if the gleam in Freedman’s eyes didn’t give Mason
pause.

“I’ll see what I can do about finding some sedatives for Ian. I

think the first couple of days are going to be the hardest on him.”

They both glanced down at Ian who was lying there panting, his

eyes shut tight, his teeth locked together in a way that told Mason Ian
was fighting what was happening to him.

At least Ian was trying to fight it.
That was a start.
“Thanks,” Mason said as Freedman walked toward the bedroom

door.

“Don’t thank me yet. I may not find anything to help him through

this. He may escape as well.”

Like hell. Mason wasn’t going to let the man out of his sight

again. His jaguar was snarling at the idea of Ian going back to those
vampires, any vampire.

When they were alone, Mason made Ian a little more comfortable

on the bed, rearranging him so he wasn’t hanging half off of the
mattress.

58 Lynn

Hagen

“I’ll take the bindings off of you when you’ve calmed down.”
Ian turned his head away from Mason. Grabbing the chair, Mason

took a seat.

Mason could sense that Ian was becoming calmer, his fight

draining out of him. He leaned forward, grabbing Ian’s wrists to untie
him.

The human pulled away.
Mason’s fingers lingered close, wondering why Ian didn’t want to

be untied. He slowly leaned back. “Do the ties hurt?”

Mason was beginning to think Ian wouldn’t answer him. Then a

small, “No,” came from the man.

Mason had told Dorian earlier that he was beginning to

understand Ian. But truthfully, he hadn’t a damn clue what Ian was
going through. The man had whip marks from the nape of his neck to
his ankles, and every inch in between. Dorian had said Ian liked to get
beat up. None of it made any sense to him at all.

His mind wouldn’t accept the fact that Ian liked to get his ass

kicked. It didn’t fit the man. It was true that Mason could scent the
guy’s weakness, his lack of fight—aside from him trying to jump out
of window and his battle to get free. But Mason knew that was the
addiction motivating the man, not who Ian truly was.

Mason wondered if he had bitten off more than he could chew

when agreeing to watch over Ian. He knew nothing about addictions.
He was clueless about what to do with the man. But his beast
wouldn’t allow Mason to walk away. He knew deep down inside that
there was no walking away.

“Aren’t you going to punish me for trying to escape?” Mason

sighed deeply at Ian’s softly whispered words. He was already feeling
ashamed for wanting to eat the man. It seemed that dealing with Ian
was going to take a lot out of Mason. It was an emotional drainage
that he wasn’t sure he wanted to invest in.

“My Master would have beaten me to within an inch of my life for

trying to escape and then fighting him.”

Rise to Submit

Mason sat there rocked to his foundation.
Master?
Is that what happened to Ian? Is that—Mason sat forward, resting

his face in the palms of his hands as his head swam with this
knowledge. He knew that Ian was a naturally submissive male, but he
hadn’t known Ian was an actual submissive…in a vampire club.

Oh, sweet mother of mercy. He was in way over his head. It was

true that Mason was a very dominant male. He had played in quite a
few scenes of his own. But sitting there looking at Ian’s wounds and
knowing now what caused them, made him want to hunt the bastard
down who had hurt Ian and kill the man.

“I’m not going to beat you, Ian.” Mason rubbed his hands over his

face and sat back, feeling weary and wondering exactly what he was
going to do about Ian. He would say he was fresh out of ideas but one
had yet to come to him so far. He just didn’t know what to do with the
little human.

Mason reached for the rumpled blanket at the end of the bed and

covered Ian’s prone body. He had to stop himself from touching Ian.
Not in a sexual way, but giving the man what every changeling
craved. Touch. Comfort. Reassurance. Maybe a part of Mason needed
that as well, but he wasn’t going to make Ian think the wrong thing if
he ran his hand over the man’s arm or hair. The best he could do right
now was to cover the human and make sure his wounds healed.

“Where are we?”
“Colorado.” Mason sat back down, running his hands down his

jean-covered thighs. “We’ve come here to help the weregeese fight
off changeling mercenaries.” Talking about something other than
what Ian was going through helped relieve some of the stress Mason
was starting to feel.

He hated feeling stressed.
“I’ve been deeply submerged in a vampire club for the past few

months. I don’t know what’s going on with the outside world.” Ian

60 Lynn

Hagen

turned his head, his cobalt-blue eyes staring at him and making
Mason’s heart thump a little faster.

“So you don’t know the government declared war on

nonhumans?”

Ian shook his head and then laid it back down on the pillow. “I

knew my brother was shacked up with a changeling and that they
were on the most wanted list. I just didn’t know why. The vampires
weren’t big on letting me watch television.”

Mason saw too much in that one statement. Ian’s eyes were

haunted, hiding a pain so deep that it was eating the man alive. If
something didn’t change soon, Ian was going to be consumed.

“If you want, I can catch you up on what’s been happening.”
Ian studied Mason with silence. A fraction, just a tiny twitch

pulled at the side of Ian’s mouth, as if the man were straining to
smile. Mason knew in that breathless moment that when Ian
eventually gave him a full smile, one filled with merriment, not grief,
Ian could demand anything from Mason and he would give it to the
man with no hesitancy.

Mason mentally took a step back, wondering if he was staring at

the one man who would come to mean so much to him and have the
ability to destroy him at the same time.

He was pretty damn sure he was.
“I’d like that.”

Rise to Submit

Chapter Seven

Rick leaned against the truck, waiting for Bryson—a changeling

who had recently joined Rick’s group before the war started.

He glanced around the deserted alley, scanning for anything that

might be a threat. But then again, just being out here by himself was a
threat.

He was pulled from thought when his phone rang. Rick pulled it

from the clip. “Richard Carson.” Freedman had warned Rick that he
had become too lax when answering his cell phone. Just because it
was a SAT phone didn’t mean it couldn’t be traced.

So he used his alias.
Rick hated his alias.
“It’s Edward.”
The hairs on Rick’s neck stood on end as he straightened. “What’s

going on? Did Nate and Selene make it to you?”

“Yeah,” Edward answered. “They got around the protestors at the

blood bank and heisted me enough blood to last for a while.”

Rick could hear the tension in Edward’s voice. The man was

mated to Rick’s baby sister, Isabelle. She was pregnant, and Rick
constantly worried about her. “How’s Isabelle?”

“That’s why I called.”
Rick heard Edward pause. His nerves were becoming frayed

waiting on the rat king to tell him what the hell was going on with
Isabelle.

“I had to go to the local weredeer. Isabelle’s having complications

with the baby.”

62 Lynn

Hagen

Rick ran his hand over his face as he stared at the truck, his heart

thumping wildly. “What kind of complications?” He smashed his eyes
closed and placed his free hand on his head, praying like hell that it
wasn’t anything serious. He couldn’t lose his sister. She meant the
world to him. They had already lost their brother Bruno, and their
parents. She was all Rick had when it came to family.

“She’s spotting, from what the weredeer healer told me. Isabelle

was put on bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy, but a group of
human sympathizers that came through here said there are Breed
Hunters close by. I didn’t find this out until after I sent Nate and
Selene away.”

“Then call them back,” Rick immediately replied.
“I’ve tried, but neither is answering their phone.”
“Why does it seem like when it rains, the fucking skies open up?”
“Not sure,” Edward answered. “But it does seem that way most

days. I can’t move Isabelle, Rick. I won’t risk losing her or the baby.”

Rick knew that not only did Edward worship the ground Isabelle

walked on, but if Isabelle died, so did Edward, and vice versa.
Edward had been attacked by a rare breed of vampire. The only way
to save his life had been for him to claim Isabelle and live off of her
heartbeat.

“It’s my fault,” Edward said. “The weredeer think that since I

have to rely on Isabelle to stay alive, I’m taxing her. She is already
taxed enough carrying the baby, eating for two, and dealing with so
much stress that I want to kill everyone within a twenty mile radius.”

Rick wasn’t sure what to say. Edward couldn’t do anything about

needing Isabelle to stay alive. The only way the rat king could take
the burden off of Isabelle was to kill himself, but in killing himself, he
would be killing Isabelle.

The situation was truly fucked up.
“Do whatever you have to in order to keep Isabelle alive, Edward.

I won’t lose my sister. I’ll send help up that way to take care of the
Breed Hunters. In the meantime, lay as low as you can.” Fuck! Rick

Rise to Submit

was fuming mad, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
He was also so damn frightened that he would lose them both that his
head began to hurt.

“You know I’ll protect her with my life.”
“I’ll put the word on the wire that you are coming under attack

soon and that there is a pregnant changeling female with you. That
will get you help sooner.”

“I already sent out the distress call. Remember, I’m an IT director.

I’m damn good with computers. Speaking of that, I sent some files
with Nate. I don’t want to talk about it over the phone. I just wanted
to give you a heads-up on what was happening.”

“I appreciate it,” Rick said as a car pulled into the alley. “I’ve got

to go. You better let me know if anything changes with Isabelle.”

“No doubt.” Edward hung up.
Rick slid the phone back into the case as he watched Bryson get

out of his car and stride toward him.

“I thought you forgot about me,” Bryson said as he tilted his head,

exposing his neck in respect.

“Honestly?” Rick said as he gave Bryson a nod to let him know

Rick accepted his sign of respect. “I’m not going to mix words and
lie. I don’t trust you.”

Bryson’s eyes widened as he looked at Rick with a hurt

expression on his face. “But I’ve done nothing to show you that I
can’t be trusted, alpha.”

“It wasn’t a strike against your character, but I don’t know you

that well. And with my head being the most wanted one around, I
have to be very careful.” Rick leaned closer, locking light-grey eyes
with honey gold. “Understood?”

“Clearly,” Bryson replied. “But I swore an oath to you when I

joined your pack. Does that not hold any weight?”

Rick laughed at the reminder Bryson’s words brought to mind. If

only it were that simple. He shook his head as he held the eye contact.

64 Lynn

Hagen

“Hell no. Not these days. I’ve had pack members betraying me left
and right. And those were the people I thought I could trust.”

“Then I’ll have to prove to you that when I pledged it to you, I

took my oath seriously and still do. I came from a pack that wasn’t
anywhere close to what yours is like. No one touched, no one trusted.
I hated it. There is no way I would want to live like that again,”
Bryson said unwaveringly.

“We’ll see. Now, let’s get moving before we’re spotted. Just

follow me.” Rick got into his truck, pulling out of the alley, Bryson
following close behind.

He prayed Bryson meant what he said because Rick was tired of

being betrayed. If Bryson turned traitor after that pretty little speech,
Rick was going to make sure the man suffered for a very long time
before he died.

* * * *

Newman’s hand trailed behind him as he circled around Ian, his

eyes glowing so red that the orbs looked like twin moons on fire.

Ian trembled as he stood there—his arms raised high into the air,

his breathing labored, but his chest barely moved. He knew better
than to move. If Newman saw one flinch, one muscle quiver, the whip
in the vampire’s hand would slice through Ian’s back.

“Did you think getting away from me was that easy, human?”

Newman moved around Ian until he was standing in front of him,
locking eyes with Ian, enthralling him, making him feel as if he were
falling…falling…falling into a vast, empty wasteland where nothing
mattered and his soul was lost.

“No, Master.” Ian desperately wanted to break the eye contact.

He desperately wanted to leave this place. But he was also craving
the bite to the point that his entire body was aching for it.

Rise to Submit

Neman reached out, caressing Ian’s jaw, the claws that were

protruding from his nails scraping flesh. It wasn’t a gentle touch, but
a reminder of the pain this man could inflict upon Ian.

“You’re hurting for my bite, aren’t you, human?”
Ian wanted to say no. He wanted to tell Newman that he despised

the very ground the vampire walked on. But he knew in doing so, he
would be denied the one thing he wanted most right now. “Yes.”

Newman laughed as he roughly pushed Ian’s jaw away, and then

licked along the vein throbbing painfully in Ian’s neck. The man was
toying with him. The tips of his fangs pressed into Ian’s flesh, making
Ian gasp, but Newman didn’t break skin. “You’ll get your reward
when you tell me what Enrique Marcelo is up to.”

Ian blinked his eyes open. Freedman, Rick, and a stranger were

standing over him. Mason was holding Ian down, his breathing
labored. “Are you back with us?” Mason asked firmly.

His mind was groggy, and Ian found it difficult to talk.
“You had another seizure,” Rick stated. “According to Mason,

this one was longer than the last.”

Ian’s body hurt. His mind felt numb, and the craving for the

addiction he’d had for four years was eating at him, making him feel
like his body was being stretched to the breaking point.

The stranger moved closer.
“This is Bryson, Ian,” Mason said as he moved back slightly,

pulling something from Ian’s mouth. He hadn’t even realized
something was lodged in there. “He’s going to help with your
withdrawals.”

Ian saw the needle in Bryson’s hand. “No!” he shouted, his body

coming to life as he fought the man advancing toward him. If they put
Ian to sleep, Newman would find him again.

Newman would whip him for coming back with no information.
Ian didn’t want to give Newman a damn thing.
But the cravings…

66 Lynn

Hagen

“It’s better this way,” Bryson said. “You can sleep through the

toughest part. It’s called a chemically induced coma. There is nothing
addictive in the stuff that I’m going to give you.”

“No, no, no, no,” Ian cried as he grabbed onto Mason, clinging to

him for dear life, trying his best to crawl onto the large man. He still
wasn’t mentally focused after being with Newman, but Ian’s instincts
to survive were kicking in and his body was pumping with adrenaline.
“Please don’t let him do this.”

“Stop!” Mason shouted.
Ian had thought Mason was talking to him until he glanced up and

saw the man glaring across the bed. His arm wrapped around Ian,
pulling him close. Ian was shocked at how tender, how gentle those
strong arms felt.

He wanted Mason to wrap them around him and cocoon him in a

safe place where no one could hurt him, especially Newman.

“He needs help, Mason,” Rick argued. “You saw how he tried to

take a walk out of the second-floor window. Do you want him
succeeding the next time he tries?”

“Please don’t let them hurt me,” Ian begged Mason in a desperate

whisper. “Please.”

Mason’s jaw firmed. “If he gets out of control again, then Bryson

can put him under. Until then, I think Ian should have a say in what
happens to him.”

“You’re being a damn fool.” Rick growled the words. “He’s

playing you, Mason. Just yesterday he was ready to claw your eyes
out.”

Yesterday? Just how long had Ian been out of it? It didn’t matter

right now. His only goal at the moment was to stop Bryson from
injecting him. Ian curled his fingers deeper into Mason’s thick arms,
pushing his feet into the mattress and using the momentum to press
closer to the guy. Being in any kind of coma for a few days was not
an option. Newman would kill him before the first day was over.

Rise to Submit

“He’s scared shitless. I can scent it coming off of him and it

stinks. If he doesn’t need to be put under at this very moment, then he
won’t be,” Mason argued. Ian saw Rick glare at Mason, but he finally
nodded.

“He’s your responsibility, Mason. If anything happens, it will be

your neck,” Rick said heatedly. “Don’t let his pleas dissuade you from
doing what is right.”

“It’s for his own good,” Bryson tried once more. “It’s going to get

bad, Mason. Real bad. Think about Ian and what he is going to go
through. He may be scared now, but what will come in the next few
days are things nightmares are made of.”

It sounded to Ian like Bryson knew exactly what Ian was facing,

but at the moment, he didn’t care. He couldn’t let Newman get to him.
He just couldn’t. If he stayed awake, if he kept the wall of
wakefulness between him and that monster, then Ian was safe.

But the cravings…
Ian slammed his eyes closed and clung to Mason harder, trying his

best to fight the claws digging into his mind. He could do this. He
could get clean. He was sick of feeling like a damn junkie. He wanted
his fucking life back.

Mason’s hand smoothed down Ian’s back, surprising Ian with the

gentleness. He had an overwhelming urge to drop to his knees, bow
his head, and do whatever Mason commanded. But that was insane.
Mason was not his Master. “If it gets that bad, I’ll find you.”

Ian could hear a rough sigh and somehow knew it had come from

Rick. He knew Rick and Bryson were only trying to help, though he
couldn’t understand why. They didn’t know him. What did they care
if he was a worthless junkie?

Oh, right, Dorian. His brother probably wanted Ian knocked out

so he didn’t have to feel guilty about the pain Ian would endure. Ian
had thought Dorian truly loved him, but he was starting to see that his
brother was more worried about the beliefs he stood on than what was
really going on in Ian’s life. But Dorian didn’t want to know about

68 Lynn

Hagen

Ian’s depravities. His brother saw him as a waste of life. Ian knew this
because he knew Dorian.

The only thing he could do was get clean. He had to prove to not

only Dorian that he wasn’t a sick and depraved man, but to himself.
He was better than a man who craved an addiction that was going to
kill him sooner or later. Ian knew this, but that knowledge didn't stop
his cravings. He wished it did, but Ian could still feel the claws of
addiction trying to tear him apart.

He had to fight this.
Because if he didn't, it was going to kill him.

Rise to Submit

Chapter Eight

Mason wasn’t sure what to make of Ian. The man was clinging to

him like his life depended on it, but just yesterday he was filled with
venom—although their talk about what was going on in the world
around them hadn’t been so bad. Ian had lain there listening, asking
the right questions, and seemed truly enthralled with what Mason was
telling him.

Rick and Bryson had left them alone, but Ian hadn’t released him.

Mason stood there by the bed, barely breathing. Slowly, Ian’s fingers
uncurled from Mason’s arms as the man slid back down to the bed.

“Do you want to tell me what that was all about?” Ian’s scent had

changed to something he couldn’t identify, and Mason could tell the
man was rebuilding the walls around his defenses. Ian was shutting
him out. “Were you just using me to get out of being put under or
were you really scared?”

It pissed Mason off to no end to think of Ian using him. He had

defended the guy, stood up to Rick, who could by all rights make
Mason leave. If he was risking his position within this Rebellion
group, then he wanted to know why.

“I wasn’t using you,” Ian defended his pleas and protests. “I don’t

want to be doped up. I have to be in control of my own mind.”

“Do you think that someone would take advantage of you while

you were out of it?” He noticed the jerkiness in Ian’s hands as he
pulled the blanket around his bare hips. It was natural for a changeling
to see others nude and think nothing of it.

But Ian was human, and he seemed so natural in the buff that it

made Mason wonder how long had it been since Ian wore clothes.

70 Lynn

Hagen

Ian glanced away and Mason had his answer. “Your brother is

here. Don’t you think he would kill anyone who thought of taking
advantage of you?” Mason didn’t mean to so sound so angered, but he
was offended. Rationally, he knew Ian didn’t know anyone here
except Dorian, but for Ian to look like he didn’t trust even Mason—
well, it hurt.

It shouldn’t. They didn’t even know each other, but it did. He just

wasn’t sure why. There were emotions brewing around inside of him.
Emotions he didn't fully understand. But to know Ian looked at him as
some kind of deviant didn’t set well with Mason. If anything, Mason
was looking out for Ian, protecting him. Didn’t the man see that?

“What do you guys plan on doing now that the government is

tracking the nonhumans down?” Ian asked.

Subject change. Mason wasn’t sure he liked Ian’s evasive tactics,

but wasn’t going to push the man. He knew from experience that
pushing only made the pushed shut down harder.

“Survive,” Mason answered honestly. “What other plan is there?”
Trust worked both ways.
“That’s it?” Ian asked. “I’m stuck with a Rebellion group that just

plans on surviving?” Ian pushed the blankets around his waist a little
harder, his movements still jerky, but Mason could tell it was from
anger this time.

Would Mason be angry if he found himself in a group that only

planned on surviving, not fighting? Maybe. But he wasn’t a fool. Just
as he had to earn Ian’s trust, Ian had to earn his. It didn’t matter to
Mason that the man was Dorian’s brother. That held no weight with
him. Ian had spent months deep in a kiss of vampires. There was no
telling what had been done to him.

There was no telling what Ian would do now that he was free.
But was he free?
Ian was an addict.
Even Mason knew that Ian would always be an addict. But it was

his recovery and what he did now that he was away from his drug

Rise to Submit

supply that determined whether his addiction would kill him or make
him a stronger man.

“What would you do?” Mason asked. “The war has grown.

Changelings are no longer detained at a detention center for
questioning. Most are imprisoned, and those who aren’t…” Mason
trailed off. It had been rumored that the scientists who claimed
lycanthropy was a disease had come up with a cure. But the cure was
turning changelings inside out, pushing them to shift, and then leaving
them half human, half animal. Deluca and Brooke, two men who had
been with Rick’s Rebellion group until two months ago, said they had
seen something like that in one of the labs when they were rescuing
Willow, their mate.

The two had recounted how the changeling had begged for death.

They said it was nothing like they had seen before and prayed they
never saw again. Bones were protruding from muscle, the face half
formed, tissue and vital organs exposed.

The cure not only forced the change, but mutated them in a way

that was nothing short of violent torture. Mason felt queasy just
thinking about it. No one should suffer through something like that.

“I would fight. I would have a plan. I wouldn’t cower in some

damn hideaway and pray they didn’t find me.”

“Brave words for—”
“What?” Ian snapped his eyes up at Mason, anger clouding the

cobalt color until it was a mass of ice. “Go ahead and say it. Brave
words for a junkie?”

“That’s not what I was going to say, Ian.”
“Then what were you going to say?”
“Human,” Mason snarled. “You are not on the most wanted list.

You can say what you would do. How does it affect you? You could
walk out of here and a Breed Hunter could stop you, test you, and
then let you go.”

Ian threw his head back and laughed. Mason would have smiled,

but the sound was more mocking than humorous. “I am the notorious

72 Lynn

Hagen

Enrique Marcelo’s brother-in-law. How far do you think I will get
when they discover this? My life is fucked because my brother
decided to mate—”

“Go ahead and say it, Ian.” Mason threw the man’s words back at

him, only his were filled with so much rage that Mason wanted to hurt
something. “Your brother decided to mate an animal.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”
Mason quirked a disbelieving brow.
“My brother decided to mate the most wanted man in America.”

Ian’s sudden laugh was chilling, and not just because Mason hadn’t
heard it before. It unnerved Mason to hear such an embittered sound
come out of Ian’s mouth. “I tell you, when Dorian decides to do
something, he goes all the way.”

“Wow, I didn’t realize that you were such a judgmental little shit.

Tell me why Rick is the most wanted man, Ian. Is it because he is an
outlaw? It is because he is a murderer? Is it even because he is a
traitor of his own country, a country he has proudly called his home
his entire life until the government he thought he could trust fucked
him?”

“Go to hell,” Ian shot back.
“Very educated response, Ian. You should really work on thinking

before you give your damn opinion.”

Ian pushed to his knees, his small hands curling into fists, and his

face a mask of rage. “You have no idea what I’ve been through! You
don’t know me. The shit I’ve seen, what I’ve endured, would make
you have nightmares.”

“We didn’t ask to be hunted!”
Ian screamed, throwing his lithe body at Mason, his fingernails

digging into Mason’s skin as he growled, spat, and fought to hurt
Mason.

The door flew open, Bryson and Rick glancing between them. Ian

was out of control. His eyes were unfocused as he clawed at Mason
like a wild animal.

Rise to Submit

“No!” Ian cried when Bryson and Rick pulled him away from

Mason. “Please, Mason, I’m sorry. Please don’t let them do this to
me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” His words were shot out bullet-fast, but this
time, Mason didn’t stop them.

“Mason, please,” Ian begged. “I promise I won’t hurt you again.

Please don’t let them put me to sleep.” Tears stained Ian’s cheeks, and
as badly as Mason wanted to pull Ian into his arms and protect the
man, he knew this was best. Even though it tore at his heart for Ian to
beg for his help and Mason to stand by and do nothing. His jaguar
yowled loudly inside of him, protesting Mason’s allowance for this to
happen to Ian.

But Rick and Bryson had been right. If Ian could only make it the

next couple of days, maybe he had a fighting chance.

“Mason,” Ian sobbed as Bryson gave him the injection and then

Rick laid the small human comfortably on the bed. Mason stopped
himself from touching Ian. He knew that if he did, he would fight for
the two men to get away from the human.

“It’s better this way,” Mason said, refusing to look at Ian. “You

need more help than I can give you.”

“I trusted you, Mason,” Ian whispered before his eyes closed and

he was sound asleep.

And although Mason knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, he felt

as though he had broken that nascent trust that Ian might have been
starting to give to him.

“You all right?” Rick asked after he covered Ian with the blanket.
“I’m fine,” Mason quickly replied and then took a deep breath. He

wasn’t fine, but he wasn’t going to tell these men how guilty he felt.
Ian’s pleas were still echoing in his mind, the look of utter fear in the
man’s dark-blue eyes.

Those eyes would haunt him for a very long time. It was bad

enough that Mason didn’t understand why he was feeling so strongly
toward Ian, but the guilt was something he shouldn’t be feeling. He

74 Lynn

Hagen

didn’t even know Ian, yet he felt like he had known the man his entire
life.

It was so strange that not even Mason could figure out what he

was feeling.

“He’ll be fine,” Bryson reassured him. “He’s just asleep. Science

has come a long way, Mason. The induced coma isn’t what it was like
thirty years ago. It’s safe and much more effective than it used to be.
We don’t even have to give him anything to counteract the drop in
blood pressure. I’ll come in from time to time and check on his vitals
though.”

So clinical. So matter-of-fact. But Ian wasn’t just a patient. Ian

was…Mason wasn’t really sure.

“Try to get some rest,” Rick said as he walked toward the door.

“He’ll be asleep for a while. It won’t do you any good to be sleep
deprived when he wakes up.”

Mason wasn’t shielding his emotions. He knew Rick and Bryson

could scent his protectiveness toward Ian. He wasn’t trying very hard
to hide it. “I will.”

Once he was alone, Mason took a seat in the chair next to the bed.

It was wooden, and not too comfortable, but he wanted to watch over
Ian. He wasn’t sure why. The guy was asleep, harmful to no one, not
even himself.

But the desperate plea not to let Ian fall asleep bothered Mason. It

was an odd thing for Ian to beg for. He could understand if the man
had pleaded for Bryson not to inject him. There were a lot of people
afraid of needles. He even knew Ian thought that he might be taken
advantage of in his sleep, but Mason had scented that protest as weak.

No, there was something Ian was truly frightened of, something

that went beyond Mason’s understanding. He rested his elbows on his
thighs, curling his hands into fists and resting his chin on those fists as
he watched Ian sleep.

Even though Ian was as thin as a rail, the man was stunning. He

had the same color hair as Dorian, maybe a shade darker, and it fell in

Rise to Submit

waves to his shoulders. He looked in desperate need of a cut, but
honestly, Mason liked the longer hair.

Ian gave a small gasp.
Mason’s body locked into place, nothing moving, not a muscle

twitching when the scent of blood began to fill his lungs. He wasn’t
sure where it was coming from, but he knew it was Ian’s. There was
no way Mason could forget that sweet fragrance. It called to him,
begging his changeling to unleash itself.

Mason stood so fast that he knocked the chair over and began to

back away from the bed as his eyes flickered over Ian’s body. The
man was still in a deep sleep, and he didn’t see any cuts or even a
bloody nose, but the scent was becoming stronger.

“Bryson!”
Mason held his breath after he shouted for the medic. His entire

body was thrumming to life, fighting to change into his jaguar form. It
wasn’t something he could allow. The werewolves prided themselves
on their strength, their hunting skills, and their leadership, but it was
the werecats—the entire feline breed—whose skills for hunting down
prey with honed accuracy was unsurpassed.

Mason wouldn’t allow himself to hunt Ian down.
He wouldn’t allow himself to kill a man who was fighting to stay

alive.

Hurrying to the window, Mason flung it open and shoved his head

out, sucking down the cool winter air, struggling not to go to the bed
and lick Ian’s entire body before he took a bite.

A very deadly bite.
“What the hell is going on?” Bryson yelled as the door slammed

opened and the werewolf ran in. “Why is he bleeding?”

Mason’s fingers curled into the windowsill, his teeth gritting

together as he fought tooth and nail not to shift. This was worse than
the first time he scented Ian’s blood. There was more, so much more
for his werejaguar to indulge in. His beast tried to show him how
much Mason would enjoy—no!

76 Lynn

Hagen

“I don’t know,” he answered as his fingers splintered the wood. “I

was sitting there watching him sleep when I smelled his blood. Fix
him! You have to stop him from—” Mason shook his head, ridding
himself of the images—“bleeding.”

Glancing back into the room, Mason saw Bryson turn Ian on his

side. The wounds on the man’s back had reopened, blood dripping
from more than one cut. His jaguar yowled, almost forcing Mason to
move closer, to sniff, to taste. “How in the fuck did his wounds
reopen when he’s been lying there, unmoving?”

Bryson shook his head as he finished turning Ian over. He grabbed

the towels Freedman had brought into the room and began to wipe at
the wounds, but it seemed the more he wiped, the more Ian bled.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Bryson said as he worked

diligently to stop the flow of blood. “It’s as if he is being attacked in
his sleep. I can’t get the wounds to stop bleeding.”

“Maybe he has some kind of blood disorder,” Freedman spoke,

“something that thins his blood and stops it from coagulating.”

Bryson shook his head as he threw the bloody towel on the floor

and grabbed a clean one. “If that were the case, then you wouldn’t
have gotten them to stop bleeding when he was first brought here.”

Mason stood by the window, fighting his basest reaction,

remembering Ian’s pleas. The man had begged not to be put to sleep.

Had he known this would happen?
Mason wasn’t sure what this was, but he had a feeling Ian did.
“If we don’t get him to stop bleeding, he’s going to die,” Bryson

said. “I can’t stop the flow.”

“Wake him,” Mason snarled from the window.
Bryson and Freedman glanced up at him. “And what good would

that do?” the medic asked as he tossed the soaked towel and grabbed
another.

“I’m not sure, but wake him. Please, trust me on this.” Because if

they didn’t, Mason wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out.

Rise to Submit

Bryson stared at him a moment longer and then nodded. “I’ll go

get my bag.”

Mason watched Bryson leave, and then his eyes snapped to Ian.

He prayed he was right, because if he wasn’t, Ian was going to die.

By bleeding out…or worse.

78 Lynn

Hagen

Chapter Nine

“You come back to me with nothing!” Newman cracked the whip,

the air hissing around the metal tentacles of the vampire’s favored
flog right before it sliced into Ian’s back. “I told you to find out what
they were up to!”

Ian stood there, trying his best to crawl into his mind, to hide from

the pain, to hide from Newman, but the whip wouldn’t allow him such
reprieve. “I tried!” he cried out as the metal carved his back and
made Ian think a torch was being pressed into his flesh.

His hands were above his head, but they were tied and Ian was

hanging by a hook. His wrists were throbbing, and Ian could feel the
wet, warm blood dripping down his back. The unrelenting pain was
merciless. Ian already didn’t have enough padding on his bones. The
vampires had damn near succeeded in starving him to death. With his
skin paper-thin, Ian prayed the lashes didn’t end up killing him.

But then again, it would stop the torture he knew Newman was

gleefully enjoying, even if his tone was brutal.

Newman knew Ian couldn’t withstand this level of pain. This

wasn’t the first time the sadistic man had peeled his skin apart.

The whip halted and Newman walked around Ian until he was

standing in front of him, his eyes blazing red. “You will get me the
information I want or I swear I will kill you. There is nowhere you
can hide from me. As you can see, not even your dreams are safe.”

Ian trembled as he hung like a side of meat, Newman walking

behind him and letting the whip crack over and over again until Ian
felt the edges of his vision blur.

Rise to Submit

“Get me what I want, human, or you will wish you were dead by

the time I am done with you.”

Ian screamed at the top of his lungs as his body flailed about. The

pain was so intense that he wished he would hurry up and die.

“The bleeding is slowing.”
Ian lay there on his stomach, crying into the pillow as every nerve

ending he owned felt like it was being carved from his body. The pain
was melting him, his mind fragmenting, trying to shut down, but Ian
fought it. If he passed out, Newman would find him, and he just might
make good on his promise. Ian gritted his teeth to the point his entire
face hurt. He grunted loudly as he struggled to breathe, tears and
sweat mingling.

“Can you understand me, Ian?”
It was Bryson. The voice was close to his ear, penetrating through

the pain-filled fog his mind was enmeshed in. “Y–Y–Yes.”

“I’m sorry, but I had to wake you. Do you know why you are

bleeding in your sleep?”

Oh, god. How in the hell could Newman make his dream beatings

manifest in the real world? It was impossible, yet Ian lay here feeling
the same fire enveloping his body as he had when he was hanging in
front of Newman.

It couldn’t be.
Yet it was.
“N–N–No.” If he told anyone what was going on, Newman would

surely bring so much pain and torture to Ian that he begged for death
weeks before he found his final peace. He didn’t want to be the
vampire’s puppet, but he had no choice.

Ian wasn’t a strong man to begin with, and Newman preyed on his

weakness like a disease. He was exploiting it and turning it on him.

Ian screamed, trying to release some of the pain through his voice,

through his cries, through his tears, but it seemed nothing was
working. He lay there feeling like one large exposed nerve.

“I can give you something—”

80 Lynn

Hagen

“No,” Ian cried.
“It will ease the pain, but won’t put you to sleep,” Bryson

promised.

Ian doubted there was any drug out there that could ease his pain.

Not the pain that was tearing him down and leaving him a husk of a
man. In that moment, it was the worst of Ian’s life, leaving him as
helpless as a babe around not vampires, but men who looked at him as
weak prey, as a junkie, judging him and breaking Ian’s spirit quicker
than any of the vampires ever could. For these men were the epitome
of strength and courage, neither of which Ian possessed.

“You should be feeling a little better in a minute,” Bryson said. “I

didn’t give you a high dosage, and the meds should only knock the
edge off, but I’m assuming that’s better than what you are feeling
now.”

“I just don’t get it,” Mason said, his voice coming from across the

room. “How can he bleed from sleeping?”

“I haven’t a clue,” Bryson said.
“Can I talk to you downstairs?”
Ian glanced up to see Rick staring at Mason. His heart beat a little

faster, wondering if Rick had any clue of what was going on. There
was no possible way, but Ian wouldn’t bet his life on the confidence
that Rick was clueless about Newman was visiting him in his
unconscious state.

Even if the man did know, Ian was going to die, because he

couldn’t stay awake forever.

Eventually he would fall asleep, and when Ian did, Newman

would be waiting for him.

* * * *

Mason watched as Rick paced the backyard, his chestnut-brown

brows pulled down into a deep frown. He paused, shook his head a

Rise to Submit

few times, as if working out a problem in his head, and then paced
some more.

Sasha, the alpha of the leopard changelings, was leaning against

the house, his arms tucked over his chest, watching Rick with intense
green eyes. “Did you call us out here to watch you fret?” Sasha finally
asked.

Rick drew up short, giving Sasha his full attention. “How can a

man be hurt while he sleeps?”

From Sasha’s confused expression, Mason concluded that the man

hadn’t been told of Ian and what had happened to him. He looked like
he considered his answer before he spoke. “Someone sneaks in and
attacks.”

“No.” Rick shook his head and then glanced at Mason. “Ian was

guarded. He was given a chemical mixture that put him into a deep
sleep. All of a sudden his wounds began to open. They were bleeding
and Bryson couldn’t get the bleeding back under control until he
woke Ian.”

“And then his bleeding eased?” Sasha asked, his tone a mixture of

disbelief and puzzlement.

Rick nodded. “It was as if he were being attacked while he slept.

No one was standing there beating him, yet it looked as if his wounds
were being reopened like a whip scoring his back. How in the hell is
that possible?”

Mason turned the scene over and over in his mind, but he couldn’t

come up with a plausible explanation. He had seen the wounds
literally slice open, more than one at a time. Even the knowledge that
Ian had to wake up still stumped Mason. It was more of a feeling than
any concrete idea.

“It’s the vampires,” Omar said from the porch. Mason had been so

entrenched in thought that he hadn’t noticed the werewolf walk onto
the back porch.

82 Lynn

Hagen

Sasha finally pushed away from the house, giving Omar a look

that questioned the man’s intelligence. “How can they attack the
human in his sleep?”

Omar maneuvered around the railing and descended the steps,

eyeing each man with a stern look as he walked. “What do we know
about vampires, other than the basic facts? We are well aware that
looking one of them straight in the eyes can enthrall us. That’s a
proven fact. We also know they don’t breathe and their hearts don’t
beat. Their saliva is an aphrodisiac even to us changelings, although
vampires don’t care for the taste of our blood. Beyond that, we are
pretty clueless.”

“So you think they can what, dream walk?” Sasha asked, his voice

dripping with sarcasm.

“The Greeks believe in Morpheus, a god of dreams. Ancient

Egyptians believed in the power of dreams to bring messages from
their many gods. It was referred to as dream scrying. Ancient societies
in the bible saw dreams as prophetic. So, would it be too farfetched to
think a vampire could use those same dreams to enter into Ian’s
mind? Why is it hard to believe that they could make the vision so
real that Ian’s physical body reacted to anything the vampire did to
him?”

“Like whipping him,” Mason concluded. “You’re saying if his

mind believes that it is happening that it will manifest itself in the real
world?”

“The mind is a very powerful thing.” Omar tucked his hands into

the front pockets of his trousers. “I do believe that if Ian thinks a
vampire is truly harming him, then his body is reacting to whatever
the vampire is doing to him.”

“But you’re talking about gods versus a sadistic vampire,” Rick

pointed out.

“Why can’t it be true?” Omar asked. “We don’t know too much

about vampires. Kraven has the Mãos da Morte. They shouldn’t exist
or have the powers that they possess, but they do. We ourselves can

Rise to Submit

shift into animals, defying the very laws of nature. Who’s to say that
vampires can’t invade our dreams?”

“Because then we are fucked,” Rick stated. “If one of the vampires

is attacking Ian in his sleep, what do you want to bet it is for
information on us? Why else would they bother with him? He was
just a fang junkie to them. I think Kraven has found a way to use Ian
against us. A mole.”

“He can’t stay awake forever,” Sasha interjected. “Sooner or later

he will fall asleep. How will he defend himself then?”

Mason felt helpless and enraged at the same time. If a vampire

showed himself, Mason could fight him, but how in the hell was he to
protect Ian while he slept? How could he protect Ian from his own
dreams? He knew that telling the guy to believe it wasn’t real when he
fell asleep would do no good. The first perception of pain would
break Ian down, making Mason’s words forgotten in a sea of lashes.

“I don’t think we should let on to Ian that we know. Any

knowledge he has in his conscious mind would manifest in his
dreams. We don’t want whoever is using him to know that we are on
to him,” Rick said.

“Feed him false information,” Sasha suggested. “Maybe that will

spare his beatings and prove Omar’s theory.”

“And if we find out Omar is right?” Mason asked, keeping the raw

anger from his voice. “Then what? If we go after whoever it is, then
Kraven will only send his Mãos da Morte

after us. How do we win

against him, against them?”

“We can’t just leave him defenseless,” Omar stated. “We need to

teach him how to fight back.”

Mason stared slack-jawed at the small werewolf. “Have you seen

him? He’s as thin as a twig and…” Mason trailed off. He was about to
say as submissive as they came, but for some reason, that bit of
information seemed private to Mason. It was a fact that he didn’t want
the others to have knowledge of.

84 Lynn

Hagen

It was a bizarre thought, but true. They could probably surmise

Ian’s nature by what he had been through, was still going through, but
to voice it felt like Mason was betraying Ian.

What an odd fucking thought.
“We can’t fight this war, stay one step ahead of Breed Hunters,

changeling mercenaries, and fight off the vampires when they visit
one of our men in his sleep.” Rick gritted his words out. “We need
help with Ian. We need to find someone who knows about dream
walking.”

Mason clenched his jaw. It didn’t sit well with him that he

couldn’t defend Ian. He chalked up his need to keep Ian safe to the
fact that Rick had given him the task.

But on a much deeper level, his jaguar knew the truth. It was very

interested in Ian. Mason just wasn’t sure if that interest was in
guarding the weak man, or eating him.

“Send out word on the wire,” Rick said. “I want to know if anyone

knows anything about dream walkers. We have to find a way to get
Ian out of this. I’m willing to bet he doesn’t want to betray us, but if
given the choice between handing us over and being beaten to a
bloody pulp, Ian is going to try and take the less painful route.”

“I’ll get word out,” Omar said as he walked back toward the door.
“Get back upstairs with him,” Rick said to Mason as he ran his

hand over the back of his neck looking weary. “I want you to guard
him twenty-four seven. I know he can’t stay awake forever, but feed
him false intel. That should buy him some time.”

Mason was through the door and heading up the steps in seconds

flat. He prayed Omar found someone to help Ian. The man couldn’t
take another beating. He looked like shit now and exhausted as hell.
The need to pull the smaller man into his arms was overwhelming, but
two reasons kept him from bursting into the room and doing just that.

One, Mason knew Ian was already in pain. Pulling the guy into his

arms just might hurt him and could possibly reopen his wounds again.

Rise to Submit

Two, Mason was scared shitless of the way he was feeling. It

wasn’t just a strong attraction to another person, but almost an
obsession to be near the man, to control him, to dominate him. It was
also the fact that Ian had been through hell for four years and was
forced into a submissive role by the vampires.

Mason knew the human had to be forced. When Bryson woke

him, Ian didn’t look like he was in heaven, but hell from the pain. It
looked like the very act of breathing was a struggle. He had a feeling
Ian endured whatever the vampires did to him in order to get his fix
and not because he liked to get beaten as Dorian assumed.

Mason was more determined than ever to make sure Ian stayed

clean. Entering the room, he saw Bryson smoothing the thick white
cream over Ian’s back. Ian lay there with his eyes wide open. He
could scent the man’s fear, and his struggles. The pain meds must be
making him tired as hell.

“How is he?” Mason asked Bryson as he grabbed the wooden

chair and took a seat, smiling at Ian. The human looked confusedly at
Mason, as if Mason had no reason to smile at him.

“Better,” Bryson replied as he closed the lid on the cream and set

it aside. He wiped his hand on the cloth lying next to Ian’s body.
Mason was grateful that the bloody rags had been taken from the
room and the sheets had been changed. He knew he wouldn’t be able
to handle the scent of Ian’s blood. He was too susceptible, and not just
because he was a jaguar. Ian called to him on a level Mason didn’t
want to examine too closely.

“If he can catch a break from having his wounds reopened, they

should be completely healed within a few weeks.”

Mason prayed they could stop the vampire from reopening them.

Ian didn’t look like he could lose much more blood. His skin was
pale, paper-white, and his skin was hanging loosely from his frame. It
looked as though the vampires had starved the man. “Can you see if
someone can bring Ian something to eat?”

86 Lynn

Hagen

Bryson gave a quick nod. “I was thinking the same thing. I’ll

make sure it’s packed with proteins and carbohydrates.”

Yeah, because Ian needed some thick, calorie-filled foods as well

as nutrition. It was going to have to be a balance of both. The man
needed weight desperately, but they didn’t need to clog his arteries
with a heavy dose of fat.

Once they were alone, Ian’s light-blue eyes raked over Mason in

curiosity. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Mason countered as he settled back into the

chair.

“I haven’t been the nicest guy to you.”
“True,” Mason replied with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

“But I’m not that easily put off.” Which was a lie, but Mason knew
Ian was different. He wasn’t purposefully trying to be a shit. It was a
combination of the addiction and what the man had lived through for
years. “Are you expecting me to be mean and cruel because you have
overwhelming odds against you?”

Ian’s blue eyes dulled as he stared at Mason, resembling a

lightbulb that had been clicked off. “I’m a junkie, Mason. Nothing
spectacular. Nothing special. Just a junkie. What does it say about me
when even a sadistic vampire doesn’t want me anymore?” The words
were a soft conviction, one spoken with a dry, airless, defeated
resignation. It made the man’s scent smell like the salt tears were
made of.

Mason, and his beast, growled at the way Ian was insulting his

own character. The man had absolutely no self-esteem and no self-
worth. After meeting Dorian and Ian’s parents, Mason was baffled at
the way Ian viewed himself. They were strong fighters, whereas Ian
was giving up. But Mason wasn’t going to allow Ian to throw in the
towel so easily. “And before you became an addict, how would you
have described yourself?”

The truth shone in Ian’s eyes as he looked at Mason. His gaze was

as lifeless as his tone. “Starving, aching, and woefully alone.”

Rise to Submit

Chapter Ten

“Can you explain a little more in detail?” Mason asked, leaning

casually back in the chair, one arm tossed over the back, his legs
stretched out and crossed at the ankles. The man looked as if he didn’t
have a care in the world, as if nothing bothered him.

Ian knew Mason wouldn’t understand the confusion he had lived

in for so many years, more years than he had been around the
vampires. “I feel like I don’t belong anywhere and I’m constantly
fighting to get somewhere.” It was the best way Ian could think of to
describe what he had always felt inside. Even in his younger years
when raging hormones were rampaging through him and he was just
as confused about noticing boys instead of girls, Ian knew he was
different.

He hadn’t noticed the guys who were equal to him in stature and

character, but the ones who were dominating, knew what they wanted,
and commanded everyone else around. Ian was drawn to their
strength, something he lacked, but wanted desperately to be a part of.
His teenage years had been extremely confusing, and it hadn’t gotten
any better when he became an adult.

By then, Calico had fucked with Ian’s head so badly that he

wasn’t sure what he wanted any longer.

But staring at Mason, seeing the inherent strength even in the

man’s relaxed posture brought those younger years of yearning back
to Ian with a vengeance. “Will you be my Master?” The words were
out before Ian could stop or censure them.

Mason noticeably stiffened, his relaxed posture growing as rigid

as steel as he continued to stare at Ian. It was the first time someone

88 Lynn

Hagen

who wasn’t a vampire studied Ian with such deep concentration. He
knew he made a mistake. He was a worthless junkie. Who would
want someone like him? Ian was broken, someone to be pitied or
sneered at for being with vampires, but not someone a decent person
would take on.

“No,” Mason finally answered. Ian’s heart sank. He lay there with

nothing. As twisted as the thought was, he almost wished he was still
with Newman. He hated every second he was around the undead man,
but something was better than nothing.

And now Ian had nothing. He had no one to show him the clear

lines between who ruled, and who followed, no matter how torturous
the lesson was. Newman didn’t give Ian choices. He followed the
vampire’s instructions to the letter, leaving no room for doubt.

But lying here, watching Mason’s blue eyes study him as if he

were a freak, made Ian want to run and hide. He felt exposed, more
naked than just merely being without clothes.

“I’m not going to replace whoever you were with.” Mason sat

forward, his eyes narrowing on Ian. “What I am, what I want, and
what you need is polar opposite of what you have lived.”

Ian was confused. “If you don’t want to be my Master, then what

are you to me?”

The man’s eyes gentled, and a smile played at his lips, making

Mason appear so stunning that Ian had to lower his eyes. What he was
feeling confused him. Mason was just his babysitter. Nothing more.
He wasn’t interested in Ian, yet Ian was feeling something strange
stirring inside of him.

It was almost a warm feeling, something Ian had never felt for

anyone outside his family, but vastly different even from that. The
tingling was barely there, but Ian could feel it in the depth of his
stomach, like tiny butterfly wings skimming him with a featherlight
touch.

“A friend,” Mason replied, “and then a best friend—eventually, a

partner who will always show you the correct road to walk on.”

Rise to Submit

Mason reached out and slid his fingers into Ian’s, making the butterfly
wings flap harder. “I’ll always have your back and I’ll always protect
you.”

Ian stared at Mason’s hand in his. It was so much larger than his

own, and he could feel the strength just under the skin, the harnessed
power this man possessed. He wasn’t sure if he was attracted to
Mason because of who he was, or because the man exuded power and
strength, something Ian had always been attracted to.

“What if I don’t know how to be friends?”
“Then I’ll show you.”
“And if I fail you?” Ian swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure if he

could trust Mason. In the beginning, Ian had trusted Calico. The
vampire had quickly shown him that trust was so fragile that it was
easily broken.

What if he broke Mason’s? He wanted to trust Mason with what

Newman was doing to him, but Ian was scared, so damn scared to
reach out to anyone for help.

“Then we start over until you learn to trust me.” Mason slid his

hand from Ian’s. “No one said this would be easy, but if you are
willing to try, then so am I.”

“I’ve never had a friend, let alone a best friend,” Ian admitted.
“Neither have I.” Mason shocked Ian with his confession. “But I

truly believe friends are there when you are not only strong, but when
you hit rock bottom. They love you even when you are at your worst.”

The door opened, and Freedman walked in with a tray in his hand.

Ian scooted further away from Mason. He wasn’t sure what to make
of what the man had just said to him. Love you at your worst. If only
Ian could believe that. His own brother didn’t want anything to do
with him. Why would a stranger stick his neck out for Ian or help him
find his way?

They were pretty words, but Ian knew better than to trust anyone.

As much as he wanted to believe the guy, Ian knew that it would

90 Lynn

Hagen

never happen. He wouldn’t let his guard down long enough to let
anyone in.

“I’ll just leave this over here.” Freedman set the tray down and

then left the two alone.

“Smells good.” Mason got up and walked to the dresser, but Ian

wasn’t hungry. There was only one thing he wanted, and it was the
one thing he couldn’t have.

Mason looked over his shoulder at Ian, his eyes lowering slightly.

“Your scent has changed.”

Ian began to pant, gritting his teeth as he swore he heard the black

gates of hell opening up and welcoming him in as the cravings pulled
him under. “No!” Ian slammed his head into the wall where the
headboard should have been. He had to stop the cravings. He had to
stop himself from going insane.

He wanted that rush. He needed it.
“Ian!” Mason pulled him away from the wall, pushing his body

down into the bed. “Breathe, damn it, just breathe.”

Ian arched his body into Mason’s strong hands, fighting as sweat

poured off of him. He tried to suck in enough air to do as Mason
asked.

He couldn’t. Breathing had become impossible.
“Come on, Ian. Don’t give in. Don’t give up.”
“It hurts,” Ian cried. He fought against Mason. Ian fought against

wanting to run back to Newman. Ian fought for his very sanity.

Mason flipped him over and grabbed his face in a vice grip.

“Focus on me. Focus on my eyes. Do you hear me, Ian?”

Fists flying, Ian starting battering Mason’s head. “Let me go!”
Mason released him and Ian jumped up from the bed, fell to the

floor, and began to crawl on his belly toward the window. His
backside was screaming in pain, but that didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered.

Rise to Submit

Mason dropped to his knees next to Ian. “Look at you, Ian. You’re

crawling like a worthless piece of shit. That’s not who you are.
You’re stronger than this.”

Ian pulled himself another inch and then collapsed, curling into a

ball, fighting the pain from nape to ankles as he cried. “I’m just a
fucking junkie! Get away from me!” He rolled to his stomach again,
trying to go somewhere, anywhere, but Mason was blocking his way.

“Friends, Ian. Even when you are crawling, I’ll be there.” Mason

pulled Ian from the floor, cradling him in strong arms as Ian fought to
get free.

The door opened and Bryson hurried over to them.
“No drugs,” Mason said to Bryson as he rocked Ian back and forth

in his arms, running his hand over Ian’s head. “No drugs.”

“I just want to check his vitals.”
Ian was pouring with sweat as he pulled at Mason’s shirt, clinging

to him, pushing against him, and wondering how he could live
through such pain.

“F–Friends,” Ian said between chattering teeth.
“Friends,” Mason said as he held on to Ian while Bryson checked

the man’s vitals.

“D–Don’t let me go.”
“Never,” Mason promised as he brushed the hair from Ian’s face

that was matted by sweat. “I told you I have your back.”

Ian closed his eyes and nodded, and then they flew open. He

couldn’t sleep. If he slept, Newman would come after him. But he
was so damn tired.

“Hey,” Mason said as he gave Ian a slight jostle. “Stay with me.”
“I–I’m here.”
“Here’s a blanket.” Bryson tossed a blanket over Ian. “Keep him

warm.”

Mason tucked it around Ian and then scooted until his back was

against the wall.

“You done checking him?”

92 Lynn

Hagen

“Yeah, I’m going to check on him periodically through the night,

though.”

Ian prayed Mason held on to him, because fighting this, fighting

Newman—hell, even fighting his craving for what Mason could give
him—was wearing him down.

He curled tighter into Mason’s heat, drawing on it as the cravings

that had been trying to tear him apart slowly ebbed. Ian became more
relaxed as he felt the power of Mason surround him.

When Mason’s hand brushed Ian’s hair back, Ian took a chance

and kissed the palm of the man’s hand. Ian thought he made a grave
error when Mason went stiff.

“I’m sorry,” Ian quickly said. He knew better than to take liberties

with a dominant male. He feared he messed their friendship up by
pushing beyond the lines of what was acceptable among friends.

Mason relaxed, wrapping his arms around Ian. “No worries.”
Ian’s eyes fluttered closed when Mason laid a chaste kiss on the

top of his head. He wanted more. Ian craved to have the right person
guiding him, taking over his life.

He wasn’t sure Mason was the right person, even though he had

asked the man to be his Master.

Tilting his head back, Ian studied Mason’s strong features. His

dazzling blue eyes seemed to draw Ian in, making him ready to beg
Mason to do something, anything to relieve the building pressure
inside of him.

His heart once again began to beat faster when Mason grazed

Ian’s lips with his own. He wasn’t sure what this meant. Ian wasn’t
foolish enough to believe Mason really wanted him.

It could be the intense situation that was pulling them together.

Ian wasn’t sure, but he opened, allowing Mason to slide his tongue
inside Ian’s mouth, giving himself to the strong man.

He whimpered when Mason’s fingers tightened in Ian’s hair,

giving the strands a slight tug as teeth and tongues collided. Never

Rise to Submit

before had Ian been kissed like this. It was powerful, possessive, and
made Ian’s stomach flutter with nervous butterflies.

Scooting a bit closer, Ian tilted his head, opening wider as Mason

drove his tongue deep.

Ian damn near cried when Mason pulled back, staring down at Ian

and giving him a small smile. Ian rested his head against Mason’s
chest, licking the taste of Mason from his lips, and sighing at the
power that was wrapped around him, wishing to the gods he could
burrow inside of it forever.

* * * *

Nate checked his clip and cursed. There was no way he and

Selene could hold the Breed Hunters off much longer with such little
ammo. They had to think of another way out of this mess.

He glanced over at Selene who was pinned down behind some

barrels, keeping her head low as the Breed Hunters shot at them.

Her chartreuse eyes locked with his, and Nate knew things

weren’t good on her end either. They were both low on bullets, but it
seemed their enemy had plenty.

As he stared at her, Nate knew he couldn’t let her die here. There

was no way either of them was dying here. Even though Rick—in his
glorious nuclear meltdown—had told Selene and Sasha that he was
attracted to them, Nate hadn’t said it yet, and he’d be damned if he
was going to die without telling her himself.

He just wished he hadn’t run from the Yukon and left his phone

behind. Calling for backup would come in real fucking handy right
about now.

Selene’s cell phone lay in a broken mess on the road about a mile

back. Neither could call for help.

They were so screwed.
“Come on out, animals. I promise to make your deaths quick,”

one of the men shouted.

94 Lynn

Hagen

Nate rolled his eyes. “Be a little more original and I just might

consider your offer.”

Selene glared at him.
Nate winked at her and smiled.
Selene shook her head and then turned, pressing her back into one

of the barrels.

“You want me to sweet-talk you out of there?” the man chided

from across the steelyard.

“Just as long as I don’t have to kiss your ugly face,” Nate shouted

back.

Selene glared at him.
No sense of humor.
“Oh, I have something you can kiss. It comes with a bullet, too.”
There. Nate spun from behind the Bobcat and fired, hitting center

mass, and then spun back behind the large piece of equipment.

Idiot. Didn’t the guy know Nate was only trying to get the man to

talk to pinpoint his location?

Amateurs.
A hail of bullets shot past, around, and over Nate. He was trying

his best to keep the gunfire away from Selene. She would be pissed if
she knew that.

The woman was too damn stubborn for her own good.
Nate’s heart thumped in his chest when Selene whirled from the

barrels, began shooting toward the Breed Hunters, and then skidded
behind the Bobcat.

“Are you fucking nuts?” he asked her with a growl as the bullets

continued to fly.

“I have to be since I’m partnered with you.”
“I was trying to figure out where he was standing. What in the hell

was that stunt you just pulled?”

She snorted as she checked her clip. “Don’t you dare get all

macho on me. I’m not an enforcer for nothing. Now stop bitching at
me and let’s get out of here.”

Rise to Submit

God, Nate was getting turned on by her hard-core attitude. She

was everything a guy could want in a woman.

She carried a gun.
How sexy was that?
“I spotted some propane tanks where they were standing,” Selene

continued, either ignoring his lust or unaware of how hard he was.
“That’s what that little stunt was for.”

“I have about seven bullets,” Nate replied.
“Five,” Selene said.
“Then we have a dozen bullets between us to blow those tanks.”
Selene nodded and then they both rose from behind the Bobcat,

shooting and praying the plan worked.

96 Lynn

Hagen

Chapter Eleven

Rick watched Benito and Miguel walk up the driveway, devilish

grins on their faces.

“You two were supposed to be back an hour ago. I was about to

send Freedman and Sasha to look for you.” He moved down the steps
of the back porch, eyeing them both. “Did you check the town out?”

Miguel nodded. “Yep. All is well. No Breed Hunters or other

nasty groups in sight.”

Rick eyed them both. He could see happy little sparks in their

eyes, sparks that only a man had when he got lucky. “Okay, spill.”

Benito bit his bottom lip and snickered as Miguel tossed his arm

over his cousin’s shoulder. “Well, you know how we heard that there
are some humans who view us as rock stars?”

Rick was not liking where this was going. “Yeah, but I haven’t

heard anything about it since the war started. Did you two—”

“Hell, yes!” Miguel laughed as he pulled his arm from around

Benito’s neck and high-fived the man. “We scored with some very
feisty fans.”

As mad as Rick wanted to be that they were doing other things

besides scouting out the town, he chuckled at the two when they
couldn’t stop grinning. “Tell me you didn’t let them know who you
were.”

That would be bad. Real bad. If anyone found out there was a

Rebellion group nearby, shit would hit the fan, and fast. Rick didn’t
want the people with him to turn into spinsters, but he had to make
sure they were extremely careful. Benito and Miguel were young, and
Rick remembered the days when he was…well, a little feisty himself.

Rise to Submit

“Nah,” Miguel answered.
“I was Nick and Miguel was Fred,” Benito quickly blurted out.

“We didn’t say a word, alpha. The only thing we did was let them
know we were changeling and the next thing Fred and I knew, they
were all over us.”

Rick laughed. “It sounds like you had a good time.”
Benito blushed. “The best in a long while.”
Miguel sobered as he glanced over at Rick. “We didn’t mean to

take so long. Sorry about worrying you. I would have called, but—”

“We were too busy getting lucky,” Benito cut Miguel off as he

chuckled. “Sorry, but it’s been a while.” The man curled his lips in,
his eyes darting everywhere but at Rick.

“Well, as long as you took care of our business first and no harm

came. Send a damn text next time.”

“Yeah, kinda wasn’t thinking about—”
Miguel slapped a hand over Benito’s mouth.
“You have our word,” he said and then glared at Benito.
Benito just shrugged.
“I have to talk to both of you about something,” Rick said as he

waved a hand toward the back of the house, looking down the
driveway and scanning the area before he headed toward the porch.

“Are you about to yell at us?” Benito asked.
“He just said as long as we’re responsible it’s cool,” Miguel

answered. “Chill out before you end up pissing the man off and then
we won’t be allowed to scout anymore.”

“That’s a part of what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Miguel glanced at Rick. “So then, we are in trouble?”
“No,” Rick replied. “I wanted to let both of you know that I’ve

noticed how you two have stepped up with your responsibilities. You
have not only proven yourselves, but I think it’s time you were given
your place in our pack.”

Miguel and Benito both looked stunned as they stared at Rick.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Miguel asked.

98 Lynn

Hagen

“I am,” Rick replied as he took a seat on the top step. “I am

officially making you both enforcers. You’ll start at the bottom of the
rank, but I’m pretty damn sure that you two will be up there with Nate
and Selene in no time.”

Both Miguel and Benito dropped to one knee, placing both hands

on their right knee as they bowed their heads. Rick stood, walking
down to them. He stopped, staring first at Miguel’s bowed head, and
then Benito’s. It would have been nice to have the entire pack to
witness the two finally finding their place. It was always a cause for
great celebration.

But Rick knew that was not going to happen, which saddened

him. If anyone deserved to have their rite of passage recognized, it
was these two. Rick had watched them over the past four years grow
into two strong men, changing from goofy adolescents to the men
who were bowing before him today.

He just wished like hell Miguel’s parents could have been here.
“Do you Miguel Vargas and Benito Morales swear your

allegiance to Alpha Enrique Marcelo of the Shelton werewolf
changeling pack?”

“I do.”
“I do.”
Rick saw Sasha, Omar, and Dorian come to the door, watching.

Even Freedman and Bryson were peeking out from the kitchen
window.

“And do you Miguel Vargas and Benito Morales swear to uphold

your duties as pack enforcers, to honor your alpha, and to protect and
defend him and his mate with your lives?”

“I do.”
“I do.”
“As new members of my enforcement unit, your duties will come

before your own personal needs. You are swearing to protect any and
all pack members when the need arises and use force to keep them
safe if necessary. You both are accepting the responsibilities that

Rise to Submit

come with defending the pack, agreeing to all orders given by any
higher member, and engaging in any and all things necessary to
ensure the pack’s health and well-being. Do you accept these
responsibilities?”

“I do.”
“I do.”
“Stand.”
Miguel and Benito stood, each raising their right hand, palm up,

baring their wrist. Rick took Miguel’s first, biting into the soft flesh,
sealing Miguel’s oath.

Benito’s hand was slightly trembling when Rick reached for his.

He bit down into Benito’s wrist, sealing the man’s oath as well.

“You have given me your blood oath, and only death will release

you from your obligations.”

Miguel and Benito whooped as they high-fived each other,

grinning like loons.

“I think we need to run off and get laid more often,” Benito

teased.

“No,” Rick said as he turned to walk up the steps. “Now that you

are enforcers, dereliction of duty will be severely punished.” Rick
wasn’t trying to be an asshole, but he needed the two men to know
just how serious Rick took the oaths given to him.

Not only that, the two had taken a huge risk by letting their guards

down. He still wasn’t trying to turn them into spinsters, but now that
they held their new positions—and considering they were newbies—
Rick had to be harsher with them than other pack members. Miguel
and Benito were now setting examples.

He walked into the house to see his mate grinning. “It’s about

time.”

“Lord help us,” Sasha grumbled. “The juvies are now enforcers.”
Rick chuckled as he pulled Dorian into his arms. “They have

proven themselves ten times over, but I had to wait until the time was
right. They got their little fun time in. Now it’s back to business.

100 Lynn

Hagen

Speaking of,”—Rick turned to Sasha—“have you heard from Nate or
Selene?”

It worried the shit out of Rick that neither was answering their

phones. He wasn’t sure where to start looking. Edward had sent them
his way, but there was no telling which route they had taken or how
far they had gotten.

“Nothing yet,” Sasha replied. Rick could scent the man’s worry.

* * * *

“I’m glad you made them enforcers,” Dorian said as he walked

into the bedroom after his hot shower. “If anyone deserves it, they
do.”

Rick was standing at the dresser, taking his watch off. “I agree.

They have proven themselves many times over. Normally, it takes a
very long time before a changeling proves his strength and worth as
an enforcer. But Miguel and Benito have been put in strenuous
circumstances and have gone above and beyond to show they have
what it takes.”

Dorian dropped the towel to the floor, feeling a bit frisky. “Do

you have what it takes?”

“For what?” Rick asked as he turned, and then his eyes slowly slid

down Dorian’s body. “I think I do.” Rick’s voice came out in a low
rumble that had Dorian’s cock thickening in anticipation. He couldn’t
disguise his body’s reaction and didn’t want to.

Standing there allowing Rick to openly ogle him was turning

Dorian on. “Then you’ll have to show me, Mr. Marcelo.”

He could see Rick’s nostrils flaring, knowing his mate loved it

when Dorian called him that. Rick covered the distance between them
and pulled Dorian into his arms, his lips pressing close to Dorian’s
ear. “Say it again.”

“You are such a kinky bastard.” Dorian chuckled and then

groaned when Rick wrapped his fingers around Dorian’s hard cock.

Rise to Submit

101

“Say it.”
Dorian began to pant. “Show me, Mr. Marcelo.”
One big hand rubbed the rounded globe of Dorian’s ass as the

other massaged his shaft. “Get on the bed while I get undressed,
gatito.”

Hell, Rick didn't have to tell him twice. Dorian pulled from Rick’s

thick body as he hurried over toward the bed, jumped up onto the
mattress, and rolled to his stomach. He propped his chin on his hands
as he lay there and watched his mate seductively strip for him.

Rick pulled his shirt over his head, flexing his pecs for Dorian,

knowing how much Dorian loved to see the man’s muscles ripple. He
licked his lips, teasing Rick with his tongue as the werewolf ran his
hand down his abdomen, running his fingers just under the waistband.

Dorian could see the outline of Rick’s erection through his jeans

and his own hard shaft pulsed at the sight. Dorian ground his cock
into the bed, wishing Rick would hurry, and praying he took his time.

It was like a sweet, slow torture that Dorian was enjoying.
Rick twisted his wrist and the snap on his jeans was undone.

Dorian’s eyes were glued to the man’s groin, waiting anxiously to see
his mate’s cock exposed.

Dorian kicked his feet up, crossing them at the ankles, grinding

his cock further into the bed. “Come on already, show me the prize.”

Rick’s chuckle was deep, sensuous, and downright evil. His

lowered the zipper, but only a fraction. “You want to see this?”

Dorian swallowed when he saw the head of Rick’s cock poking

out from the man’s underwear. His mouth watered for a taste of the
glistening pre-cum sliding down the bulbous head. “Hell, yeah.”

Reaching behind him, Dorian traced his crease, giving Rick a

show of his own. Two could play at this naughty game. His mate’s
eyes immediately zeroed in on Dorian’s fingers as it sank down
between his cheeks to play at his hole.

“I thought I was giving you a show?” Rick asked, his eyes turning

to liquid fire.

102 Lynn

Hagen

Dorian gave him a wicked grin. “You are. I’m merely touching

myself as I watch you. You have that kind of effect on me, Mr.
Marcelo.”

Sinking his finger into his ass, Dorian inwardly chuckled when

Rick’s hand faltered, and then the man was shoving his jeans down
his legs, kicking them aside.

Now all the man had to do was get rid of his damn underwear and

Dorian could ogle Rick’s muscled body unhindered.

It seemed the man knew this, because he walked to the bed,

underwear still securely around his waist.

Dorian was going to shoot the guy.
There was teasing, and then there was outright torture. Being

tortured was fun, but only for a little while. His cock was so hard and
heavy that Dorian was done playing. He wanted to be fucked hard and
fast.

Pumping his finger in and out of his ass, Dorian gave Rick a

worthy show. He moaned, his breath hitched, and then he began to
hump the bed.

With his heart racing—because finger-fucking himself was

driving Dorian close to climax—he tucked his knees under his chest,
showing Rick just what he wanted.

And there went the underwear.
Dorian nearly laughed with satisfaction. He had won this round.

Rick palmed his cock, smacking Dorian on the chin with the head.
“You don’t play fair, gatito.”

Dorian tried to follow the cock with his mouth, but Rick had other

ideas. He strode around the bed and climbed on, settling behind
Dorian.

“I never play fair when you are taking too damn long,” he replied

and then bit his bottom lip when Rick’s lubed finger joined his. The
pleasure was almost agonizing.

Rise to Submit

103

“I’ll have to remember that,” Rick said right before he leaned

forward and nipped Dorian’s ass cheek. Dorian yelped, but instead of
moving away, he pressed his ass into Rick’s mouth.

The man did have a magical mouth, after all.
Dorian gave a throaty moan when Rick teased him with his lips.

They slid down Dorian’s cheek and then began to kiss at his hole.
Maybe he didn’t win this round like he thought because Rick was
back to torturing him all over again.

“Okay, I give. Will you fuck me already?”
His skin vibrated as Rick gave a light chuckle. Thank heavens the

man pulled his fingers free. If Dorian had to wait much longer, he just
might come all over the bed.

Dorian’s ass clenched and pulsed when he felt Rick’s cock

pressing at his hole. He was damn near ready to weep with joy.

But instead of shouting in relief, Dorian gasped and moaned as the

thick length of Rick’s cock entered him, stretching him wide and
sliding in deep.

They both shuddered.
As good as Rick felt seated inside of him, Dorian couldn’t wait

any longer. His body was teetering close to the edge already. He
began to buck his hips, driving Rick’s cock harder into the soft flesh
of his ass, grinding against the man.

“My wild, little gatito,” Rick murmured as he matched Dorian’s

hard thrusts, one hand spanning over Dorian’s hip, the other pulling at
Dorian’s shoulder, driving Dorian’s ass harder onto Rick’s cock.

Dorian was bucking under Rick, feeling the man’s steel shaft

pounding into his ass. Dorian reached down and pumped his cock to
Rick’s thrusts, determined to get off.

“Rick—” Dorian’s plea was a hard gasp, a breathless moan as his

hand stroked his cock harder and he bit hard into his bottom lip.

“Come for me, gatito,” Rick said, growling the words out in a

feral tone. It seemed Dorian wasn’t the only one who was close.

104 Lynn

Hagen

Moving his hand faster, Dorian cried out when Rick drove into his

ass at lightning speed. His mate’s cock pegged his sweet spot over
and over again, making Dorian damn near pass out from pleasure.

His body arched, his hand jerked, and Dorian saw a thousand stars

as his orgasm ripped through him. The pulsating pleasure overtook his
mind, making Dorian mumble incoherent words.

Rick pushed Dorian’s upper half to the bed and then covered

Dorian’s back with his chest, sinking his canines deep into Dorian’s
shoulder.

Oh hell, he really was going to pass out.
Rick pounded into him like a wild man, and then he stiffened,

grunting around Dorian’s shoulder as Dorian’s ass was filled with the
man’s seed.

The only thing Dorian could do at this point was collapse to the

bed and pray he relearned how to breathe.

Rick slid his softening cock from Dorian’s ass and nestled beside

him.

As Dorian lay there, his body still humming from his spectacular

orgasm, he began to think about everything going on in his life. They
had been on the run for months now, running from one place to the
next, always looking over their shoulder, and wondering every second
if they were going to be caught or killed.

Deep down inside, Dorian felt a slight crack begin inside of him.

It was tiny, a minute fracture, but Dorian had a feeling the crack was
going to grow.

His life had been mundane before all of this happened, and even

though he had risen up to the fight, a man could only take so much of
living a life-and-death situation on a daily basis.

Dorian just feared the day when he finally broke.

* * * *

Rise to Submit

105

Benito frowned when Miguel took a seat on the step, wiping at the

tears in his eyes with the back of his hand. Seeing his cousin cry was
extremely rare. “This is a happy occasion. Why are you crying,
Miguel?”

Miguel smiled up at Benito, but the tears were still falling. “They

would have been proud of me, you know? My dad talked of this day
ever since I turned eighteen. It’s just that they should have been here
to witness me becoming a man, finding my place in the pack. I’ve
dreamed of being an enforcer since I was little, and now that I am, I
feel cheated that they couldn’t watch our alpha blood oath us.”

Benito took a seat next to Miguel on the step, scenting the sadness

and pain in his cousin. “I miss them as well. I can’t even remember
my parents, and yours were always there for me. I would have loved
for them to see this day for both of us.”

Miguel wiped at his eyes again. “I miss the way my mom used to

hug me and tell me she loved me. I miss the way my dad used to let
me work alongside of him when he did the house repairs or just
prattled in the garage with small projects.” Miguel wiped both eyes
this time. “I just miss them so much, Benito.”

Benito pulled Miguel into his arms, hugging him tightly. “I love

you, Miguel. I wish I could give them back to you, but I can’t. The
only thing I can offer is that I will always be by your side and that
you’ll never be alone.”

Miguel pushed Benito away, smiling and then laughing. “We’re

enforcers now. No damn crying.”

“No crying,” Benito repeated as he kissed Miguel on the cheek

and then yelped, jumping up as his cousin chased him down with a
look that said Benito was going to pay for the stolen affection.

106 Lynn

Hagen

Chapter Twelve

“Try the strawberries.” Mason pointed to Ian’s plate with his fork.

“They’re fresh.” He knew Ian wasn’t hungry, but Mason wasn’t about
to let the man wither away to nothing. He already looked like he was
just one step away as it were.

He thought about the kiss they’d shared, and Mason could feel

himself getting hard. He knew he shouldn’t have kissed the man. Ian
wasn’t in the right frame of mind to have anything with Mason, let
alone a relationship.

But he just couldn’t bring himself to regret what they had shared.

Although he knew he needed to tread carefully where Ian was
concerned.

“I’m full,” Ian complained as he pushed the food around on his

plate with his fork.

Mason decided to fall back on their friendship. It would be a lot

easier for Ian to deal with than complicated emotions. “Dude, you ate
like three bites of your eggs. Eat the fruit.”

Mason could hear a small grunt in the back of Ian’s throat, but the

man picked up the strawberry and popped it into his mouth.

Pressing his back into the dresser, Mason settled his plate onto his

lap. “So, tell me,” Mason began and saw Ian visibly stiffen, “what
kind of things do you like to get into?”

Ian relaxed.
“You thought I was about to ask about the club.” Mason called Ian

on his assumption. “Don’t worry. Unless you’re willing to talk, I’m
not going to badger you.”

Rise to Submit

107

Ian grabbed another strawberry and shoved it into his mouth.

Mason was determined to get the man to eat everything on his plate.
The guy chewed and then pushed the fruit around. “I used to draw a
lot. My teachers said I had real talent.”

“Really?” Mason chided him. “I can draw a mean stick figure, but

if you ask me to sketch something, it would probably turn out to look
like a child’s drawing. Hmm,”—Mason paused—“I think a child’s
drawing might even trump mine.”

A small smile tilted at Ian’s lips. “I’m pretty good at faces. I’ve

been told I can capture what the person is feeling in my drawings.”

Mason screwed his face up, crossing his eyes and sticking out his

tongue. “Can you capture this?”

Ian laughed.
Mason’s heart melted. The man had no idea how truly stunning he

was when he smiled. The cobalt burst into rays of spectacular
sparkles, and his face seemed even more handsome.

“Dork. What about you? What do you like getting into?” Ian

plucked another strawberry into his mouth and ate it, pleasing Mason
to no end.

“Cars,” Mason replied. “I love working on them. My father

thought it was a waste of time. He said a mechanic was better suited
for the job.” Mason shrugged. “I disagreed. There was just something
about getting under the hood or crawling underneath the body that
calmed me. I wanted to go to school to learn how to take a car apart
and put it back together, but my father…” Mason trailed off, feeling
the anger rising inside of him.

“What did he want you to do?”
“Deny who I was and take over the company someday.” There

was no way in hell Mason could sit in the high tower of Sellers
Pharmaceuticals and attend board meetings all day. It wasn’t him. He
wasn’t lying to Ian about his love of cars. Mason had always wanted
to get into a restoration project, but his father wouldn’t hear of it. It
pissed him off that the man was the way he was.

108 Lynn

Hagen

And of course, he hadn’t got past the fact that the man had tried to

blow him up. He wasn’t sure he ever would. Just how did a guy go
about getting over the fact that his father wanted him dead?

“What company?” Ian asked, forking some eggs and shoveling

them into his mouth. Taking Ian’s mind off of his problems seemed to
be the key to getting the guy to relax. Mason would keep that in mind.
But he could see the dark circles under the man’s eyes. He knew Ian
couldn’t stay awake forever and prayed someone answered their call
about a dream walker.

“Sellers Pharmaceuticals.”
Ian frowned. “I’ve heard that name before.”
Mason nodded as he polished his food off and set the plate aside.

“They are a pretty big company.”

“No.” Ian shook his head. “I’ve heard that name mentioned…you

know.”

Mason gave a noise of disgust. “I wouldn’t put it past my father to

make shady-ass deals to ensure his company thrived. He tried to blow
up the college I attended…while I was still there.”

Ian gaped at Mason. “Why?”
“Because I wouldn’t deny who I was. Even when the hate groups

had come after our pack and killed two females, my father still
wouldn’t come to their defense. He fears being outed as a changeling
and losing his mass fortune and company.” Mason was determined to
bring his father down. The man was scum, and Mason was going to
be there when his father lost it all.

“He killed his competitor’s son,” Mason continued. “His brilliant

plan was that if he made it look like changelings blew up the college,
then the father who owned Dyson Pharmaceuticals would be so
distraught about losing his only son that he would sink all of his
resources into funding the Breed Hunters. My father knew Jacob
Dyson would avenge his son’s death. But his plan was that eventually
Jacob would go broke, leaving Sellers Pharmaceuticals as the leading

Rise to Submit

109

pharmaceutical company in the nation. Talk about an uncaring
bastard.”

“But you didn’t die.”
“No, and that pisses my father off. He hates to fail. I still have

Breed Hunters looking for me to finish my father’s job. They have no
clue why he wants me dead, but enough money will make any person
turn a blind eye.”

Mason glanced down to see Ian’s plate was clean. “So, what else

do you like to do?” He had to get away from that morose subject
before he not only revved himself up, but made Ian depressed.

Ian shrugged. “I never really got into anything but drawing. I

wasn’t one of those guys who had friends to hang around. I liked
being by myself most of the time. It was better for me.”

“Because no one understood you?” Damn, Mason was trying to

steer away from touchy subjects, but it seemed they were determined
to be discussed.

“Pretty much,” Ian replied. “Not because I was gay. That never

came up when I was in school. I just—”

“Dude, it’s cool. So you checked out the jocks in school?” Mason

teased.

Ian blushed. “They were hot.”
“I always liked the geeks. There was something about the pencils

sticking out of their pocket protectors and the tape around their
glasses that always gave me a boner.”

Ian gaped at him.
Mason laughed. “Just kidding. Come on, let’s take these dishes

downstairs.” Mason stood and then glanced down at Ian. “Though
you might want to put on the clothes Omar brought you.”

Seeing Ian naked shouldn’t have affected Mason. He was a

changeling, used to nudity, but he was affected all right. If he was
going to help Ian get through all of this, then the man need to cover
his jewels.

110 Lynn

Hagen

Ian set his plate aside and crawled over to Mason. Hell if he had

ever seen anything that erotic before. Mason wasn’t sure what to say
or do as Ian settled on his knees, placing his hands on his thighs, and
lowering his head.

“Ian.”
He could see how badly the man was shaking. Mason reached out

and tucked a finger under the man’s chin, lifting Ian’s head. “Friends,
not master.”

Ian nodded, but Mason could see the need eating away at the

fragile human in front of him. He smoothed his hand over Ian’s
cheek, wondering if he could really have something with this man.

Ian scooted closer, his eyes fluttering closed as he nuzzled the

palm of Mason’s hand.

How in the hell was he supposed to combat his desire against

something as sensuous as this? Mason was a strong male, but even he
had his breaking point.

His eyes lowered and Mason could see that Ian was half hard. His

jaw clenched as he fought against taking the man. Ian wasn’t ready.
He was riddled with scars and was battling a vampire in his dreams.
Mason did the hardest thing in his life. “Get dressed, Ian.”

Ian opened his eyes and nodded. He stood and grabbed the lounge

pants Omar had left for him and slid them on. He could tell Ian wasn’t
used to wearing clothes because he pulled at the pants every few
seconds as they walked downstairs.

“Good,” Rick said as the two walked into the kitchen. “I need to

talk to you for a minute.”

Mason glanced at Ian.
“Sasha is on the back porch. He’ll be fine,” Rick said as he

walked from the room, Mason following.

* * * *

Rise to Submit

111

Ian placed the plates in the sink and then turned, seeing Dorian

standing by the table, his hands shoved into his front pockets. Their
eyes locked and all of a sudden there wasn’t enough air in the room.
Ian felt trapped, like he was being scrutinized as Dorian’s eyes
studied him closely, intently.

He was a junkie.
He was perverted.
He was worthless.
All of those feelings came to the forefront, so Ian countered them

and protected himself by taking the first verbal shot. “What, are you
trying to figure out how to start your sanctimonious speech?” Ian
might deserve the lecture of a lifetime, but Dorian was not about to
stand there and judge him. Dorian hated drug users. He never hid that
fact. Ian had heard the man say they were a waste of air, or some shit
like that.

But even if he couldn’t quote his brother word-perfect, he knew

how the man felt. Dorian was probably chomping at the bit to dress
Ian down.

He was just glad as hell his parents weren’t here. Ian could go toe

to toe with Dorian. But his parents? Not a chance in hell. One look
from his dad and Ian would feel like he had let the most important
person in the world down.

He had.
But Ian wasn’t going to think about that right now. He had enough

bullshit to worry about other than hearing his brother talk down to
him or think about what a loser son he was.

Like how he was going to stay awake forever and why he was

having such a strong attraction to Mason.

“No.” Dorian shook his head as he pulled his hands from his

pockets and crossed them over his chest. Fuck if Dorian didn’t look
like their father in that moment. Ian had to mentally remind himself
that it wasn’t his father, but his older brother. “I’m just trying to

112 Lynn

Hagen

figure you out, Ian. I can’t understand how I missed your depravities
when we both lived at home.”

Ian glanced away, feeling the shame wash over him like an arctic

wave. The warmth he had gained from his conversation with Mason
was gone, replaced by a chill of reality that was so profound, it was
bone deep.

“My heart goes out to you, Ian.”
Ian balled his fists at his sides, glaring daggers at Dorian as he

turned to look at the arrogant bastard. He spoke in an even,
deceptively calm tone, his jaw set. “Your heart?” he scoffed. “Fuck
your heart, you selfish bastard. This is my life, my sanity, and my
very future we’re talking about. If I have to choose between my
physical recovery and your heart, you’re screwed.” He finished his
statement in a heated shout, his outrage in his very tone. He had tried
to stay calm. But it seemed the longer he talked, the angrier he
became.

“That’s not what I meant!” Dorian shot back heatedly.
“I know what you meant,” Ian replied with piss-poor sarcasm,

keeping the hurt out of his tone. “Poor Ian, the junkie. He was such a
good boy growing up. I’ll never understand where he went so wrong,”
Ian finished with mockery of what he assumed Dorian was feeling.
“Fuck you, Dorian.”

“You know,” Dorian said as he moved closer, his eyes narrowing,

his look filled with anger. Ian had never before seen such anguish and
indignation toward him from Dorian. “I hated drug addicts until my
brother became one, and then I tried to understand. I really did. I
began to research it, looking up whatever I could so I could better
relate to what you were going through. I learned a lot, and my opinion
has changed, but how in the fuck can I ever understand your need to
be beaten?”

Ian shoved at Dorian, knocking him into the counter. He had to

stop himself from raising a fist to his brother. Everything that
Newman had done to him had built up in a hair’s breadth of a second,

Rise to Submit

113

almost making Ian want to tear at Dorian to stop the pain. “You think
I like to get beaten?” He shouted the question into Dorian’s face,
spittle flying. “You think I like those monsters touching me?”

“What the fuck have you shown me, Ian? You just up and

disappear one day, and then I find you in a BDSM club. The vampire
that runs the joint tells me you come there regularly to get beaten up
and get high!” Dorian slammed his fists into the counter behind him,
and Ian could see the worry and horror in the man’s brown eyes.
“Then when I shoot a fucking vampire repeatedly to get you out of
there, you take off again! And where do you go, right back to that
damn club. So tell me, Ian. What in the hell am I supposed to think?”

Ian slapped his hand into Dorian’s chest, wanting to hurt Dorian,

wanting to hug Dorian, and just wanting his brother back. “You could
have asked me!”

“When?” Dorian shouted just as loudly. “When could I have

asked you? I couldn’t find you to ask you. You call me a selfish
bastard, but you’re the one who was hiding in a club and getting high
while Mom, Dad, and I worried our heads off about you.”

“If you were so worried about me, then why did you dump me on

strangers?” Some of the fight left Ian as he asked the one question that
had haunted him for months. He felt as though Dorian had stopped
loving him. Ian had begun to believe his older brother—the man he
had always looked up to—was washing his hands of Ian.

And that hurt more than Dorian would ever know.
“Dump you?” Dorian asked. “I didn’t dump you on strangers, Ian.

That couple was part of Rick’s pack. Rick and I were on the run for
our lives, and I didn’t want you hurt if we kept you with us. I thought
I was helping you. I thought I was keeping you safe. Kraven sent
Mãos da Morte

after us. There was no way I could have fought them

and kept them from killing you, or worse, taking you back.”

“He sent his

Mãos da Morte after you?” Ian asked in a whisper

filled with horror. He had heard the vampires talking about the Mãos
da Morte. There was no way to escape them. There was nowhere to

114 Lynn

Hagen

hide. The boogeymen of the nonhuman world killed without remorse,
or before the person even knew they were about to die.

“Yeah, but he was using them to find our location. I think if they

were there to kill us, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

“I—” There was so much Ian wanted to say, but didn’t know if he

had the courage to say it. He wanted Dorian to know how he became
addicted. He wanted his brother to know that he didn’t like to get
beaten.

But most of all, he wanted to know if Dorian still loved him.
Dorian cupped his face, tilting Ian’s head back and staring into his

eyes. “Just tell me what to do to help you, Ian. Just tell me what I
have to do to get my brother back.”

If only it were that easy. Ian was never what Dorian thought he

was. He had needs that would probably make his older brother turn
his back on Ian. But there was one truth he could share. “I don’t like
to get beaten,” he admitted. “It was their sick game to play with me in
order for me…” Ian trailed off, his anger and courage leaving him, the
shame coming back and making it impossible for Ian to finish his
sentence.

Dorian pulled Ian into his arms, and Ian held on for dear life. “I’m

so sorry,” he whispered as the eternal anguish he had been living with
for so long filled him again.

“Shhh, we’ll get through this. We’ll find a way to get you clean

and keep you that way. I may have been angry with you, but I never
gave up on you, Ian. I would never give up on you.”

Ian was beginning to see that he wasn’t as alone as he thought he

was. First Mason had pledged his friendship, promising Ian to always
be there for him, and now Dorian. Ian wrapped his arms around
Dorian’s waist, curling his fingers into his brother’s shirt as he cried.

“What about Dad and Mom?” Ian asked.
Dorian gave a small laugh. “Believe it or not, Dad was on your

side. He told me not to judge you unless I knew about the BDSM
lifestyle.”

Rise to Submit

115

Ian was shocked. “He did?”
“Yeah,” Dorian replied. “I won’t say I understand whatever need

it is you have, but I’ll try. I’ll honestly try. But please don’t let me see
you tied up and whatever else it is you like.” Dorian shuddered and
then smiled.

“I–I don’t know what I like,” Ian confessed into Dorian’s

shoulder. “But I promise to never let you know.”

“Good,” Dorian said as he pulled back and then slung his arm

over Ian’s shoulder. “And promise you’ll fight this addiction.”

“I’m trying,” Ian answered honestly, biting his lower lip and

glancing toward the kitchen door. He knew Mason was close by. How
he knew, he wasn’t sure, but he did.

“Go away, you nosey bastards,” Dorian shouted.
“So,” Ian began, “you’re mated?”
Dorian rolled his eyes. “Don’t even ask. You wouldn’t believe me

if I told you what has been going on for the past four and a half
months.”

“I’d like to hear it,” Ian confessed.
“Someday.” Dorian pulled his arm free. “But right now I think

there is an anxious jaguar waiting to get you back.”

Ian’s eyes snapped toward the kitchen door again to see Mason

standing there, looking powerful as hell as his eyes locked onto Ian.

Everyone’s head snapped up when Sasha came rushing through

the back door, his face a mask of rage. “Time to go, people.”

“Not again,” Dorian said as he sighed.
“What?” Ian asked, panic filling him. Had the vampires found

them? Was Newman showing up in person to finish Ian off? He had
thought the man wanted information, something Ian was not going to
give him.

“My guess,” Dorian said to Ian, “is that Breed Hunters are close

by.”

“Mason filled me in on a lot of things, but I have a feeling he left

a lot out.”

116 Lynn

Hagen

“Did not,” Mason defended. “I just gave you the condensed

version.”

“I’ll fill you in when he leaves,” Dorian promised.
Ian felt better now that Dorian was talking to him again. But the

shame of what he had allowed himself to go through was still riding
him hard, and he knew he had a long road to travel before he could
call himself officially clean.

And secretly, even though Dorian promised to try and understand

Ian’s needs, he knew his brother would never understand the hungers
that ate away at Ian. He wanted a life that Dorian would probably
never understand.

Hell, Ian didn’t half understand it himself.
But the feeling of being a sick, twisted, perverted fuck still lived

inside of him. The only thing that mattered right now was that Dorian
was talking to him.

He had lived with his sick depravities for so long that Ian was

used to the haunting feeling. He would shove them down and try his
best to forget about them.

Even if that meant he would live a lie.
Ian’s eyes widened when Mason growled, moving closer to Ian

and Dorian. He didn’t understand what Mason was doing until a tall
stranger walked into the back door, his broad shoulders filling the
frame and the tattoo around his eye and temple giving off a menacing
vibe.

His dark eyes flickered between the three of them before he asked,

“Where is Enrique Marcelo?”

Rise to Submit

117

Chapter Thirteen

Mason moved closer to Ian and Dorian. He didn’t know who the

stranger was and could scent that he was changeling, but Mason
wasn’t taking any chances.

Sasha walked back into the kitchen, Rick and Freedman close

behind him. “Did I fucking tell you that you could come in, Loki?”
Sasha snarled.

“You didn’t tell me to wait outside,” the stranger replied.
Sasha was in the man’s face in under a second, his claws extended

from his fingertips. Mason had never seen anyone move so fast in his
life, and he was changeling.

“I don’t mix words or play head games. The next time you come

near my group, your entrails will be spilling to the floor before you
even notice I’m standing in front of you.”

Mason glanced at Rick to see what the alpha was going to do

about Sasha’s claim, but Rick said nothing. He stood there looking
just as menacing as Sasha. Never before had Mason seen two alphas
working together like this.

It was amazing, and strange as hell.
Mason’s eyes shot to Freedman when the human gasped. The

soldier’s eyes were fixed on the door as another weretiger walked in.

“Henderson?” Freedman said the name as if he couldn’t believe

what he was seeing.

Neither could Mason. Henderson was supposed to be dead. The

former leader of the now-dead Death Squad had claimed he killed
Henderson for betraying the Death Squad and warning Rick about
what was going on.

118 Lynn

Hagen

Henderson silently stood there, as if he were trying to figure out

who Freedman was. The man stood close to Loki who had walked in,
as if protecting him.

“How in the hell are you alive? Middleton said he killed you.”
Henderson’s eyes flickered to the man standing in front of him,

and then he looked at Freedman. “Loki tells me that I was left for
dead and that the weretigers found me and converted me to save my
life.”

Freedman was grinning from ear to ear as he moved closer, but

Henderson’s scowl stopped him dead in his tracks. “What is wrong
with you? We’re best friends. Why are you acting like I’m your
enemy?”

Loki held his hand up. “Nicholas suffered brain damage when he

was injured. Even after his conversion, things aren’t what they should
be. The only reason we learned his name was from the wallet he had
on him with his military ID tucked inside.”

Freedman looked astonished, and then his jaw clenched firmly.

“We were best friends, Henderson. Please tell me you remember
that?” He sounded desperate, pleading with a man who couldn’t
remember who he was.

Henderson gave a slight shake of his head. Mason could scent the

anguish coming off of Freedman. “I killed the Death Squad,”
Freedman said with vehemence. “I avenged your death—injuries,”
Freedman corrected.

“We came to tell you that the Breed Hunters are showing up in

droves. Something tipped them off. My pack is heading out. You men
should do the same,” Loki said.

“But what about Nate and Selene?” Sasha asked as he turned to

Rick. “They’ll be coming here to look for us.”

“Then we leave a message only the two will understand,” Rick

replied. “I’ll leave word with my brother-in-law in case he hears from
them.”

Rise to Submit

119

Mason noticed how Rick left Edward’s name out of the

conversation.

Loki nodded. “Get ready to move out. My pack will lead them

away from you, but I don’t know if any will stay behind and try to
hunt you down.”

“Thanks,” Rick replied.
Loki and Henderson began to walk back outside.
“Henderson,” Freedman called. The man looked back at

Freedman, and Mason knew without a doubt that Henderson knew
who Freedman was. He could see it in the guy’s eyes.

Freedman cocked his head slightly, and Mason could tell that the

man had figured the same thing out. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

Henderson nodded and walked out.
“Why would he pretend not to know me?” Freedman asked when

the two men were gone.

“My guess would be to keep you safe,” Rick replied. “From what,

I’m not sure.”

Mason didn’t have time to help them figure it out. “We need to

move out.” He guided Ian upstairs, and then Mason packed. He
noticed a few more items of clothing lying on the bed and knew Omar
had left them for Ian.

He grabbed the shirt and socks, tossing them to Ian. “Put those

on.”

“Where are we going to go?” Ian quickly dressed as Mason

shoved his clothes in a duffel bag.

Mason wanted to tell the truth. He already knew the next place

they were headed, but Sasha’s warning ran through his mind. Ian
needed to buy time with whoever was attacking him. So Mason lied.
“South Carolina. We want to get as close to the White House as we
can.”

Ian looked shocked but said nothing as Mason walked them back

downstairs. Everyone was heading out of the back door.

“Keep your head low and stick by my side,” Mason warned.

120 Lynn

Hagen

Ian nodded.
Mason glanced around as he led Ian to the truck. He noticed

Benito and Miguel climbing in with Bryson. Sasha did as well.

That left Rick driving the truck, Freedman riding shotgun, Mason

and Ian in the backseat, and Omar and Dorian all the way in the back.

There were ten of them against who knew how many Breed

Hunters. Mason pulled his gun from the duffle bag and placed it
between him and the door.

Ian’s eyes widened.
“Teeth and claws won’t work in most situations with the Breed

Hunters. All of us became expert shooters.”

Ian’s head snapped back to Dorian. “You, too?”
Rick snorted. “The man sleeps with his gun.”
Bryson’s car pulled from the drive, Rick moving forward, and

then Rick slammed on the brakes. Mason’s head snapped up to see
what was going on.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Rick growled the words softly.
“Jayson,” Dorian snarled. “Run his ass over!”
That was going to be easier said than done considering the man

was in a large truck as well. The nose of the truck Mason and the rest
were in was facing the street. They were blocked in.

“Then let me shoot his ass!” Dorian began to move up front, but

Mason pushed him back.

“Slow down, Jesse James. If you haven’t noticed, he has a truck

full of people as well. We’re blocked in and have nowhere to go for a
shootout.”

Mason glanced at the truck in front of them to see Jayson smiling

at them with such evil intent and the cruelest smile that he knew they
would have no choice but to shoot their way out of this. Mason fell
back into his seat when Rick slammed on the gas, the tires spinning,
gravel shooting against the house, making it sound like machine guns
were sounding all around them.

Rick took to the grass, driving backward through the backyard.

Rise to Submit

121

“He’s gonna crash,” Ian said in panic as he scrambled to get up

from where he had fallen.

“Nah, he’s pretty damn good in reverse,” Dorian replied and then

looked between Mason and Ian. “But buckle up just in case.”

Ian scrambled to put his seat belt on as Mason leaned forward,

watching the large blue truck chase them down.

“Fucking hell!” Mason pushed Ian down to the seat as gunfire

erupted all around them. Reaching over, Mason lowered the window,
returning fire. He almost whooped when Bryson’s car skidded up
behind Jayson’s, evening out. Sasha’s blond hair was blowing in the
wind as he sat on the open window frame on the passenger’s side with
a rifle in his hand, firing into the blue truck from behind.

Benito and Miguel were hanging out of the window, their

handguns emptying into the truck as well.

Rick jerked the truck, damn near making Mason lose his gun.

They drove in a circle around the blue truck until they almost collided
with Bryson’s car.

“I thought you said he could drive backward!” Ian shouted,

covering his head with his hands as he bent as low as he could.

“That’s why I told you to buckle up,” Dorian said before he

pushed into the backseat, avoiding Mason’s flailing arm to get him
back where he was. The brat rolled the other window down,
crouching over Ian as he joined in the firefight.

“I had no idea my brother was so bloodthirsty,” Ian shouted at

Mason.

Mason rolled his eyes. “You have no idea.”
“Hold on!” Rick shouted as he jerked the truck once more,

spinning around until they were facing the back of the blue truck, and
then sped up, ramming directly into the back of it, knocking a few of
the Breed Hunters from the bed of the truck.

Bryson swung up beside Rick, Sasha aiming his gun at the back

tires, rapid fire damn near making Mason deaf.

122 Lynn

Hagen

“Remind me to never piss Sasha off,” Dorian said as he slid back

inside. “That man is lethal as fuck. Did you see his face? That’s some
scary-ass shit.”

“One more time,” Rick yelled at them. Mason threw himself onto

Ian as the truck made a bone-jarring impact with the truck in front of
them. Mason glanced up when he heard a whirring noise to see Rick
pushing the other truck toward the woods. Mason knew there was a
ravine close by. The drop-off wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Shit!” Rick shouted as he slammed on the brakes. The truck

lurched forward and then stopped, teetering. “Don’t move.”

“What’s wrong?” Omar asked from the back.
“We’re dangling over the edge,” Freedman answered in a

deceptively calm tone. “We need some serious weight in the back,
like yesterday.”

Ian screamed when the truck jerked. “Are we falling?”
Mason’s heart was in his throat as he curled his large frame

around Ian. If the truck plummeted to the ravine below, he was going
to try his damnedest to stop Ian from being injured.

“It’s Sasha and the others climbing on the back of the truck,” Rick

answered. Mason took a chance and moved slightly, looking over the
back of the seat. The hatch opened, Sasha climbing onto the back
bumper.

“One at a time. I need Mason out first since he is the heaviest,”

Sasha commanded.

“I’m not leaving Ian,” he replied.
“We need your weight to counterbalance this big-as-fuck truck,

Mason,” Sasha snapped at him.

“Fucking hurry,” Rick said from up front. “Not all the Breed

Hunters are dead. I have one very pissed-off human aiming his gun up
at me from below.”

“Go,” Ian said as he pushed at Mason. “I’ll be okay.”
Mason hesitated. “I promised to keep you safe.”
“You will when you put your fat ass on the back of the truck.”

Rise to Submit

123

“Fat ass?” Mason asked in astonishment.
“Now!” Sasha shouted.
Mason released Ian, staring into his light-blue eyes. “Don’t

fucking get hurt.” He placed a chaste kiss on Ian’s lips before moving
slowly, easing one leg over the back of the seat, and then the other.
He felt like he was leaving behind something very precious. If
anything happened to Ian because Mason left him, he would never
forgive himself. Omar inched his way to the back of the truck,
pressing his body together with Benito and Miguel’s, adding more
weight.

“Stand up on the bumper,” Sasha said as he pointed to the spot

next to him. “The others don’t have enough weight to hold this truck.
It’s basically you and me.”

Mason nodded, gripping the hatch as he secured his booted feet

onto the black bumper.

“Okay, Rick, you’re the next biggest. I need you to crawl—”
“Wait,” Mason growled. “You said Ian could be next.”
“I need the large men out of there. Freedman and Rick are sitting

up front. Their weight is pressing the truck forward. We are turning
this truck into a teeter-totter. We need more weight back here with
us.”

“But—”
“We’ll get him out, Mason.”
Mason glanced toward the backseat. Ian was still down because

Mason didn’t see him, but he could differentiate Ian’s smell from
everyone else’s and the man was scared shitless. He wanted to crawl
back inside and grab Ian, pulling him out to safety. But Sasha was
right. The heaviest men had to get out first or the truck was going to
take a nose dive.

Rick moved carefully, easing his way from the front seat. “Just so

you know, I fucking hate leaving knowing there are other pack
members in the truck. An alpha—”

124 Lynn

Hagen

“Should get his ass out here and help us rescue the others before

it’s too late,” Sasha finished for him. “Don’t you think I feel like shit
because I’m back here and there are still weaker members in the
truck? We do what we have to in order to keep them safe. Sometimes
we don’t like it, but it has to be done.”

Rick tightened his jaw and nodded, working his way over the

backseat. Mason saw him pause for a second, staring at Dorian. The
look was filled with so much love, so much emotion that Mason felt
his own chest tighten. They had to get everyone out. If something
happened to Ian and Dorian, Mason and Rick would never be the
same again.

Of course, they had to get Freedman out of there as well. The man

had risked his life to warn Rick multiple times about the Death Squad.
He had lost his best friend to the weretigers in order to send a
message to the alpha werewolf. They owed him a great debt.

And Mason liked Freedman. He was a no-nonsense guy, but cool

as hell.

Rick made it to the back.
“Freedman,” Sasha called just as pinging noises began to hit the

truck. Mason looked back to see the Breed Hunters who had fallen out
of their truck heading in the direction of the ravine, guns out, firing at
Mason and the others.

“Freedman, hurry!” Rick shouted. Freedman got up, moving as

quickly as he could to the back of the truck when the earth shifted and
the truck began to tip forward. Mason saw Freedman jumping onto
the men in the backseat just as Sasha shoved Mason off of the
bumper.

“No!” Rick and Mason shouted at the same time as the truck tilted

forward a little more, and then fell over the edge.

Rise to Submit

125

Chapter Fourteen

Rick’s heart was lodged in his gut as he spun around and began to

fire at the men descending on them. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t
breathe. A storm was brewing in his head, the fury mounting, and the
rage consuming.

He had not gone through all of this to lose his mate. Rick had not

fought for his species and battled through monumental odds to watch
his mate die. Dorian had been by his side from the beginning. The
man even stuck with him when Rick gave him the option to leave and
clear his name.

Dorian Campbell had taken a bullet for him and had protected

Rick with his life, picked up a gun when he never held one in his life
to save his brother. Shot a man in the face to keep them both alive.
His spine was made of steel and his heart was courageous.

If Dorian was dead, Rick was going to…he couldn’t breathe. All

he could see was Dorian’s face as the man smiled at him, or laughed,
making Rick’s heart lighter just from hearing the sound.

Dorian’s sigh.
Rick was not going to lose Dorian’s sigh. That sound kept Rick

sane. It kept him from feeling like there was no more hope left in a
world gone insane. That sigh colored the dark and murky days,
making Rick believe that this war wasn’t the only thing left in the
world. He listened for that sigh every night he went to sleep, every
stolen moment they shared together. It was the sound of a man he
loved more than his very own life.

He dropped his gun as his werewolf exploded from his body, and

then Rick took off, his body burning with a mixture of violence and

126 Lynn

Hagen

fear as the truck fell over the edge repeatedly in his mind. He ran
down the first man, grabbing him and pulling him from his feet as
Rick sank his teeth into the man’s throat and then furiously ripped it
out with such force that nothing remained but the spine.

His anger was unleashed, and these men would find no mercy.
These men stood in the way of Rick going to Dorian. These

savages had caused his mate to plummet over the edge.

They were all going to die.
“Go!” Sasha shouted at him. “We have this and you have a

shooter down below with our men.”

How in the hell could Rick forget about Jayson’s ravaged face as

he stared up at Rick, aiming his gun toward the front of the truck from
the ravine below?

He wasn’t sure how Jayson survived the fall when the man had

been sitting in the front seat, but he prayed his men had survived.
Rick raced as fast as he could, climbing down the embankment,
sliding through the dry earth, his breathing labored as he saw the front
of his truck smashed to hell.

Please let them still be alive.
He quickly scanned the area as he scented the air, but Jayson’s

scent was fading. The man had taken off. Rick couldn’t detect anyone
else that might pose a threat, so he raced toward the truck. It was
lying on the hood, upside down, but he could see Freedman crawling
out of the back window.

That was a good sign.
The human dropped to his knees and then reached inside the

truck, helping Ian get out.

“Dorian!” Rick called in his gravelly voice that was strained with

desperation. “Dorian!”

“I’m here,” his mate called as he pushed his way out of the truck.

The man stood, brushing himself off and looking a bit stunned, but he
was alive. Rick pulled Dorian into his arms and hugged his mate so

Rise to Submit

127

tightly that Dorian began smacking at Rick’s chest. “I’m fine, but you
are about to bust some ribs.”

Rick released him, running his furry hands over Dorian’s head,

feeling the relief wash over him as Peruvian-brown eyes stared up at
him. “Don’t you ever fucking scare me like that again.”

Dorian rolled his eyes, but there was a quivering just under his

skin, telling Rick how truly scared he had been. “I promise to not fall
over the side of an embankment again.”

Rick growled as the thought of losing the man hit him hard. “Not

funny.”

Dorian shook his head and sighed, letting Rick’s heart finally beat

again. The smell of relief and fear was scenting the air around them,
letting Rick know that these men did indeed realize how fortunate
they were to be alive. Rick glanced toward the sky, gazing through
the canopy of trees, and let the knowledge that none of them had died
settle his nerves.

Once he was composed, Rick turned, heading toward the back of

the truck. “We have to get our things.” When Rick pulled his bag free,
he shifted back into his human form and pulled some clothes out,
dressing.

“Hey.” Dorian laid a hand on Rick’s arm, giving him a wavering

smile. “I’m fine.”

“You could have died, gatito. What would I have done if you had

left me?” he asked, pulling his arm free of Dorian’s touch and
yanking the shirt over his head. He wasn’t as composed as he thought
he was. His hands were shaking, but Rick tried his best to hide how
truly shaken he was.

Dorian spun Rick around and hugged him, resting his cheek on

Rick’s chest. Rick hesitated and then rested the palm of his hand on
Dorian’s soft hair, grateful that he wasn’t burying his mate instead.

Rick looked down at his mate, knowing a life without Dorian was

no life at all.

128 Lynn

Hagen

* * * *

Ian was trying his best not to shake apart as he stood there,

watching Mason come toward him with a look of grim determination
and total terror on his face.

“Are you hurt?” he asked as he checked Ian over, his strong hands

running over Ian’s body.

“Just scared,” he admitted as he glanced at the truck, knowing

how close he had come to dying. When Freedman had jumped into
the backseat and wrapped his body around Ian and Dorian, Ian had
thought in that moment that he wished it was Mason protecting him.
He had wished it was Mason he was spending his last seconds on
earth with.

But he was alive, and Mason was standing in front of him, looking

as if he was about to fall apart. Ian glanced up at Mason, wanting the
jaguar to hold him, to give him some measure of safety as he
continued to shake apart.

Mason pulled Ian close, holding him as if he had been terrified Ian

had died. His strong hand ran over Ian’s head, brushing through his
hair. He could hear Mason’s heart under his ear, and it was beating
rapidly. Ian curled his fingers into Mason’s shirt, telling himself that
he hadn’t died, that Mason was there, giving Ian the anchor he
needed.

“We need to get moving,” Rick said as he walked up beside them,

interrupting the moment Ian was sharing with Mason. “Are you okay,
Ian?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking fine, thanks for asking,” Freedman called to

the four of them.

“You’re tough as steel, Freedman,” Rick replied. “It’ll take more

than going over the side in a truck to kill you.” Rick’s eyes shifted
back down to Dorian, and then Rick grabbed Dorian’s hand and
began to walk toward the back of the truck once more.

Rise to Submit

129

“Get your asses up here,” Sasha called from the edge above them.

“We’re clear for now, but we need to find another vehicle.”

“Town?” Rick called up to Sasha.
Sasha nodded. “That’s where we’ll find the best vehicles to

choose from.”

“He sounds like they are going to a dealership rather than stealing

one,” Ian commented.

Mason grinned. “Sasha has one of those award-winning

personalities.”

Mason released Ian and joined Rick as the two began to pull

everyone’s bags from the back. “We’ll store these in Bryson’s trunk
until we secure another ride,” Rick said as he hauled a few bags over
one shoulder and another two in the other hand. Ian was surprised.
Rick didn’t look like he could carry so much weight, but the man
didn’t look like he was breaking a sweat as he began to climb up the
embankment.

Freedman grabbed the rest as Mason walked Dorian and Ian up

the steep hill. Mason grabbed Ian’s hand and pulled him along,
helping him tackle the dirt and debris littering the ground as he tried
his best to make it up to the others.

Ian studied their joined hands, amazed at the contrast in size.

Mason’s hand was twice the size of Ian’s, strong, powerful, yet didn’t
hurt as it gripped Ian’s. The fingers folded around his, capturing Ian’s,
pulling, but never hurting him.

“We’re almost at the top,” Mason said to Ian.
Ian could see that and wondered why Mason felt compelled to

reassure him.

The vampires had never reassured Ian. They did what they wanted

regardless of Ian’s comfort. They took, but never gave, not in the
sense that they should have.

The only thing anyone got in return was a high…Ian slammed the

lid on that thought, pushing it away. He purposefully stumbled,

130 Lynn

Hagen

falling, hitting his knee on a rock. The pain exploded in his leg as
Mason cursed and helped him up.

But the pain helped him forget the other problem that had tried to

rise up inside of him.

“You okay?” Mason asked as Ian got to his feet, rubbing his knee,

welcoming the distraction.

“I’m fine.” But as he walked, the pain was constant. Ian

concentrated on it, welcoming it. It kept his mind from going places
he’d rather not go.

“I want Omar, Dorian, and Ian in the car with Bryson,” Rick

commanded as they reached the top of the hill. “If things go bad in
town, Bryson will get them out of here.”

“Not on your life,” Dorian argued. “I’m just as capable of

handling myself in a shootout as you are, Rick. I’ve proven that.”

“You have,” Rick admitted. “But this is a town full of Breed

Hunters. The less men going in, the better. I need you watching Ian
and Omar, keeping them safe.”

Ian saw what Rick was doing, and apparently so had Dorian.
“You want me to be a glorified babysitter.”
“Exactly,” Rick answered. “Now get in the damn car.”
“Okay, fine,” Dorian replied as he pulled Ian from Mason’s hand.

Ian wanted to grab the strong hand and never let it go, but he followed
his brother. “But I’m driving.”

“The hell you are,” Bryson argued.
“The hell I am,” Dorian said.
Ian was seeing a side to Dorian he had never seen before. Dorian

had never been this aggressive. His brother had been lazy, laid-back,
and just floated through life. Since when did he become this hothead
who liked to shoot things?

Ian was impressed.
And a bit frightened. Not of Dorian as his brother. But of this

bloodthirsty Dorian who didn't look like he would take anyone’s shit
and blow someone’s head off without thought.

Rise to Submit

131

“Bryson drives,” Rick growled. “Besides, how can you shoot

anyone if you are driving?”

“Don’t appeal to my renegade side,” Dorian argued.
Rick chuckled and then pulled Dorian into his arms, kissing him.

Ian glanced away, trying to free his hand from his brother’s, but
Dorian wouldn’t let him go.

“Let’s get going,” Sasha said impatiently.
Rick released Dorian.
“You play dirty,” Dorian said to Rick before he and Ian climbed

into the car, Omar taking shotgun.

“I use what I have.” Rick winked at Dorian.
Ian knew couples got along. His parents were a shining example

of how a couple could love each other even after thirty years of
marriage.

He was glad Dorian had found someone who loved him that

much. Ian wished he had been that lucky. Instead, he had found a
sadistic club that…Ian pushed the thought away as the car drove off,
leaving Mason behind and Ian—for the first time in his life—missing
a man who hadn’t placed a claim on him.

132 Lynn

Hagen

Chapter Fifteen

Mason compartmentalized his thoughts and concentrated on the

task at hand. Right now it didn’t matter how good it felt to hold Ian in
his arms. Right now he couldn’t think about how the man had smelled
of relief when Mason came running down that embankment.

Right now Mason needed to keep an eye on the back door of the

post office the Breed Hunters had ventured into, not let his mind
wander to the scorching kiss they had shared this morning. Mason’s
cock was becoming thick with need as he thought about how Ian had
tried to give himself over to Mason. It had been the most sensually
erotic thing Mason had ever experienced.

And being a full-grown changeling male, that was saying

something.

But the look of trust in Ian’s eyes had not been lost on Mason. It

wasn’t that he didn’t want the smaller man. God knows he did. But
Mason wasn’t going to take advantage of Ian while he was in such a
vulnerable state. The man had a lot of things to work out before he
was anywhere close to ready for Mason’s desires.

Mason pulled his mind away from Ian as his tail swung back and

forth. He studied the surrounding area.

There was a large Suburban parked out back, perfect for all of

them to fit into and tough enough to get them through most barricades
the Breed Hunters liked to set up.

They were on the outskirts of town, the post office being the last

building before the forest took over. It was the perfect cover. They
just had to get the damn truck from behind the two-story, red brick
building without anyone noticing.

Rise to Submit

133

The sun was setting, but there was still too much sunlight. Mason

had argued to wait until nightfall, but Rick, Sasha, and Freedman had
argued that they needed to be long gone from this place by the time
darkness settled in.

Mason sat on the long, thick branch in his jaguar form, his eyes

fixed on the back of the building, watching for any sign of the truck
owner, or anyone else who might try to stop them.

Miguel and Benito were in the woods to Mason’s left, rifles

trained on the back door as Rick, Freedman, and Sasha crept into the
parking lot.

Freedman silently pulled the driver’s door open, ducked under the

console, and began to work while Rick and Sasha stood guard. The
tension was so thick that Mason could scent it all the way up in the
tree he was perched in. All the men down below were scared,
determined, and willing to do whatever they had to in order to get the
job done.

Mason watched as the men worked in silent fervor.
The truck roared to life.
The three men jumped in.
Breed Hunters poured outside.
Mason watched it all, his mind taking everything in, waiting to see

if one of his very own needed help. If he could laugh in cat form, he
would have. Rick, Sasha, and Freedman were gone before the Breed
Hunters had a clue of what was going on.

It took them a moment to understand that their truck had been

stolen from them.

Idiots.
His group had set up a meeting point prior to coming to this town.

Mason knew they would be waiting for him no matter what happened.
But if things became too hairy, then they had a plan B.

Mason didn’t want to chance plan B because it would keep him

away from Ian for too long.

134 Lynn

Hagen

He had been extremely perplexed when first laying eyes on Ian.

Mason couldn’t understand his feelings toward the human. He feared
that Ian would take him under and shred his world apart. Never before
had Mason had such a strong and unrelenting attraction toward
someone like he had for Ian.

But Mason began to understand what that need was.
He had spent hours tossing those emotions around in his mind.

They were complex on the deepest level, yet so simple Mason
wondered how he hadn’t seen it before.

Mason wanted Ian as his mate.
But Mason’s jaguar still reacted to the scent of Ian’s blood in a

violent way. If his changeling beast didn’t agree with Mason on the
subject of wanting Ian, then there would be nothing Mason could do
to keep the man.

He just couldn’t understand why his beast was so reluctant. It

wasn’t like he could kick his beast out and keep Ian. He and his jaguar
had to be as one when it came to Ian. If not, there was no way Mason
could mate the man. His jaguar would try to eat Ian before he could
claim him.

That was not something Mason wanted to happen.
Ian had grown to mean too much to Mason, and he was going to

figure out a way to mate Ian without his jaguar attacking the man.
There had to be a reason for his beast reacting the way he did to Ian’s
blood and Mason was determined to find out.

Making his way through the forest, Mason ran for two miles

before he spotted the Suburban. It looked as though they already had
it loaded and were just waiting on him.

Rick pointed to a small pile of clothes on the ground. Mason

shifted and grabbed the items, quickly dressing. “Where’s Ian?”

“In the truck,” Rick replied. “We had to clean out the crap the

Breed Hunters had in there and came across some very interesting
things. In my opinion, the owner of this truck was a very important
man.”

Rise to Submit

135

“Why do you say that?” Mason shoved his feet into his boots and

squatted down to tie them.

Rick held up the man’s wallet. “His driver’s license states his

name is Samuel Formente. But his other ID states he is a professor at
a college we recently fled from.”

Mason slowly stood, grabbing the wallet from Rick’s hand and

dug inside, finding the ID. “I know that name. If I’m not mistaken, he
was the professor and head guy of the bioengineering lab.”

“Now why would a man who taught bioengineering lead a unit of

Breed Hunters?” Rick asked, but Mason could tell the alpha had
already thought long and hard about his answer.

“Because,” Mason replied as the answer formed, “he wants live

changelings for the experiments at the detention centers.”

“That would be my guess.” Rick nodded.
“He’s hunting guinea pigs?” Sasha asked through a clenched jaw.
“That’s the only plausible explanation I can think of for a

professor of bioengineering to turn to a life of hunting changelings
down.” Rick gave a shrug. “Unless you can think of another reason.

“I think he had something to do with the bombing,” Mason said as

he continued to dig through the wallet. “Your ex-employee is with
him and was at the school. I think the whole thing with my father
agreeing to rebuild the school was a cover-up for something bigger.”

“What was in the section of the school that was destroyed?”

Freedman asked as he shut the back of the truck.

Mason narrowed his eyes at Freedman, his thoughts beginning to

work overtime. “Labs.”

“Just hear me out,” Rick said as he held up a hand. “What if the

whole wanting you dead thing was just an excuse? What if your father
was funding whatever they were working on in those labs and
possibly blew it up when it went bad?”

Mason folded the wallet and handed it back to Rick. “Anything is

possible. I think the only way we are going to get any definitive

136 Lynn

Hagen

answers is to pay Sellers Pharmaceuticals a visit. We already know he
was funding the Calvary Home of Salvation.”

Rick leaned over, placing his hands on his knees, and then bent

down to squat. “If your father’s company is funding some
bioengineering project, what in the fuck was he funding Garrett for? I
mean, I know the kids were experimented on, but bioengineering?
What the fuck is he up to?”

“I’m not sure.” Mason knew his father was an asshole, but

remembering that the man had experimented on changeling kids—the
juveniles being the most precious things to the changeling
community—was making him sick all over again.

Not wanting to be discovered as a changeling and lose everything

was one thing. But his father was intentionally harming changelings
for whatever it was he was doing in those labs. Mason wasn’t sure he
could walk away and leave his father unharmed when he finally
confronted the man.

“Do you know what happened to Francis and Anthony Oswego at

the Calvary Home of Salvation? Did the werejackals kill them?”
Freedman asked.

“Logan didn’t say,” Rick replied. “The alpha just said that they

rescued six toddlers and burned the place to the ground.”

“It would have been an easier route to question those two about

the experiments,” Mason replied.

“Right now we need to find a place to lie low and then we can

figure out our next move.” Rick waved toward the truck.

“We’ll figure it out,” Sasha replied as Mason crawled into the

truck, pushing next to Ian who was staring out of the side window,
looking lost as hell.

“You all right?” Mason asked as he reached up and gave a light

tug at Ian’s hair.

Ian blinked a few times and then turned to look at Mason. The

circles under his eyes were deepening, letting Mason know the man
was sleep deprived. He could scent Ian’s weariness as well.

Rise to Submit

137

Ian nodded, but Mason could see how unfocused his eyes were.

“I’m fine.”

Mason noticed Ian’s withdrawals weren’t as bad as Bryson had

predicted—although the few times he did flip out were scary as fuck.
He had never dealt with a drug addict before and wondered if that was
normal. He was going to have to talk to Bryson when others weren’t
around.

Resting his arm on the back of the seat, Mason settled back as

Rick drove from the service road they had been on and headed away
from town.

Mason was worried about Ian. The man looked like he was going

to fall asleep any minute. Reaching over, Mason pulled Ian into his
lap. The man looked stunned, but didn’t say a word.

He didn’t lie back and relax either. Ian sat there, still staring out of

the window.

“Lie back, Ian.” Mason realized that when he commanded Ian to

do something, the man obeyed. He knew Ian was terrified to fall
asleep, and Mason was torn about what to do. But it was killing him
to see Ian in such a fatigued state. He began to run his knuckles down
Ian’s back in a soothing gesture, giving the man comfort all
changelings craved.

Mason knew Ian was human, but he also knew, changeling or

human, everyone craved touch.

138 Lynn

Hagen

Chapter Sixteen

Ian was fighting the drowsy feeling running rampant through his

body, but his eyelids kept drifting closed. The lull of the truck and the
darkness outside weren’t helping his plight to stay awake—and
neither were Mason’s hands running gently over his back.

The man’s warm body made Ian feel safe, but unfortunately, it

was so cozy that it wasn’t helping his plight to stay awake. He wanted
nothing more than to let sleep take him.

He was so tired that all he wanted to do was close his eyes. His

head was pounding and his eyes were burning so badly that they felt
like they were on fire.

Voices began to whisper all around Ian, but when he looked up,

no one was talking. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He
had to stay awake—even if all he wanted to do was close his eyes and
get some rest.

As he stared out of the window, trying to take his mind off of

sleeping, he noticed that the shapes in the darkness began to take
form, mocking Ian, laughing at him as the truck drove by. Oh, god.
He needed sleep so desperately. Ian slammed his eyes closed and then
quickly opened them, only to see more shapes along the back road.

He was going insane.
He needed sleep.
Even though Ian had been falling asleep, rest hadn’t been the

thing he had experienced. How could he rest when Newman met him
in his dreams? He was sleep deprived in the worst way, and Ian would
give anything to fall asleep and just sleep, no dreams, no Newman,
nothing but uninterrupted knocked-out-from-the-world sleep.

Rise to Submit

139

But Ian knew Newman was waiting for him. There was no way

the vampire would miss the opportunity to torture him. Newman
seemed to thrive on pain…Ian’s pain. The man was as sadistic as they
came, and had proven it time and again with Ian.

There were some things the man had made Ian do that Ian would

take to the grave. He could honestly say there were no limits a junkie
wouldn’t go to in order to get his fix.

And Ian had no limits when he was at the bottom of that rotten,

death-filled barrel. When he was going through his worst cravings,
Ian would have sold his own mother to get another bite, and the
shame of that knowledge would forever haunt him.

Mason shifted around slightly and Ian found himself leaning into

the guy’s chest. The feeling was warm, strong, and so damn
comforting.

“Have you brought me what I asked for?” Newman asked as soon

as Ian opened his eyes.

Oh, god no! Ian had fallen asleep. He stood there with his hands

tied above his head, his body completely still. The quick rise and fall
of his chest couldn’t be helped, but Ian struggled not to make it too
noticeable.

The whip cracked and Ian slammed his eyes closed, feeling his

skin breaking open and blood slowly dripping down his back.

“I asked you a question, human.”
Ian didn’t want to tell on the people he was with. They had shown

him nothing but kindness. Dorian was with them as well, and Ian
wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize his brother’s safety. He
finally had his brother back, and Ian was not going to ruin what they
were starting to rebuild.

And he couldn’t let Newman get his hands on Mason.

* * * *

140 Lynn

Hagen

Mason quickly moved Ian off his lap, pushing as far as he could to

the other side of the seat and into Freedman. “Rick, pull over. Ian’s
bleeding.”

Rick hurriedly pulled to the side of the road and then turned in his

seat. “How? You gave him our next destination, right?”

Mason nodded as his eyes raked over Ian’s limp body, the scent of

his blood flooding the truck’s interior. “I told him we were headed to
South Carolina because we wanted to get as close to the White House
as we could.”

“He’s not giving us up,” Dorian whispered from the front

passenger’s seat, his eyes filled with sorrow and pain. “He’s
protecting us.”

“Damn it!” Mason growled as he pushed at Freedman until the

human opened the door and slid out. “He’s not supposed to do that.”

“Too late now,” Rick said in a hushed tone. “All we can do is be

here for him when he wakes up and take care of his wounds.”

Mason quickly climbed out of the truck, pacing the road. He

couldn’t understand his reaction to Ian’s bleeding. Now that he knew
he wanted the man as his mate, there should be no craving to lick the
guy’s wounds and then bite him.

But there was.
Mason knew Rick and Sasha would stop the others from going

anywhere near Ian. Dorian and Freedman would help as well.

But it shouldn’t be others who protected Ian.
It should be Mason.
Why in the fuck wasn’t Ian telling the vampire what he wanted to

know? Why was he suffering for people he hardly knew? Not even
the fact that Dorian was with them should prevent Ian from telling.

He walked to Bryson’s car that had stopped behind them. Bryson

rolled his window down.

“Ian’s bleeding.”
“He fell asleep?”

Rise to Submit

141

Mason nodded as the werewolf medic climbed from his car, not

saying a word as he crawled into the back of the truck. Mason wanted
to shout his disgust at the way he was reacting.

Ian needed him and Mason had to run.

* * * *

“You will tell me what I want to know.” Newman slid the metal

flogger over Ian’s back. The cold, hard metal made Ian’s knees shake,
but at this point, he was beyond caring. He wished Newman would
just get it over with so he could wake up.

It seemed even in his sleep he found no rest. Ian’s body was

falling apart, making him imagine things and hear things because he
was so sleep deprived.

But he hadn’t told anyone. They would only force him to sleep,

and Ian couldn’t tell them why he had to stay awake.

But here he stood, so his plan hadn’t worked out so well after all.
“Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way,” Newman said right

before he struck, his fangs sinking deep into Ian’s neck. Ian shouted,
trying to pull away, but Newman’s fangs were embedded in his skin.

Ian whimpered when Newman pulled free and he felt the effects of

the vampire’s saliva immediately.

But Newman didn’t stop there. He struck three more times,

flooding Ian’s body with the aphrodisiac.

And then Ian felt his heart stop.

* * * *

“He’s crashing!” Bryson shouted.
Mason ran back toward the truck when he heard those bone-

chilling words. He stood by the door and watched in horror as Bryson
began CPR on Ian’s frail form.

142 Lynn

Hagen

Rick had to pull Dorian from the truck. The man was going

ballistic, screaming and yelling and struggling to get to his brother.
Benito and Miguel climbed out of Bryson’s car and hurried over, but
there was nothing they could do but stand there and watch, just as
Mason was doing.

Just watching—and feeling so fucking helpless that Mason

wanted to kill the entire race of vampires.

“I got him. I got him,” Bryson said twice, and both times his voice

shook with relief and fear. “His pulse is weak, but I got him.” The
man sounded as if he was trying to reassure himself. “I got him.” The
last statement was whispered as Bryson leaned back and they all
waited.

* * * *

“You can’t escape me that easily, human.”
Ian was floating. His body was weightless as Newman’s voice

came to him in bursts.

“Now, tell me where they are going.”
Ian reached out, trying to grab at the ray of colors all around him.

The blue slipped by him, the green whooshed under him, but it was
the red that wrapped Ian in a suffocating blanket. The wisp of color
became heavy. The soft texture that had been brushing him turned to
liquid, and Ian soon realized that he was drowning in a sea of blood,
the skies an angry crawling black.

“Tell me, Ian, or you will drown.”
Ian tried to grab on to something to stay afloat, but there was

nothing but angry waves of crimson splashing around him, pulling
him under and then pushing him back to the surface, only to repeat
the nightmarish process all over again.

He spat the blood out that he swallowed, but more soon replaced

it, sliding down his throat, filling his stomach to full capacity.

“Tell me.”

Rise to Submit

143

Ian pushed himself hard, and then found himself standing in a

rock quarry, the skies burnt red.

He felt someone standing behind him.
“Tell me.”
Ian tried to run. He tried hard to climb the large rocks and

boulders surrounding him, but it seemed the higher he climbed, the
closer he was to the ground, and Newman. It was as if his feet were
moving, but his body wasn’t going anywhere.

“Tell me.”
Ian leapt, trying to make it to the top, and landed back in the sea

of raging, dark crimson blood.

“No!” he shouted, but it pulled him under, trying to drown him.
“Then drown, you pathetic fool.”
Something wrapped around Ian’s ankles. The tentacles were

slimy, but the hold was tight. It was tugging, taking him deeper into
the depths of the blood-red sea.

He struggled to get loose, but then Ian felt a hand grab his,

pulling him further down.

He broke the surface, although he wasn’t sure how. But he knew

the next time he was pulled under, he wasn’t coming back up.
“Carolina,” he cried, wanting to die for betraying the Rebellion
group he was with. “South Carolina.”

* * * *

Everyone was silent, not a word was spoken as Ian murmured

what he thought was their next location in a shattered whisper.

He had broken.
Bryson was frantically trying to stop the bleeding. It seemed Ian’s

entire body had been sliced open. His blood was everywhere.

And oddly, Mason wasn’t reacting to it.
Not when Ian was lying there in a comatose state.
Fragmented.

144 Lynn

Hagen

Bloody.
Defeated.
And Mason’s heart just about broke in half.
Rick had pulled Dorian into his arms as his mate softly cried.
Benito and Miguel stared at Ian as if they had never seen him

before.

Omar leaned over the backseat, staring down at what Bryson was

doing.

Freedman and Sasha just stood there, their expressions

inscrutable.

No one moved except the medic.
It was too surreal.
It was too damn terrifying to know that a vampire could get to

them in their dreams. The night seemed to close in on Mason. He was
numb as he watched.

“Fucking wake up!” Bryson shouted at Ian. “Fight him!”
Mason wasn’t sure what he was doing. His body seemed to be

moving on its own as he leaned over and pressed his lips to Ian’s. He
inhaled the man’s scent, and in that moment he knew why his beast
had tried to get rid of Ian whenever he was at his weakest.

He smelled someone else on the man.
He smelled vampire.
Mason pressed his lips harder to Ian’s as he cupped the man’s

face. “Come back to me, Ian,” he whispered softly against the frail
man’s mouth. “Come back to me.”

Ian’s back arched off the seat as he screamed into Mason’s mouth.

Mason held on tight, holding him in place as Bryson continued to
work on the human.

“I’ve got you, Ian. I’m here,” Mason said in a voice low and filled

with steel. He kept his hands vise-gripped to Ian’s face. “I’m here,
Ian. Open your pretty eyes and look at me.”

“He’s trying to pull me back,” Ian cried in a pitiful whisper.

“Don’t let him take me.”

Rise to Submit

145

Mason’s beast yowled loudly, and then Mason bit into Ian’s neck,

claiming the fragile human, fighting the unknown attacker bite for
bite. He wasn’t thinking, only acting on instinct, but it was enough as
Mason felt the other entity being thrust out.

Ian cried out once more and then began to push at Mason, his

small hands slapping and punching. Mason freed his teeth from Ian’s
shoulder and then released him, backing away.

“What in the fuck did you do?” Dorian asked as he pulled away

from Rick and narrowed his eyes at Mason. “He’s been bitten
enough!”

“It was the only way to get him away,” Mason said as he backed

away from the truck, knowing that it was his jaguar that had been in
charge. He glanced at Rick. “My changeling beast acted on instinct.”

“His bleeding is slowing down,” Bryson said in relief. “I think

Mason threw the other person out.”

“You smelled him?” Mason asked in astonishment as he glanced

at the changeling medic.

Bryson gave a grim nod. “And it was acrid as hell.”
Ian lay there with his eyes closed, but Mason knew the man was

awake. Mason’s eyes flickered to the mating mark he had left on Ian,
and a warmth began to spread inside of him like he had never
experienced before.

Ian was his now—his to protect, his to care for, his to love. Ian

was just fucking his and no one—not even a bloodsucking
nightmare—was going to take Ian from him.

If the vampire trying to claim his mate’s life came at Ian again, he

was going to find a very large and pissed-off jaguar to contend with.

146 Lynn

Hagen

Chapter Seventeen

“Where the fuck have you been?” Rick shouted into the phone.
“Trying not to get my damn head blown off,” Nate said heatedly.

Rick knew the man was beyond scared and pissed. His top enforcer
had never taken such a volatile tone with him. They were all under a
lot of stress these days. “Selene and I managed to get away after we
blew the bastards sky high.”

Rick wasn’t even going to ask. “Where are you now?” He pulled

to the side of the road and waved his fingers for Dorian to hand him
the map on the floor.

His mate handed it to him, and Rick checked how far apart they

were after Nate gave him his and Selene’s location. “I can meet you
in about five hours. Stay where you’re at. I’m on my way.”

“My Yukon is working just fine. Thank fuck we had gotten out

and footed it the last mile because of rocky terrain or I’d have played
with them before they died.”

Rick never understood Nate’s obsession with his truck. It was just

a truck. “Fine,” he replied in a clipped tone and then gave Nate a
halfway meeting point. “Call if you’re going to be delayed.”

“Sorry,” Nate said as he blew out a shuddering breath. “Selene

damn near got her head blown off, and it scared ten years off of me.”

Rick was shocked the man was admitting it with the female

enforcer in the truck with him. “Yeah, we all are about to crack if the
pressure doesn’t let up. But I have a feeling that release won’t be
coming anytime soon.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I called Edward and he needs me

back where he’s at.”

Rise to Submit

147

Rick felt his stomach twist into knots when he thought about the

shit they were going through. “See you then.”

They hung up and Rick steered the vehicle back onto the road,

driving for the next two and a half hours until he reached the spot
where he was supposed to meet Nate and Selene. He pulled into a
parking lot with a boarded-up ice cream parlor. Rick glanced in the
rearview mirror to see Ian sitting there docile, not saying a word the
entire trip. Rick felt for Ian. He wanted to kill whoever was torturing
the man, but knew they couldn’t do a damn thing until they found
someone with special gifts to help them.

As soon as the red Yukon pulled into the parking lot, Rick saw

Sasha get out of Bryson’s tan Impala and walk toward the two. He
waited, giving the three privacy until he saw Selene rest her hand on
the butt of her gun, her eyes narrowing to tiny slits.

And the fun begins.
Rick got out of his truck and walked over to Nate’s side. If Selene

was going to shoot the leopard alpha, Rick didn’t want to be in the
way.

“I bet you would look fabulous wearing that holster…naked,”

Sasha purred to Selene.

“I’m really sick of you,” she said with a growl, but Nate stopped

her from pulling her gun free. Rick had been so caught up in the two
that he hadn’t noticed the man sitting in the back until he saw him
move.

“Who do you have with you?” Rick asked cautiously, glancing

from the stranger to Nate.

“You put out word that you needed someone to help with

dreams,” Nate replied. “I’m not sure why you would need something
like that, but this man answered the call.” Nate handed Rick a large
manila envelope. “That’s from Edward.”

Rick grabbed the envelope, but his eyes went back to staring at the

stranger sitting in the backseat. He was Native American. Rick could

148 Lynn

Hagen

surmise that by the tanned and leathery skin. He was older, an elder.
He sat there staring at Rick as if he could see right through him.

It was creepy as hell.
“His name is Cheveyo. It means spirit warrior,” Nate said and

then winked at Rick. “And he’s all yours.”

Rick nodded. He knew Nate had to get back to Edward and

Isabelle. Cheveyo opened the back door and climbed out with such
ease and agility that his age seemed to hide. Rick wouldn’t have
guessed the man to be so fluidly graceful with how old he looked.

“Call you when I help Edward,” Nate said before pulling away.
“Right this way.” Rick waved a hand toward the Suburban. Sasha

walked next to Rick, both of them studying the man. “How did you
get our distress call?” Rick asked.

The man turned, his dark brown eyes piercing. “I dreamt that a

lost soul needed me.”

Yeah, right, the dream warrior. Rick inwardly snorted as he

tossed the envelope into the front seat. “You can ride in the back with
Ian. He’s the one having the problems. Mason will fill you in on
what’s going on.”

The man stood there with a regal stance as he stared Rick in his

eyes. “You have no faith in my capabilities.”

Rick shrugged, not hiding the truth. “I’m at a loss here, Cheveyo.

My mind is still working out the fundamental logic behind a vampire
coming after a human in his sleep. It just isn’t possible.”

“Yet you called for me.”
“Not you in particular, but yeah. If what Omar says is true, then

we need help.”

“Ah, yes, Omar,” Cheveyo said as his eyes slid to Omar, who was

sitting on the back of the truck looking at them. Omar ducked down.
It seemed Rick wasn’t the only one spooked by this man.

“If you will.” Rick nodded toward the backseat. “We need to get

moving.”

Rise to Submit

149

“We have time,” Cheveyo stated with confidence as he climbed

inside and then turned to look at Rick. “But I will need a place with
more room.”

Rick nodded. “We can find the nearest abandoned building.

Everyone could use a break from riding.”

The door closed, and Rick was left standing there wondering what

the hell he had gotten himself into.

* * * *

Ian wasn’t sure what was going on, but the old man who had

climbed into the truck and was sitting on the other side of Mason
scared the shit out of him. The guy just kept staring at him with those
creepy brown eyes. Ian’s body felt like it was on fire from his wounds
and it was painful as hell to move, but he tried to sink back into the
seat to escape the man’s penetrating stare.

Too bad he couldn’t hide behind Mason’s massive form, but it

seemed the jaguar wasn’t going to let him hide. He kept leaning back
just enough so the old man could see Ian.

Mason frowned at him when Ian kept fidgeting around. “Relax,

Ian.”

If only he could relax. Deep down inside Ian was beating himself

up for giving away their next location. He had to warn them, but Ian
feared that Newman would somehow find out and kill him next time.
The man had already tried to hold on to Ian as Ian began to slip from
the dream. The talon scratches were still throbbing on his shoulder
from Newman’s tight grip.

And Ian was still confused as hell about why Mason had bitten

him. Didn’t the man know Ian hated to have anyone bite him? That
should be so damn obvious by his addiction that a blind man could
see his distaste for the act.

But as Ian came out of his sleeping state, he hadn’t fought Mason

because the large man was biting him. No, Ian had been fighting

150 Lynn

Hagen

Mason because it hadn’t repulsed him. It shouldn’t be that way. Ian
should hate Mason for sinking his teeth into his neck.

But he didn’t. If anything, Ian wanted to curl into Mason’s side.

The need baffled him. Just the thought of anyone touching him made
Ian want to be sick.

But as he remembered the kiss they had shared, Ian wasn’t

repulsed. His lips tingled as he thought about how soft Mason’s
mouth had been against his. The jaguar had made something roar to
life inside Ian.

He had gone so far as to offer himself to Mason. Thankfully,

Mason had refused. Ian wasn’t sure why he had even done that. But
then Mason had kissed him again in the truck right before it
plummeted over the edge.

Ian was downright confused.
The man was tempting Ian, but he wasn’t sure for what. There

was a wild, raw feeling fluttering inside of him, just like before, and
Ian was hard pressed to put a name to it.

Those emotions scared him.
He didn’t have an appetite.
His sleep was visited by a monster.
Ian was so tired he wanted to fall over.
Yet, sitting next to Mason, Ian felt at ease.
What a weird damn feeling.
The elderly man glanced at Ian, and Ian quickly looked away. He

watched Rick pull into what looked to be some kind of old plant
instead. “Why are we here?” Ian asked.

“For you,” the elderly man replied.
Ian stiffened, which only made his entire body sizzle with pain.

Mason glanced down at him and frowned. “Why are you moving?
You shouldn’t be moving. Your entire body is covered in salve.”

Mason didn’t have to remind him. Ian felt every cut with intensity.

“Because he’s creepy,” Ian mouthed.

Rise to Submit

151

Mason grinned and Ian felt those flutters start again. His cheeks

heated, which only made him want to turn away, but he knew that if
he moved, he would pay dearly with pain. He heard Mason give a low
chuckle.

“Mason,” Rick said as he drove the Suburban into the dock area.

“You’ll have to carry Ian inside.”

“The guy was serious?” Ian asked as he began to panic. “Why are

we here, Mason? What does he plan on doing with me?” Ian didn’t
like the ominous feeling he had when he looked up at the old plant.
The windows were broken and the place looked more like a haunted
factory. He swallowed hard as he glanced up at Mason. “Don’t make
me go in there.”

Mason ran his knuckled down Ian’s cheek. “Calm down, Ian. I

promise he won’t hurt you and I’ll explain everything inside.”

Ian was terrified.
“Friends, remember? I will protect you.” There was a hard glint in

Mason’s eyes that Ian couldn’t help but believe. Mason spoke with
such conviction.

Everyone exited the truck except Ian and Mason. Once the doors

were closed Mason began talking. “We know about your dreams.”

Ian felt his stomach drop. “H–How?”
“Well, when I stood by the bed and watched your back being

carved open, and no one was around, I knew something wasn’t right.”

Ian’s heart was beating frantically. “If Newman finds out you

know, he might come after all of you.” This was a nightmare! Ian
wanted to run away to keep everyone safe. Newman was his problem,
even though Ian hadn’t a clue how to fight the man. It terrified him to
think of Mason being hurt. The man was so strong, so powerful, but
Ian doubted even Mason could fight Newman.

“Newman? Is that the name of the sick fuck that is hurting you?”
Ian eyelids fluttered wildly at the menace in Mason’s voice. He

wasn’t sure he had ever heard Mason talk so…so…the man was scary

152 Lynn

Hagen

when he was pissed. Except Ian didn’t think Mason was pissed at
him.

Ian nodded slowly.
Mason’s lips firmed for a moment, a small tic pulsing in his

clenched jaw before he spoke. “Well, Cheveyo is a dream walker of
sorts. He is going to help you when you fall asleep.”

Ian grabbed Mason’s arm, pulling at it desperately, even though it

cost him a great deal of pain to do so. “Please, Mason, please. I don’t
want to fall asleep. He’s going to end up killing me!”

Mason placed his oversized hand on Ian’s. The look in the man’s

light-blue eyes was soft, comforting. “Didn’t I promise you that
friends stood by each other? I’m not going to just sit here and allow
Newman to hurt you.”

Ian bit his lower lip and glanced away, knowing the truth. “You

can’t stop him.”

“The hell I can’t.” Mason’s tone held a feral viciousness, but as

much as Ian wished the man could help, he knew better. No one could
help him. He had gotten himself into this mess four years ago, and it
seemed the only way out of it was death.

Ian’s hand shook as he pulled it from Mason’s. “If Newman kills

me, I just want you to know…” Ian glanced down at his knees. He
couldn’t look Mason in the eyes when he said the next words. “I just
want you to know that if my life had turned out differently, that if so
many things hadn’t factored into where I am now, I would have loved
for you to be my Master.”

There. He had said it. Because if Newman did kill him, Ian

wanted the jaguar to know the level of trust he had placed with
Mason. He shouldn’t have been able to trust anyone, but Ian had been
drawn to the man ever since he stared at Ian in the back of that truck
with the cop standing next to him.

Mason touched Ian’s chin with his fingers, tilting his face toward

the man when Ian would have looked away, and then Mason kissed
him without warning. He took his time, his soft lips pressing gently

Rise to Submit

153

into Ian’s. Ian didn’t hesitate. He opened wide, whimpering for
Mason to take more. If he was going to die, he at least wanted to take
this kiss with him.

Mason ran the tips of his fingers over Ian’s face as the man’s

tongue traced over Ian’s lips. A shockwave rippled through Ian’s
body. He wasn’t sure what was happening to him, but it felt as though
he was falling apart right there in Mason’s arms.

Ian was dazed when Mason pulled away. “I told you before, Ian,

I’m not going to be your Master. But I will help guide you through
life and always have your back, no matter what the circumstance.”

That was as solid a promise as Ian could hope for. He wasn’t sure

what Mason had planned, but he prayed he lived long enough to find
out.

“Now, let’s see if Cheveyo can help you with Newman.”
Ian chewed on his bottom lip as he glanced once more at the large

and looming building. “I’m scared, Mason.”

“I know, but remember that it’s just a dream and the only way he

can hurt you is if you believe what you are seeing and feeling is real.”

“Oh, it’s real.” Ian turned to look Mason in his light-blue eyes.

“It’s very real. I tell myself over and over again that it’s just a dream
and he can’t hurt me, but he does. It’s very real, Mason.”

He could see the realization dawn in Mason’s eyes. “Then we kill

the bastard.”

“If only,” Ian said as Mason slid out, came around the truck, and

then gently lifted Ian from the seat. His entire body was pulsing in
pain, but Ian pushed the feeling aside as Mason walked them inside,
knowing the true meaning of pain was waiting on him in his dreams.

154 Lynn

Hagen

Chapter Eighteen

Mason felt foolish as hell sitting there by a fire that was burning

inside a small circle in an empty plant. Benito and Miguel had placed
bricks in a circle and had gathered firewood. Thank fuck that every
damn window in the place was broken, allowing for proper
ventilation.

But he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do as Cheveyo sat

across the fire from him and chanted in some language Mason didn’t
understand. Ian was lying on some blankets right next to Mason and
was staring up at him with fear in his cobalt-blue eyes. Everyone else
was close by, but kept their distance, guarding the three men.

The smoke curled toward the rafters, the wood crackling and

snapping, heating the chilled air surrounding him in the open
building. Ian was wrapped in blankets, but the man was still shivering
slightly. Mason knew it was not only from the cold, but what was to
come. He had placed his trust in Mason, and Mason wasn’t going to
fail him.

Ian was his mate now—a fact he was going to tell Ian just as soon

as they ridded themselves of Newman. He didn’t want the vampire to
have added fuel if Ian accidently let it slip that he had a mate now. It
pained Mason to not let Ian know, but he knew the knowledge just
might get Ian killed.

When Ian’s eyes began to slowly lower, Mason reached over and

grabbed the man’s hand and enveloped it in his. He prayed that
whatever Cheveyo planned on doing would save Ian.

The smoke swirled, twirled, and began to dance in front of

Mason’s eyes. The crackling sound began to blend in with the

Rise to Submit

155

chanting, the noises of the abandoned plant fading, taking away the
whistling sound of the wind and the creaks and groans of the rusted
metal.

The voice—humming and then rising with infliction, lowering as

the man sang in such a beautiful melody—was lulling.

Mason shook his head rapidly back and forth, trying to focus and

clear his mind, but he would have bet his life that he had heard other
voices chanting along with Cheveyo.

That wasn’t possible.
He tried harder to focus, but soon found his body swaying slightly

as his eyelids began to drop. Mason could still hear the chanting, but
when he opened his eyes, he was standing in some room he had never
seen before and Ian was in the center, his hands above his head,
chained to a hook. The room was right out of a BDSM club with
whips of varying sizes hanging on the walls, a St. Andrew’s cross in
the corner, and a bench made for subduing someone sitting just inches
from Ian’s hanging body.

The room was faded around the edges, the images dull. Mason

had excellent sight, but here, in the room he was standing in, the
colors were distorted and murky.

There was a man standing next to Ian, tall, slender, with black hair

touching his shoulders, but his back was to Mason.

Mason focused on the man and the stranger came in a little more

clearly. He held a metal flogger in his hand that was down at his side,
the talons gently waving back and forth as the stranger studied Ian’s
backside. Mason’s chest tightened when he realized that it was the
steel whip that had been hurting Ian.

The man turned with slow movement, and his eyes flared with a

bright fire. “What are you doing here, old man?” The voice was a
little distorted, but Mason caught the words.

Cheveyo stood there, his black hair surrounding him like a cloak

as he took in the room and then shook his head. “I should have known
that it was you, Newman, who was torturing this poor boy.”

156 Lynn

Hagen

As soon as Cheveyo spoke, the entire room snapped into focus,

the images around Mason crystal clear now.

Mason began to walk over to Ian, but a leather-worn hand grabbed

his arm with surprising strength and stopped him. “You cannot go to
him. He must come to you.”

Newman’s eyes flickered to Mason, as if seeing him for the first

time. His brows tilted down as an evil smile formed on his lips.
Mason could tell the man thought he had another victim to play with.

“And who is this?” Newman asked with interest.
Cheveyo’s hand released Mason. “I have brought the boy help.”
Newman tilted his head back and gave a full laugh as a hand

waved toward Mason. “You brought me a changeling to play with and
then kill.”

Mason’s jaguar yowled at the threat, but Mason remained where

he was. “You could try.”

Ian opened his eyes as he lifted his head when Mason spoke.

Tears ran in rivulets down his pale cheeks. His cobalt-blue eyes
looked so disheartened, so dejected that Mason had to mentally focus
on standing where he was instead of going to his mate. “I never
wanted you to see me like this.” He whispered the words in an
agonized tone.

Mason locked eyes with the man, pushing all of his emotions into

the stare he was giving his mate. “I look at you no less for this.
You’re still Ian to me…my friend, my best friend, my partner.”

Ian’s tears seemed to come faster as Newman walked around

Mason’s mate. He studied Mason for a long moment. “What would
you give me for Ian?” he asked curiously.

“Nothing,” Cheveyo immediately answered. “We did not come

here to barter with evil. It is you who must give us something.”

Newman slid the metal tentacles through his fingers as a

deliberate smile crossed his face. “You’ll never get me to agree.”

Mason was a little lost at what was going on, but he kept his eyes

locked on Ian. He was hard-pressed not to kill Newman when the

Rise to Submit

157

vampire reached a hand toward Ian and ran it down Ian’s back. “I
think I’ll keep my toy.”

“He’s not your toy!” Mason bellowed. His hands clenched in

frustration and anger when he saw Ian flinch then shudder. He wanted
to go to Ian, protect him, but he knew he couldn’t. He had to wait, and
the waiting just might kill him.

“No?” Newman asked as he struck Ian with the quickness of a

cobra, sinking his fangs into Ian’s neck. Mason roared as he moved,
but Cheveyo held him back.

“He is trying to get you to come to him. Do not.”
Newman released Ian, glaring at Cheveyo. “You are not allowed

to instruct him.”

Cheveyo shrugged. “I’m just telling him to stand still.”
Mason wished like hell the old man had told him what to do

before he had pulled Mason into Ian’s fucked-up dream. He was
clueless as hell.

“Let your jaguar guide you,” a voice whispered in his mind.
Newman sneered at them. “Why are you coming to this dream in

your earth form? Why the guise?”

Mason looked at Cheveyo. “Something you forgot to tell me?”
Before the man could speak, Newman waved his hand and

Cheveyo shimmered, the weathered skin fading as a strong, young
warrior stood next to him. He wore brown leggings with moccasins
on his feet, a breastplate made of hair-pipes and a headdress made of
feathers.

“Now you look like the dream warrior of old.” Newman laughed

as he walked behind Ian and then slid his arms over Ian’s shoulders,
resting his head against Ian’s. “Does this changeling know you are
dead? Does he know it is only your spirit sitting in front of that fire?”
Newman looked at Mason. “Of course not. He has no clue you lived
over four hundred years ago, but are tied to earth because of your
betrayal.”

158 Lynn

Hagen

Mason’s heart was beating furiously, but he refused to look away

from Ian. His mate’s head had fallen back, making Newman move,
but his arms still remained on Ian’s shoulders. Mason wanted to kill
the man for touching his mate.

“I see you are still trying to help others in hopes that it will free

your spirit.” Newman clucked his tongue. “Has it worked yet?”

Mason could see Newman was mocking Cheveyo, or whoever in

the hell the man was, but the guy just stood next to him, unwavering,
his face a stony mask.

Mason reluctantly closed his eyes when he felt Cheveyo pushing

into his mind. Hell, too many impossibilities were happening for him
not to believe the man couldn’t get in.

He showed Mason his jaguar this time. The image was crisp,

sharp, and curled around Ian in protectiveness. Mason saw the image.
He just wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“Mason.”
Mason snapped his eyes open when he heard Ian murmuring his

name.

“No,” Newman growled as he lifted the whip and let it crack

against Ian’s back. “You’re mine, not his. You call to me, not that
filthy animal!”

Mason snapped his jaws at Newman, his canines gnashing

together, and then the room changed. He was no longer standing in a
room built for a hardcore BDSM scene. He was standing in a dense
forest that was shrouded in mist and Ian was up ahead of him running.

Cheveyo was still at Mason’s side. “Can I run to him?” Mason’s

body was coiling tight, an overwhelming urge to make him run after
his mate, but he had to make sure he didn’t fuck this up.

“Only your mate,” Cheveyo warned. “If you spot Newman, do not

go to him.”

Mason was gone before the man finished speaking, bursting into

his changeling form as he went after Ian. His mate wasn’t very fast,
but was still too far ahead of him. Mason leaned forward as he ran, his

Rise to Submit

159

paws crushing the earth below him as he tried to gain speed to catch
his mate.

Newman appeared in front of him and Mason skidded to a halt,

yowling furiously at the vampire, and then a thunderous rumble
vibrated Mason’s chest.

He was pissed.
“What would you give me for the human?” Newman asked as he

stood in Mason’s way.

Mason instinctively shook his head, telling Newman without

words that there was going to be no bargain. He wanted to rip the
man’s throat out, but backed away instead. It went against everything
in him to move away from the vampire. He was the predator, not the
prey.

But he didn’t know the rules in this dream realm.
“Then watch him suffer.” Newman vanished right before Mason’s

eyes. He took off once more, but Ian was nowhere in sight. Mason
stilled and scented the air, but all he could smell was blood.

Ian’s blood. It was all around him, suffocating his lungs as he

heard Ian cry out for him.

Mason was getting really fucking tired of these games. All he

wanted to do was kill one rank-ass vampire and take his mate from
this godforsaken place. Instead, he was avoiding the vampire and
listening to a dead guy guide him.

There was something seriously wrong with that picture.
Mason dropped his head and took off toward the scream. His

muscles flexed and his fur ruffled as he headed in his mate’s
direction. His chest constricted to a painful tightness when he saw
Breed Hunters surrounding Ian, their guns aimed at his mate’s head.

They weren’t real.
None of this was real.
Mason stopped.

160 Lynn

Hagen

He glanced around, and then he let his mind go, allowing his

jaguar to take over. Cheveyo said to allow his changeling form to
guide him, and that was what Mason was going to do.

He charged after the Breed Hunters, his jaguar scenting the air,

telling Mason they weren’t really there, that they held no scent.

And then they were gone.
Mason moved closer to Ian’s prone body and covered it with his

furry one as he glanced around and wondered what was going to
happen next. Ian shivered under him, his fingers gripping Mason’s
black fur, pulling him closer as he whimpered.

“You are not supposed to do that!” Newman shouted with fierce

anger. “This is my world. You do not control the elements. I do!”

“It is Ian’s dream,” Mason corrected him with knowledge he

shouldn’t have as he shifted back to his human form. He wasn’t sure
how he knew this, but he knew that it was Ian who held the power
here, not Newman.

The only plausible reason Mason could think of for him being

able to control this realm was because he was Ian’s mate.

Newman shouted in rage and then rushed him. Mason shifted back

to his jaguar form and leapt. The vampire had come to him, so he was
free to kill the bastard.

But Newman wasn’t so easily defeated. The vampire fought with

honed skills, testing Mason’s strength as they locked in battle. He
tried to tell himself that Newman wasn’t real, but hell if the man
didn’t feel like it when his talons sunk into Mason’s side.

“You will die here and be trapped in the dream realm for all

eternity.” It wasn’t a warning, but a promise.

Mason roared as Newman sunk the talons in deeper. It felt like

they were scraping vital organs.

He wasn’t going to die here. Ian wasn’t going to die here.
But Newman was.

Rise to Submit

161

Mason doubled his efforts, fighting to get Newman’s dark claws

out of him and fighting to kill the man. It was taking every ounce of
concentration he had. The man was a very formidable opponent.

But he made the mistake of being overconfident. When Newman

pulled his talons free, he threw his head back and laughed.

And Mason went for his throat.
He took the vampire down and killed him, pulling skin from bone,

muscle from tissue. Mason didn’t stop with just tearing his throat out.
He wasn’t sure if that was enough to kill someone in the realm of
dreams, so he removed the heart as well every other fucking organ the
man owned.

“He is dead.”
Mason shifted back into his human form and reached down for

Ian, pulling his mate into his arms. “Get me the fuck out of here.”

Cheveyo stood there, power and strength shining all around him

like a shimmering halo.

The guide moved closer, and Mason could see the sorrow in the

man’s eyes. He wanted to ask about the betrayal Newman mentioned,
but Mason was anxious to get Ian out of there. “His fits are from the
venom in the vampire’s saliva. No one is aware that it is just as
poisonous as it is pleasurable. The venom is trying to eat away his
brain cells. Keep him clean and his seizures should fade away.”

Mason glanced down at Ian in his arms. His mate’s eyes were

closed, but he could see Ian’s chest rising and falling. When he
looked up, he was standing back in the plant.

“That was the creepiest shit I have ever seen!” Benito shouted as

Mason glanced around. “One minute the three of you were sitting
there, and then the old man disappeared, and you grabbed Ian and
stood as if someone was about to attack both of you.” Benito waved
his hands around wildly. “And then blood just appeared on your
body!”

“Where’d he go?” Mason asked as he looked to where Cheveyo’s

body should have been sitting. He knew the blood Benito was talking

162 Lynn

Hagen

about was from killing Newman. But he agreed with Benito. This was
some weird-ass shit.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Benito asked. He tossed his hands up in

the air and spread his fingers. “He just went poof.”

“So the man torturing Ian is dead?” Rick asked.
“Fuck yeah.” Mason turned and began to walk away. “No one

messes with my friend and gets away with it.”

No one was going to mess with his mate and get away with it. Ian

was his, and Mason was going to protect the man with his life.

Rise to Submit

163

Chapter Nineteen

Rick sat on the bed in a motel room. He was so tired of not being

in his own bed that it wasn’t even funny. When the day came when he
was able to return home, Rick wasn’t leaving his house for a year.

Maybe longer.
He held the envelope in his hand from Edward, wondering what

the rat king had found. His brother-in-law had said he didn’t want to
talk about the files over the phone, which made Rick curious as hell.

When he opened the large manila envelope, there were a few

pieces of paper inside. Rick pulled them free and turned them over,
reading the first page’s contents.

It seemed he was being blamed for the detention center and the

twelve deaths. Now, blowing up the walls of the detention center and
freeing the changelings he could take credit for, but the deaths were
on the guards’ heads. If they hadn’t been trying to stop the
changelings from getting to their young, the deaths would have never
occurred—or not so many. They were experimenting on changelings,
after all.

What in the hell had the guards expected when keeping parents

from their children? Rick was just surprised there weren’t more than
twelve deaths.

The second piece of paper contained the proof that Dyson

Pharmaceuticals was funding the Breed Hunters, but Rick already
knew about that. He would have Nate stash the paper away with all
the other evidence they had come across—the false court documents
blaming him for the changelings’ death down by the waterfront, and
the proof that Sellers Pharmaceuticals had the college blown up.

164 Lynn

Hagen

The next page stated that Sellers Pharmaceuticals had two

facilities they were claiming as test laboratories, but Edward noted on
the page that changelings had been seen secreted into the places, and
it looked as if they were going in under duress.

Edward also noted that Anthony Oswego was heading up one of

the research labs. Rick realized in that moment that it wasn’t Garrett
who didn’t want baby Kell to be taken, but Oswego. The man was
apparently a scientist, and it probably gutted him to watch Deluca and
Brooke walk out with his prized project—Oswego’s words, not
Rick’s.

Rick set the papers aside that he had read, which left one final

document in his hands.

His heart went from calm and relaxed to slamming in his chest as

he read the entire page twice.

CONFIDENTIAL:

April 16, 2056

The DNA tests you requested have confirmed that Enrique

Fernando Marcelo, male child born May 12, 2022, is indeed your
biological son. Tested DNA has also revealed that the male child is a
carrier of the lycanthropy disease. The strain of breed is undetermined
without further testing of the subject. I have destroyed the evidence
and the samples as well, per your request.

James Sellers

Sellers Pharmaceuticals

Rick glanced at the bottom of the paper, feeling his stomach twist

so tightly into knots that he was cramping in pain and finding it hard

Rise to Submit

165

to breathe as his entire world fell down around him. The letter was
addressed to Captain O’Hanlon, Naval Special Warfare.

* * * *

O’Hanlon sat behind his desk staring at the far wall, lost in

thought. Tech had phoned him to tell him that his computer had been
hacked by an outside source and that some confidential files had been
downloaded.

He knew he should have destroyed that confirmation letter over a

year ago when he received it. But he had kept it as a reminder of why
he was fighting this war.

Enrique should have been arrested months ago when he was

accused of killing those changelings. The whole operation had been
sloppily put together and executed with amateurs leading up the case.
First, they arrested the wrong person, and then when they finally got
the name right, they let Enrique slip away from them.

He should have handled it himself, but O’Hanlon was trying to

distance himself from the situation. He had already killed to keep his
secret. His then-assistant a year ago had come across the letter.
O’Hanlon had to take care of him before the young man could say a
word.

O’Hanlon ran his hand over his chin as he sighed. If he had

known back then about changelings, he would have been more careful
on leave when he slept with the young girl on vacation with her
parents.

But Enrique’s mother had to go and hunt O’Hanlon down,

claiming he needed to get to know his son.

O’Hanlon didn’t have a son.
Enrique was an animal.
It had taken him years to find out where Zeya Estra lived. It

seemed her and her mate had moved around a lot and quite a few
times had left no forwarding address.

166 Lynn

Hagen

It might have been the fact that O’Hanlon had tried to kill Zeya

when he found out the truth. But the fact still remained that he finally
found the bitch, under her married name Zeya Marcelo. He had her
and her mate killed, but couldn’t find their brats.

Years later O’Hanlon thought Enrique was dead, but the dumbass

he had sent to kill the animal had killed Enrique’s brother instead.

The man was proving very hard to get rid of, but O’Hanlon wasn’t

going to give up. He finally found a way to get rid of the bastard
before anyone found out he’d fathered an animal.

He just wasn’t sure how he was going to handle the incriminating

download. He had the tech track down who stole the files, and he was
told a team was on their way to Nevada.

O’Hanlon prayed it was Enrique who hacked into his computer.

Then the son of a bitch would know why he was dying when the team
showed up and eviscerated his ass.

* * * *

Ian opened his eyes, glancing around the unfamiliar room. There

was a cheap painting on the wall, a lake scene of some sort. There
was also a television sitting on a dresser, an alarm clock, and a small
plastic holder with motel pamphlets.

He lay there, listening, holding his breath. The last thing he

remembered was seeing a black jaguar tear Newman to pieces.

But this could be a trick. There was no telling what Newman was

capable of doing. The man had tortured him in ways that would
forever leave a scar on Ian’s soul, and right now he wanted to believe
he was safe, but he didn’t trust the vampire.

A light snore made Ian turn his head. He stilled, his eyes raking

over Mason’s face, watching him as the man slept. For the past few
days Ian had been seeing and hearing things that he knew not to be
real. He was sleep deprived in the worst way. Was this another
illusion? Was Mason really lying next to him?

Rise to Submit

167

Had Newman found the ultimate way to torture him?
Ian slid from the bed, making sure not to jostle the sleeping man.

He needed time away from everyone. For over a week Ian had been
constantly surrounded, constantly watched. He needed time to take
everything in, time to think.

He moved across the room, sitting in the corner, pulling his legs

up to his chest, and took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. A fine
thread of suffocating panic was trying to settle inside of him, but Ian
was fighting to keep it out. Mason had said that they were friends.
The man had told Ian that he didn’t need a Master.

Mason had no idea just how much Ian craved one.
A good one, not the way the vampires were with him, but

someone who knew what Ian needed, what he had desired for so long.
He hugged his legs, resting his cheek on his knees, wishing someone
would take him as theirs, and that someone would take over for him.

A chill began to fill Ian. Not because he was cold, but because he

was so utterly alone. He had Dorian, but the man still didn’t
understand Ian, even if they were talking now.

Nobody understood him.
Having his brother back was great, but the void he felt deep inside

of him hadn't been filled. He was still lost in his own mind, his own
world, and it seemed he would remain that way for the rest of his life.

No one wanted to take him on. Ian was left to fend for himself and

that was the most terrifying feeling in the world.

Mason would have been the perfect person, but the guy was

pretending nothing was wrong, using friendship to try and fill the hole
that had been eating away at Ian for years. Sadly, the man didn’t
understand Ian either.

Ian blinked a few times as he stared into the dark room and knew

now that he was fully awake and that Newman had truly died.

Now that Newman was gone, Ian felt like there was no one he

could—oh god, why was he thinking this way? Newman had been a

168 Lynn

Hagen

twisted and sick fuck, and Ian was sitting here in the dark missing
him. That only showed how screwed up he truly was.

But knowing he had someone had made things a little easier to

bear. Now he had nothing but a craving to be dominated, to be loved.
Calico and Newman hadn’t given Ian what he needed, definitely not
love, but they had given him something.

Something…
Having something—even if it was nightmarish—was better than

having nothing at all.

Ian raked his hands through his hair, feeling the chill grow deeper.

For years he had craved, needed, thirsted, and desired, and those
feelings hadn’t gone away. They had only gotten worse, more intense,
eating away at him with such deep hunger that Ian thought he was
going to go mad.

“What are you doing down there?”
The deep rumble of Mason’s voice brought Ian from his thoughts.

He pulled his hands from his hair as he tilted his head up, looking at
Mason lying in the bed, his eyes filled with sleep and concern.

“I—” Ian wanted to say he was starving, that his body was caving

in on itself from lack of guidance and someone to make him feel
clean—but he closed his mouth, knowing Mason didn’t want to hear
any of that and most definitely wouldn’t understand what Ian was
going through.

Mason’s light-blue eyes were penetrating, so piercing that Ian

turned his head and looked away. Ian felt ashamed at what he craved
and what he desired. Having Mason watch him as he silently fell apart
in the corner of some unfamiliar room only solidified Ian’s belief that
he was so utterly alone.

Just a junkie.
Nothing special.
Nothing spectacular.

Rise to Submit

169

He heard Mason moving around, and then the man was down at

Ian’s side, pulling him into such a powerful embrace that Ian wasn’t
sure if he should push the man away or cry.

“You’re not alone.”
Ian rested his cheek against Mason’s chest, wishing the man was

speaking the truth, but knew they were just softly spoken words,
empty and void of any real truth.

“Ian, you have to tell me what’s going on with you. How can I

help you if I don’t know?” Mason cupped the back of Ian’s head, his
fingers giving his scalp a gentle massage. Whether Mason knew it or
not, right now, with what he was doing, he was giving Ian more than
he had had in a very long time.

“Heal me,” Ian said in a tortured whisper, clutching Mason’s shirt.
Mason pulled Ian back, just an inch, but enough to study his eyes.

“How?”

Ian pushed at Mason’s chest. When the man let him go, Ian

moved away. He positioned himself on his knees, lay forward, and
then clasped his hands behind his back, resting his cheek on the
carpet.

“Ian?” Mason’s voice was barely audible. “I’m not sure what you

want me to do.”

Ian lifted his head. He had to blink a few times to keep back the

tears. “Whatever your heart tells you to do.”

Ian held his breath, praying—god, he was praying so hard that his

head began to hurt and his stomach became one big nerve that was
twisting and locking as he lay there, waiting.

Mason moved closer, his heat brushing the surface of Ian’s side.

He wanted that heat to envelop him so badly that Ian damn near
begged.

He felt the featherlight touch on his back. Ian’s eyes fluttered

closed as his breathing became shallow but quick.

Soft fingers slid down his spine and then tentatively touched his

entwined hands. Ian didn’t move. He didn’t breathe—his mind froze

170 Lynn

Hagen

as Mason moved closer, his other hand brushing gently over Ian’s
hair.

“Your skin is so soft.” A silken whisper that made Ian’s nerve

endings ignite, chasing away the chill lying just under his skin.

When Mason’s hands began to move away, Ian almost collapsed

with disappointment. “Please,” Ian said in desperate hunger, a hunger
that was tearing him to pieces. “Don’t stop, please, Mason.”

“Just touch you?”
“Yes, please.” Ian wanted more, but touching was a start. He

would take whatever Mason gave him. Ian’s breath stuttered when
Mason’s finger traced the shell of his ear. He moved his head, leaning
into the touch. Ian knew better than to move, but he was starving for
attention, craving what Mason was so willingly giving him at the
moment.

“Sit up.” The command was sharp.
Ian pushed to his knees and was shocked when Mason gripped his

hair and pulled his head back, his lips pressing hard into Ian’s.
Mason’s other hand continued to skim over Ian’s skin, setting small
fires wherever the man’s hand touched him. He still didn’t understand
his reaction to Mason. Usually when someone touched him like this,
their hands on his body, Ian was repulsed, praying they left him alone.

Now, he only wanted more.
“Mine,” Mason growled into Ian’s mouth.
Ian tilted his head back, his lips parted, his chest rising and falling

rapidly as Mason gazed into his eyes. “I tried to give you friendship,
but I can scent a hunger so deep inside of you that it has wrapped
around your heart and is slowly killing you,” Mason stated with a
fierce tone that made Ian shiver.

“It is,” Ian admitted with a shaky breath.
There was a hard glint in Mason’s eyes. Ian wasn’t sure where it

had come from, but the etched lines around the man’s mouth told Ian
that Mason wasn’t playing around. He was dead serious.

Rise to Submit

171

“You’re mine, Ian.” The words were spoken through a clenched

jaw as Mason’s eyes turned to blue fire. “You will forget everything
those bloodsucking vampires have ever taught you. Understood?”

Ian’s eyes closed to half-mast, his lips curving into the first real

smile he had felt in longer than he could remember. “Yes.”

Mason’s hand skimmed down Ian’s throat. His smile faltered and

for a second fear filled Ian. He was savagely choked whenever
Newman had done the same thing. Ian wanted to struggle, to push
Mason’s hand away, but the hand didn’t close around him. It just
stayed on his neck, unmoving. Ian’s fear began to slowly fade when
he realized that Mason wasn’t going to hurt him.

“Better?” Mason asked after a long moment of intense silence.
Ian gave a slight nod.
“I will erase every trigger those bastards have instilled in you.”

Mason was staring into Ian’s eyes, but he wasn’t sure if the man was
talking to Ian or himself.

Ian wasn’t sure where this aggressive behavior was coming from,

either. Mason had been nothing but gentle with him. It was as if a
switch had been clicked on inside of the guy.

“I’m jaguar, Ian.” Mason said, as if answering Ian’s thoughts.

“I’m aggressive, possessive, and dominating as hell. It’s hardwired
into my DNA. You want me to take over your life and give you what
you are hungry for?”

Ian nodded as a warm power began to sink deep inside of him,

claiming his frigid depth, setting fire to a place that had been glacial
for so long.

“Then I can do this only one way.” Mason leaned closer, running

his cheek over Ian’s, his fingers that had been resting on Ian’s throat
reaching up and sliding through his hair, giving it a light tug. “My
way,” Mason stated firmly into Ian’s ear.

“Can I ask something of you?” Ian’s voice was shaky, proof that

he was teetering on the edge of hope and desperation.

172 Lynn

Hagen

Mason glanced at him, and the stroke of his eyes was a sensual

caress that Ian could almost feel. “Go ahead.”

Ian felt a fine tremor begin to vibrate inside of him as he locked

eyes with Mason. “Never let me go.”

Rise to Submit

173

Chapter Twenty

Mason held on to Ian, needing the closeness as all changelings

did, but giving Ian what he needed as well. The man was filled with
so many scars—physical and emotional—that Mason feared he
wouldn’t be able to heal the man.

Ian was his to hold, his mate, a man who was so lost inside

himself that Mason was determined to reach him and pull him into the
light. He had feared his reaction to Ian. The reaction that made Mason
want to dominate the man—the aggressive urge to control his every
move. But it seemed Ian needed just that. Ian was begging for Mason
to unleash the Dom he held inside of him.

If that was what it took to heal his mate, to help him through this

hell he had lived in for so long, then Mason would be whatever Ian
needed him to be.

He knew what Ian meant when he asked Mason to never let him

go. The smaller man wasn’t asking to be hugged. “You are my mate,
Ian. There isn’t a chance in hell I’ll ever leave your side.”

Ian looked confused for a second and then he nodded. “When you

bit me,” he murmured.

“Yes,” Mason answered. “When I bit you, I was trying to get you

away from Newman, to cast him out, but it also bound us together,
something I don’t regret happening.”

Mason moved, slowly, sinuously, like a lazy cat as he pulled Ian

up to straddle his lap. “But I still haven’t claimed you in the way that
I have been craving to.” His fingers moved to the drawstring of Ian’s
pants.

174 Lynn

Hagen

“Mason,” Ian said, and Mason could scent his mate’s fear once

more. It wasn’t overwhelming, but enough to give him pause.

“Yes?” His fingers played at the waistband as he waited for Ian to

tell him what was wrong. When the man said nothing, Mason glanced
up. “Answer me, Ian,” Mason said firmly. He was beginning to
realize that the man wasn’t as forthcoming as Mason would like if he
didn't demand it from Ian. It dawned on Mason that just talking to Ian
wasn’t going to always work. The man had been horribly abused and
very skittish.

But who wouldn’t be after what those vampires had done to the

small human?

“I don’t…” Ian looked down to where Mason was playing with

his mate’s skin, teasing it, running the tips of his fingers over Ian’s
navel, making small circles, and then gliding back down to the
waistband. He wasn’t going to stop tracing Ian’s skin. Not only did
Mason crave touch, but he was showing his mate that touching was
going to be a very integral part of their lives.

“Like sex,” Ian finished with a loud swallow.
Mason shouldn’t have been stunned after what the man had been

through, but he was. He managed to keep the surprised look off of his
face as he lifted Ian’s hand, placing the delicate fingers on his chest.
Ian’s hand was shaking as Mason said, “I’m your source of strength.
When you feel like you are slipping through the cracks and falling to
the depths of what those monsters have done to you, reach for me. I’ll
always be where you need me to be.”

Ian curled his fingers into Mason’s shirt, giving it a slight tug.

“The sorrow eats at me. I feel so damn alone. I’m starving for
someone, anyone to take me under their wing and show me what it
should be like. I can barely breathe most days. I’m constantly
screaming inside my head from a dark abyss that refuses to let me
go.”

The man was breaking Mason’s heart once more, but he had to

make Ian see the truth. “That abyss is you, Ian. The only one refusing

Rise to Submit

175

to let go is you. Submit to me, in every way, and I promise, with time,
the darkness you feel will fade.”

“Every way?” Ian asked, his eyes skeptical.
Mason leaned forward and nipped Ian’s chin, even though he

knew the man was averse to biting. He was going to get his mate past
that as well. When he sank his teeth into Ian’s shoulder, Mason was
going to make damn sure the man associated biting with him—not
vampires, and most certainly not getting high. “Every way, Ian.”

The beast yowled softly as Mason stood, carrying Ian to the bed.

“Tonight is about trust, Ian. You will give me yours and I will show
you that you have nothing to fear from me.”

Because even though they had kissed before tonight, and Ian had

tried in the past to give himself to Mason, fear had been the
overwhelming scent coming off of the man.

But tonight, Mason was going to show the small human just what

pleasure was all about. He was going to gain Ian’s trust and show the
man there was nothing in the world that would make Mason hurt him.

Mason laid his mate on the bed and then pulled the man’s shirt

over his head, but didn’t take it fully off. The shirt trapped Ian’s arms
behind his back, leaving Ian totally vulnerable to Mason.

His mate’s pale skin was revealed to him, two brown nipples

peaked, but it was the many scars that Mason traced his fingers over.
They weren’t his marks, but another’s, and they hadn’t been given to
Ian with love.

The knowledge made his jaguar growl.
His mate lay there, one foot planted on the bed, the other dangling

over the edge. His cobalt-blue eyes were watching Mason’s fingers,
his slim chest taking in shallow breaths.

Ian was nervous. Mason could not only see it in the man’s eyes,

but scent it as well.

Mason took a step back, appraising how beautiful Ian looked

semi-trapped on the bed. “This is the beginning, Ian.”

Ian’s head lifted, his eyes rising only as far as Mason’s chest.

176 Lynn

Hagen

“Look at me,” Mason commanded evenly, firmly. “You will meet

my eyes when I’m speaking to you.”

It looked like Ian was struggling to do as Mason ordered, but he

finally met Mason’s gaze, although his eyes kept flickering, as if he
was fighting not to look away.

“Tonight is also about you.” Mason stepped forward and let his

fingers wander back down toward Ian’s waistband, “about giving you
something you’ve never had before.”

Ian looked like he wasn’t sure if he should bolt from the room or

trust Mason. “W–What is that?”

“Pleasure.” Mason reached inside Ian’s thin pants, circling his

hand around Ian’s flaccid cock. His thumb began to caress the head,
giving the soft shaft small strokes. “No pain, Ian. Just pleasure.”
Mason knelt before Ian, pulling the pants down Ian’s waist and taking
the man’s limp shaft into his mouth.

Ian gasped, his hips jerking. Mason had a feeling receiving oral

sex was something Ian had never had the pleasure of feeling. That
was going to change. This wasn’t only about what Ian needed, but
showing him things he didn’t even know he wanted.

As Mason licked around the soft skin, Ian’s cock began to

lengthen. He placed his hands under Ian’s thighs, pulling away long
enough to lift the man’s legs, and then engulfed his mate’s now-hard
cock once again. When he glanced up, Ian’s hands were scrambling
on the bed, grabbing at the blankets, curling into the thin fabric until
his knuckles turned white.

Mason knew the man was starving for affection, hurting for

someone to love him the way only a…Master could. He didn’t want
Ian to call him Master, though. Sir would do just fine. The man had
waited a lifetime for this, and Mason was going to give him
everything he needed, everything he craved, and so much more.

Ian whimpered, his legs shaking.
Mason pulled away. “Tell me how I make you feel. I want to hear

the noises you are holding back. Whisper in the dark, give me what

Rise to Submit

177

you’ve never given anyone else.” His mate had feared for so long, had
held back what he really wanted. No more. Mason was going to help
Ian become the man he knew Ian could be.

Ian cried out, his voice strangled, high-pitched, and tear-filled as

Mason swallowed him down. The smaller man’s body shuddered,
shook, and writhed as Mason used Ian’s hard cock to fuck his own
mouth. His fingers gripped Ian’s thighs harder, but not enough to
cause pain.

There would be no pain when showing Ian how good sex would

be between them.

When Ian’s arms began to flail, Mason used one arm to hold his

mate’s thighs up and used the other to grab his mate’s wrist. He gave
it a firm squeeze. Ian immediately gave Mason the other free arm.

He held both wrists with his other hand as Mason fucked Ian’s

cock with his mouth. Ian pulled at Mason’s hold, but Mason didn’t let
go. He knew Ian didn’t want him to let go. The man was testing his
boundaries, seeing if Mason would relent. There would be no
relenting. Mason had already told his mate that things were going to
be done his way.

He wasn’t going to hold back and he wasn’t going to allow Ian to

feel unsafe any longer.

Mason gave a sharp growl, giving his mate the added pleasure of

the vibrations as well as a warning to stop trying to pull free.

A pulse of heated desire shot through Mason to mount his mate

and claim him. But he knew he could hold back. Ian wasn’t ready for
full penetration. Besides, tasting his mate was just as pleasurable for
him as he knew it was for Ian.

His mate’s balls drew up close to his body, but Ian was still

fighting against his release, his head thrashing back and forth. Mason
drove Ian’s cock down his throat, sucking him hard, and tightened his
hand on Ian’s wrists, all in the same moment.

Ian’s body arched off of the bed, a strangled cry falling from his

lips as a harsh burst of seed pulsed down Mason’s throat. He could

178 Lynn

Hagen

feel the perspiration on Ian’s skin and knew the man had fought his
climax tooth and nail.

But Mason never gave up that easily.
Ian’s body jerked as Mason slowly let the limp cock slip from

between his lips, lowering Ian’s legs down toward the bed. His teeth
ached to claim Ian, but Mason ground his jaw, pulling control over his
jaguar.

As Ian lay there panting, Mason rose to his feet and began to

smooth his hands over Ian’s body. Ian’s eyes fluttered opened and
then fell to Mason’s groin.

Mason shook his head as his hands roamed over Ian’s still-shaky

legs. “Not tonight, Ian. Right now I want you to take a shower so you
can sleep better.”

Ian scooted from the bed, took his clothes the rest of the way off,

and then wandered into the bathroom.

Mason sat on the edge of the bed, running his hands over his head,

wondering…just wondering. He had always longed for a mate. He
just had no clue he was going to get one who was so damaged.
Leaning his head back, Mason let out a long breath, and that was
when he noticed the shower wasn’t running.

Getting up from the bed, Mason strode to the bathroom. The door

was ajar, so he pushed it until he saw Ian sitting on the closed toilet
seat, staring at his hands.

“I’ve never felt anything like that,” Ian confessed as he continued

to stare at his hands.

Not only had Mason brought the man pleasure, but confusion as

well. Mason moved into the cramped room, squatting down in front of
his mate. Without a word, he pulled Ian’s hands behind his back,
shackled his wrists, and then pulled the man forward until Ian was
lying against his chest.

“That’s because you’ve never had anyone that cared about you.”
Ian’s eyes were filled with fear and confusion when they flickered

up to Mason’s. “And now I do?”

Rise to Submit

179

His whisper was soft and hesitant as if Ian had never conceived of

the idea, even if he had longed for it. Mason smiled and trailed his
fingers down the side of Ian’s face.

“Now you do.”
Neither said a word after that, but Mason could scent his mate’s

unease fading. He rested his chin on Ian’s head, taking in the moment,
letting his jaguar purr with contentment as Ian gave a small sigh.

180 Lynn

Hagen

Chapter Twenty-One

“It all makes so much sense now,” Freedman said as he held the

piece of paper in his hand that Rick had given him. “Your father.
Fuck, this is more screwed up than I thought.” Freedman leaned
against the wall. “When my team was first given the assignment to
kill you, my gut told me it ran deeper than what O’Hanlon was telling
me. None of it had made any sense.”

Rick sat there silently, his mind in total chaos. He remembered the

man who had raised him clearly, vividly. Never once had Rick felt
like he didn’t belong, like he wasn’t Estevez’s son. The man had
loved Rick like any father should love his child.

So why hadn’t his parents told him that his father was actually his

stepfather? The betrayal hurt deeper than anyone would know. He felt
as though his entire childhood was built on lies and deceit. That might
be a bit extreme, but not when Rick trusted very few.

Had Isabelle known? Rick wanted to ask her, but not when she

was already going through problems with her pregnancy.

“So what do you want to do from here?” Sasha asked as he leaned

back in the chair, gazing fixedly at Rick. “Do you feel any familial
ties with the man?”

Rick shook his head. “No, and especially not since I know he

started a war in order to kill me.” Rick couldn’t fathom how a father
wanted his son dead when the situation was in Mason’s lap. But now
that he knew the truth, it sickened him to his core. Thousands were
dying. Changelings were being hunted down and killed, or
experimented on—all for the sake of one man’s plot to take out his

Rise to Submit

181

son. Rick had never met the man, but he was pretty damn sure he
would hate him on sight.

“They had to have had a reason for keeping this from you,”

Dorian said as he leaned into Rick’s side. Rick lifted his arm and
pulled Dorian closer, needing the anchor.

“Then I say we kill the son of a bitch,” Sasha stated. “If you hold

no loyalties to the man, then killing him shouldn’t be an issue.”

It shouldn’t, but Rick wanted some answers before the man died.

He held no love in his heart for the human, but wondered what his
pack would do when they found out Rick was a half breed. Would
that change the minds of the Rebellions who were fighting for him,
with him, all around the nation?

“We still need to destroy the other detention centers,” Rick said,

although his mind was a million miles away. “We have to free as
many of our species as we can. O’Hanlon will still be there in
Washington when we are done. Freeing the changelings comes before
that man’s death.”

Rick would never call that man his father. No matter the reason

his parents withheld this information, Estevez would always be his
dad. He knew the man had loved him, and Rick decided right then and
there that it was all that mattered to him.

“The two locations are Nevada and New Mexico,” Freedman said

as he laid the piece of paper on the dresser. “I can call Jordison and
Corrigan back in. Which center do you want to attack first?”

Rick lifted his head, staring at Freedman as he felt the anger inside

him begin to mount. He may be O’Hanlon’s biological son, but the
man meant nothing to him. If the monster wanted Rick dead, he was
going to have one hell of a fight on his hands. “New Mexico.”

Freedman nodded. “New Mexico it is. We’ll head out first thing in

the morning.”

Rick needed Nate and Selene. He would have to call his top

enforcer and find out how long he would be. Although Rick wanted

182 Lynn

Hagen

Edward and Isabelle safe, Nate was the man Rick wanted at his side
when he battled the humans.

Everyone except Dorian left Rick’s room. Rick sat there, feeling

the anger begin to ease.

“Just because he donated the sperm doesn’t make him a father,”

Dorian said. “The man wants you dead. I think we should return the
favor.”

Rick chuckled. God, he loved his mate. “You think so, Mr.

Bloodthirsty?”

His mate shrugged. “As Sasha pointed out, you hold no loyalties

to the man.”

“No,” Rick said as he pulled his arm from around Dorian, “I

don’t.”

“But it has to be a head fuck,” Dorian said quietly from beside

him. “You don’t know him and you don’t love him, but…damn.”

“Yeah.” Rick nodded. His thoughts exactly.
“So, would a blow job help you forget your troubles for the

moment?” Dorian bounced his eyebrows at Rick, making him grin.

“I’m pretty damn sure it would.” Rick stood, turning to face his

mate as he undid his pants and freed his hard erection. “Let’s find
out.”

Dorian laughed as he leaned back. “You have to get naked and

straddle my face in order to get the full effect.”

“Do I, gatito?” Rick asked playfully.
“Yes, Mr. Marcelo, you do.”
“You know it turns me on when you call me that,” Rick said in a

husky tone as he pulled his jeans off.

Dorian licked his lips as his eyes dropped down to Rick’s groin.

“Mmm, my district manager wants me to work overtime.”

Rick paused. “You know, sometimes I forget about the life before

this war started. I forget that I used to watch you walking around the
store whenever I was there, and making me hard as a rock.”

Rise to Submit

183

’Dorian's face lit up with a grin. “I thought you said you would

have never talked to me.”

“I wouldn’t have, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t noticed how

gorgeous you were.”

Dorian reached up and pulled at Rick’s hips. “You’re talking too

much. You are supposed to be slipping me that dick of yours.”

Rick’s eyes hooded as he crawled onto the bed and over his mate.

He took his shirt off and tossed it aside, palming his cock. He slid the
head across Dorian’s lips, his mate’s tongue chasing the pre-cum that
was dripping from the tiny slit.

“Let me paint your lips.”
Dorian grinned at him and then pulled his tongue back in, opening

his mouth wider as Rick tapped those beautiful lips with the bulbous
head.

A pulse shot through Rick’s shaft when Dorian flicked his tongue

out and licked the wet mess from his lips.

Fuck, the man was sexy as hell. He hitched his hips forward,

feeding his mate just an inch, and then pulled away. Dorian stuck his
tongue out and then placed a hand on Rick’s cock, licking the side
from base to tip.

Sweet, agonizing torture.
Dorian’s tongue wiggled at the skin just beneath the head, setting

Rick’s heart to pounding as his balls drew up close. The pressure was
building too quickly. Rick needed release desperately. He grabbed
Dorian’s hair and pumped into his mate’s mouth, his seed spurting
down the man’s throat.

Rick slumped forward, but he wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot.

He had pent-up frustrations and a need so deep for his mate that his
cock was still hard as steel.

“Really?” Dorian asked as he looked at Rick’s erection. “I must

be losing my damn touch.”

Rick kissed the side of his mate’s head, running his hands over

Dorian’s side. “Or I just can’t get enough of you, gatito.”

184 Lynn

Hagen

Dorian’s Peruvian-brown eyes softened. “I hope you are still

saying that in twenty years.”

Rick nuzzled into Dorian’s neck, inhaling his scent. “I’ll always

crave your touch, mate.”

“Show me,” Dorian challenged in a rough whisper.
Rick could see his mate panting as he lay back, watching Rick as

he came over his mate.

“Challenge accepted.” He could see the need darkening Dorian’s

eyes. The scent of his mate’s arousal was a sweet fragrance clinging
to the air, making Rick drunk from the powerful aroma. It was a dark
honey that caressed over Rick’s skin like a gentle hand, gripping his
groin in a carnal fire.

His lips moved to Dorian’s ear, his tongue swirling around it

sensually as Dorian seemed to struggle for breath. “I’m going to fuck
that tight little ass of yours,” Rick whispered as his lips stroked over
Dorian’s collarbone.

Dorian ran his fingers over Rick’s hair, moaning, writhing beneath

him. “But you have to get undressed first, gatito.”

His mate looked like he was struggling to think, to understand

what Rick had just said. He smiled as he reached down and
unsnapped Dorian’s jeans. “Get undressed.”

Dorian jerked around underneath Rick until his pants flew over

the side of the bed and his shirt was tossed over his head. Rick
chuckled at the desperation in Dorian’s eyes.

His mate shuddered harshly as Rick palmed Dorian’s erection,

stroking it a few times before releasing the hard shaft and grabbing
the lube from the nightstand drawer.

Rick leaned back, wet his fingers, and then slid two fingers into

Dorian’s tight entrance as his free hand curled around his mate’s
cock. Rick stroked one hand and plunged his fingers deep with the
other.

Rise to Submit

185

His mate’s back arched as Dorian groaned, impaling his ass on

Rick’s fingers repeatedly. Rick licked his lips as he watched his
fingers disappear into his mate’s body. It was such an erotic sight.

His excitement was building to bury his cock deep in his mate’s

ass. Rick inserted a third finger, watching Dorian’s eyes flutter closed
as he curled his fingers over Rick’s, helping him stroke his mate’s
cock.

Rick’s canines elongated. He wanted to bite, to claim, but held

back. He would bite his mate when he was cock deep inside the man.

“You have to fuck me, Rick. I’m too damn close.”
Rick slipped his fingers free and lined his cock up, thrusting deep,

making Dorian cry out as he clutched at Rick’s shoulders. Rick placed
his hands on either side of Dorian’s head as his mate hitched his legs
onto Rick’s hips.

“That’s it, gatito. Take all of me.” He slammed into Dorian’s ass

on the last word. He needed his mate with a hunger he couldn’t
control and didn’t want to control. His thrusts became savage as Rick
leaned down and bit into Dorian’s shoulder.

Dorian cried out. Hot cum splashed against Rick’s stomach as he

moved inside his mate, the sound of skin colliding ringing out in the
small motel room. Hard and fast, he slammed into Dorian’s ass,
driving himself to the edge of madness and beyond.

He could feel his eyes shifting, glowing as his canines sank

deeper. Dorian pushed up into each driving thrust, crying out Rick’s
name.

Rick moved changeling fast, his hips thrusting at lightning speed

as he was driven mad with his mate’s body. As his climax hit, Rick
pulled his canines free and howled out his release, burying his cock so
deep that their flesh molded together. His seed spurted inside his
mate’s hot, tight ass, draining Rick of all his energy.

Dorian went limp, his eyes closing as he licked his lips. “Now that

was taking your mind off of things.” His mate sighed and Rick
nuzzled the mating mark as he pulled his cock free.

186 Lynn

Hagen

He curled his body around Dorian’s and pulled his mate close,

holding on to him as the euphoric feeling lingered just beneath Rick’s
skin.

He knew that in twenty years he would still want Dorian just as

much as he wanted the man now. Because there was no way in hell
these feelings would ever dissipate.

Rise to Submit

187

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ian fidgeted with his pants as Mason took a seat by the window.

He really wasn’t used to wearing clothes, and they felt as though they
were constricting his skin.

“Hands behind your back,” Mason ordered.
Ian almost sighed at Mason’s commanding tone as he placed his

hands behind his back. The clothes were still irritating as hell but he’d
do whatever he had to do to keep Mason talking to him like that.

“We need to have a talk.”
Ian stiffened. Was Mason going to tell him that what Ian needed

was too much? Ian knew he wouldn’t be able to handle the rejection.
He finally had some hope to cling to. If Mason tossed him aside, Ian
wasn’t sure what he was going to do. The man was becoming Ian’s
world. It was something totally unexpected, but Ian knew he would
fight to keep Mason in his life. The man was good to Ian, and Ian
didn’t want to lose that.

“I want to talk to you about what’s going on between us.”
“O–Okay.” Ian felt his body begin to shake with fear, but he used

long-time practice to hold every muscle in place.

“First,” Mason said as he relaxed back in his seat, “we need to talk

about a contract.”

Ian glanced up at Mason, although it was still hard for him to

make eye contact. He wasn’t used to boldly looking a Dom in his
eyes. His thoughts went back to what the jaguar had said and knew
that what Mason had said wasn’t what Ian had expected to hear. He
almost collapsed with relief. “A contract?”

188 Lynn

Hagen

Mason nodded. “I want things clear between us so there is no

guessing what the other person needs. A contract states my rules and
your boundaries. It keeps both of us safe. It means I’m not going to
use you, abuse you, and then toss you out. I have a responsibility to
take care of you. The flip side of that is that you have a responsibility
to let me know what your boundaries are. It states what your safe
word is and that it’s okay for you to use your safe word if I go beyond
those boundaries.”

It took a second for Ian to catch on to what Mason was saying

because Mason was telling Ian everything he had always wanted to
hear.

It didn’t seem real.
The ache inside of him to belong was so strong now that Ian

wasn’t sure he could speak. Mason was setting rules, something
Calico and Newman had never done before. The man sitting in front
of him with such a relaxed pose was taking this seriously. Ian was
terrified that he would wake up at any moment and realize he was still
in the club, dreaming. “So what are your rules?” Ian asked as he tried
his best not to fidget. Excitement was building inside of him at what
Mason was handing Ian, and he felt the happiness—and a little
apprehension—bubbling inside of him.

Raw confidence seemed to surround Mason in a thick, powerful

blanket as he spoke. His words were sure, even, and he didn’t
hesitate, not once. “I make the decisions. I make the rules. Your only
duty is to follow my rules and my orders—no one else’s.” Mason
paused for a moment, as if he were letting Ian soak in what he was
saying before he went on.

“Essentially I’m the center of your universe. It’s going to take a

little while for you to understand my wants and needs. You’re going
to make mistakes. I expect that. But I also expect you to try your
hardest to follow my rules.”

Ian cocked his head, pulling in everything Mason had just said

and sifting through it slowly. “If this is all about you, then why should

Rise to Submit

189

I sign a contract?” Ian felt his body coil tightly when Mason leaned
forward. The predator in him could be seen shifting behind the man’s
light-blue eyes. It was like nothing Ian had ever seen before. The
power seemed to flow over the man’s skin, under it, and all around
him. For a moment he wondered what kind of hell he had gotten
himself into.

The fierceness remained on Mason’s face, but his touch was soft

as silk as he cradled Ian’s face in his hands. “Because it means that
you are mine and that I protect what is mine from anyone and
anything. Anyone breathes in your direction without my permission
and I’ll rip off their balls and shove them down their throat.”

Ian swallowed hard and spoke in a breathless whisper. “Okay.”
Mason stood and walked to the dresser, grabbing a piece of motel

stationary. He sat at the small table and began to write, then paused,
lifting his head to look at Ian. His eyes held flecks of yellow, and Ian
swore he saw them glowing. “Is there anything you aren’t willing to
do?”

Ian was caught off guard by Mason’s question. Was the man

writing the contract now? Right now? “I–I don’t want to be hit in any
way.”

Mason nodded and began to write again. “Anything else?” he

asked as he looked up again.

“Bitten,” Ian quickly added.
Mason set the pen down and turned to face Ian. “How about I put

a condition in the contract? I’m a changeling, Ian, and you are my
mate. Biting is a way we deepen our bond.”

Ian felt his stomach tie into knots at Mason’s statement. The man

wanted to bite him, but Ian had had nothing but painful memories
when it came to teeth. “What’s the condition?” he asked cautiously.

Mason waved Ian over. When Ian was standing in front of him,

Mason traced his hand over Ian’s bite mark—the one Mason had
given him when he bit Ian yesterday. He stood there shivering as
pleasure began to heat the skin where Mason was touching.

190 Lynn

Hagen

“My bite brings you pleasure as well, but it’s not addictive.”

Mason smiled at him, and Ian felt the butterflies in his stomach return.
“It could be addictive, but in a positive way. Rick bites Dorian.”

Ian stood there considering Mason’s words. He wasn’t going to

close the door on the subject, but he really wasn’t sure what he should
do. “He does?”

Mason gave Ian a nod. “Ask your brother to show you his mating

mark.”

Ian chewed his bottom lip, wondering if he should allow Mason to

bite him. That would be a huge step in trusting Mason. He glanced
down at the contract and knew he was already taking a big step with
Mason…but biting?

“The condition is that if you tell me no, I won’t bite.”
“It’s that easy?” Ian was being blindsided by Mason. The man

was willing to forgo the biting if Ian said no. Mason had told him that
the contract was binding. If Ian said no, then Mason had to abide by
his wish.

“It is.”
Ian took in a deep breath, praying he wasn't making a mistake, and

nodded. “Add the condition, then.” He wasn’t very trusting, yet
Mason was offering him everything he had ever wanted, craved.

“Give me your safe word. I want it to be something you don’t use

often, but will easily remember if you need to use it.”

Ian thought long and hard as he stood in front of Mason, his hands

tucked behind his back. “Art,” he finally said.

Mason stared at him for a few minutes and then smiled. “I’m

going to get you some supplies so you can start drawing again.”

Ian damn near cried. The man was someone he had never

expected to drop into his life, and would die if he ever lost. Ian had no
idea someone could be this special to him. He wanted to hug Mason,
but held his place, smiling instead. “I’d like that.”

Mason gently grabbed Ian by the back of his hair and pulled him

in for a kiss. “I’m also going to include the word ‘yellow.’”

Rise to Submit

191

“Yellow?”
Mason released Ian, sitting back in his chair. “You can use the

word ‘yellow.’ It won’t stop what were are doing, but by using that
word, you’re telling me things are getting too intense and you need
me to slow down.”

This was a lot for Ian to take in, but he understood what Mason

was telling him. Honestly, his body was humming just from the fact
of Mason wanting to sign a contract with him. But he was also leery.
He had been abused for so long that Ian was a bit intimidated to trust
that this was the real thing.

He gave Mason a slow nod, once again praying he was making the

right decision. “Yellow.”

Mason turned back toward the table and began writing again. Ian

stood there and waited. After about five minutes, Mason turned back
around and held the pen out to Ian. “Read this over and if you agree,
sign.”

Ian’s hand shook as he reached out for the pen, stepping closer to

the table, and then picked the piece of paper up. He read it over and
saw that it stated everything Mason had said to him. He hadn’t added
anything else, only the part where Ian said he didn’t want to be hit.

With a trembling hand, Ian signed on the dotted line Mason had

drawn. He let out a shaky breath as he set the pen down. He felt like
he had just signed his life away.

Mason picked the pen up and signed the contract as well.
“That’s it?”
Mason nodded as he folded the piece of paper up and tucked it

into his pocket. “That’s it, Ian.”

“Now what?”
Mason stood and grabbed the bag that was lying by the door. “We

have to get going. Everyone is heading out this morning.”

“Where are we going, Master?” Ian asked as he moved aside.
Mason glanced at him, and Ian stopped himself from taking a step

back at the feral expression on the man’s face. “Not Master. The

192 Lynn

Hagen

vampires used that term in a sadistic way with you. I don’t want you
using anything that you associate with them. Sir will do just fine.”

Ian rolled the word around on his tongue and then nodded, glad

Mason hadn’t dismissed his need for that connection without thought.
“Where are we going, Sir?”

“I’m not sure yet. I know the men met last night to discuss what to

do next. I’m pretty sure they are going to hit the next detention center,
though. We need to free the captured changelings.”

“We?” Ian asked, his mind scrambling to understand what Mason

was saying. Did he expect Ian to fight and help free the changelings?
He would, but Ian wasn’t a very good fighter. He was more liable to
get them killed than be of any help.

“No, Ian,” Mason said as he stopped, “you will not be fighting.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking, Sir?”
Mason stopped in front of him, his eyes penetrating. “First, you

don’t have to call me Sir every time you speak. Second, I can scent
your fear. From what I just explained to you, I deduced what you
were afraid of.”

It made sense. Ian glanced at his hands as he picked at his nails.

“I’m still afraid.”

Mason cupped his chin and tilted Ian’s head back. “You’ve lived

with fear for so long that it’s going to be hard to just let go. I don’t
want you being afraid of anything between us. Trusting will come
with time, Ian.”

“All I want is for you to be patient with me, Sir. I finally have

what I want and I’m terrified that I’ll either screw this up, or I’ll wake
up and find out it has all been a dream and I’m still back in that club.”
Ian couldn’t believe he was confessing this out loud, but if he was
going to give himself fully to this, to them, Mason needed to know
how he felt. He wanted Mason to know that he was fully invested in
this relationship.

The jaguar ran his thumb over Ian’s bottom lip. “I have all the

patience in the world when it comes to teaching you, Ian. I already

Rise to Submit

193

told you. You’re going to make mistakes. I expect that. But you just
have to remember that I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”

Ian turned his face up toward Mason and stared into Mason’s deep

blue eyes. “I know.”

Mason curled his fingers tighter around Ian’s chin and placed a

kiss on his lips. “We have to go.”

He released Ian’s chin and opened the door. Ian wasn’t sure what

to expect, but he walked out behind Mason. Everyone was gathered
around the Suburban and Bryson’s car. Ian glanced away. He felt like
everyone knew that Mason owned him now. He was at the happiest
point he had ever been in his life with the knowledge, but he wasn’t
sure these men would understand.

Ian stayed behind Mason as his mate walked over to the large

truck.

“Freedman plotted out our course,” Rick said as they approached.

“We’re heading to New Mexico.”

Mason nodded. “We’ll ride with you.”
“Let’s head out, people,” Rick called over his shoulder. Mason

guided Ian to the back door, and Ian crawled into the truck. He
scooted over until he was against the door, Mason climbing in next to
him.

He wasn’t sure what was going to happen now that Mason owned

him, but he had given the man his trust.

Ian just prayed like hell the man didn’t let him down. For the first

time in Ian’s life, he finally felt like he had a connection with
someone. He finally felt like he belonged and Ian would be crushed if
Mason disappointed him.

* * * *

Mason continually checked Ian’s scent, ensuring himself that his

mate was at ease and wasn’t in distress. The contract felt like it was
burning a hole in his pocket, reminding him of what he had done.

194 Lynn

Hagen

He would have taken care of Ian regardless. The man was his

mate. But Ian seemed to need more than just his word. Mason knew
about the D/s lifestyle. He had played a few scenes. But he had never,
not for one second, considered keeping anyone. The thought of a
contract had never entered his mind. Sure, he knew what they were
and what they basically entailed, but he had never been interested in
anyone signing one with him.

But it was the first thing he had thought about with his mate after

Mason decided to step up with his care of Ian.

Mason was going to make sure he learned what every facial

expression was for, what every fidget indicated, and what every little
noise that came from Ian’s lips meant. He knew basic body language,
but each person was different.

Ian was his life now.
Since taking Ian from Nate, this was the first time Mason could

sense total calmness around the smaller man. He seemed content to
just sit next to Mason as they drove toward New Mexico. It was a vast
difference from how he was when Ian first came to them. It was a vast
difference from Ian just yesterday.

Mason glanced forward when Rick pulled the truck off the back

road. They were heading to a gas station. The alpha pulled up to a
pump, cut the motor, and got out.

Dorian turned in the seat. “I have to use the men’s room. Come

with me, Ian.”

Mason felt his mate stiffen next to him. He knew it wasn’t

because he feared his brother, but this was the first time—with
everyone present—that Ian was waiting for Mason to tell him he had
permission, or not. It seemed the small man was taking the contract
and their chosen lifestyle just as seriously as Mason was.

“Go ahead, but don’t take long,” Mason replied.
Dorian’s brows furrowed as he glanced between the two of them.

“He needs your permission to use the bathroom?”

Rise to Submit

195

“He needs my permission for everything that he does, Dorian,”

Mason stated flatly.

“So, what, he’s like your slave or something now?” Dorian

glanced at Ian. “What the hell did you get yourself into now, Ian?”

Mason could scent the explosion of anxiety in the truck, and he

wasn’t about to allow Ian to sit here and be ridiculed for their
decision. “That’s none of your business, Dorian.”

“He’s my brother,” Dorian pointed out heatedly. “He is my

business.”

“Not anymore.”
Dark Peruvian eyes clashed with Mason’s, demanding an

explanation Mason wasn’t going to give. He didn’t have to answer to
Dorian. Rick was not his alpha. Mason’s alpha was funding
experiments on kids, which meant Mason had no alpha. He was his
own person. Just because he was in Rick’s Rebellion group did not
mean he had to bow to the man’s every command. He followed
because not only was Rick a good leader, but Sasha and Freedman
were as well.

There was a large difference between listening to someone who

made sensible choices and obeying someone’s every word.

“Leave it be, Dorian,” Mason warned.
“Why does everyone look at me like an asshole when I go nutty

about Ian? I love him. He’s my baby brother, and I care what happens
to him. I’m not going to sit by and watch him be abused. I already
failed him once. I won’t let that happen again.” Dorian’s tone was
filled with anger, but Mason could see in the man’s eyes that he truly
did love Ian.

“Can’t you see that, Ian?” Dorian asked. “Can’t you see that I’m

only trying to protect you?”

“So am I,” Mason said as he leaned forward. “He is my mate,

Dorian. You are not allowed to interfere.”

Dorian’s eyes narrowed. “Says who?”

196 Lynn

Hagen

“Pack law,” Rick replied as he leaned into the window. “Mason

claimed Ian, gatito.”

“So, you claimed me, but that doesn’t mean I need your

permission to piss.”

Mason could hear the gas pump working as it filled the Suburban,

wishing like hell Dorian would just leave things be. He really wasn’t
trying to fight Rick, but that was going to happen if Dorian didn’t let
up.

“Every relationship is different, Dorian.” Rick cupped Dorian’s

face and smiled at his mate. “What works for us may not work for
Mason and Ian. In claiming his mate, Mason has essentially vowed to
protect him and care for his every need, as I have vowed the same
about you.”

“But I can at least make my own decisions.”
Rick chuckled. “That you can.” His face grew serious. “But not all

are as strong as you.” His eyes flickered to Mason. “Not saying there
is anything wrong with giving someone complete trust to know
what’s best for them.”

Rick knew. Mason could see the knowledge in his light-grey eyes.

He knew Ian wasn’t to be directly addressed. Mason was grateful
someone had a damn clue.

“I’m trying to understand,” Dorian said as he glanced back at Ian.

“I really am. I’d rather struggle with trying to figure your dynamics
out than lose you, but—” Dorian shook his head as he turned back
around in his seat.

Ian glanced up at Mason.
“Do you want to go?” he asked his mate.
Ian nodded.
Mason glanced at Dorian, who had turned back around. He gave

the man a look that said if he fucked with Ian, there would be a price
to pay, even if Dorian was mated to an alpha.

Rise to Submit

197

He watched Ian slip from the truck, but Mason was out the door as

well. He wasn’t going to be far, and he wanted to keep Ian’s scent
within range.

The two walked to the side of the building and then stopped.

Dorian turned toward Ian. Mason couldn’t help but hear. He had
changeling hearing, after all. But he kept his head turned, glancing at
Rick, who was replacing the nozzle and screwing the gas cap back on.

“What’s going on, Ian?” Dorian asked.
“Nothing I haven’t given my full consent to,” Ian replied.
“So you go from one man controlling you to another?”
“You don’t understand, Dorian.”
“I understand that my little brother—”
“That’s the problem, Dorian. You keep looking at me as your little

brother. I’m a grown man. I know I fucked up. You don’t have to
remind me. But Mason is my mate, just like Rick is yours. What I do
inside my relationship is none of your business.”

“Okay,” Dorian sighed. “Just tell me he isn’t beating you. Please

tell me he isn’t. I know you said you don’t like being beaten up,
but…”

“He can’t,” Ian replied with complete confidence, making Mason

smile. “It’s in our contract that he can’t hit me in any way.”

“Contract?”
Oh hell. Mason wasn’t sure if he should interfere or not. He didn’t

give two shits who knew they had a contract between them, but he
knew Ian was vulnerable when it came to his brother.

“Yes. Mason and I have a contract.”
“For what?”
“That’s our business.” Ian blew out a long breath. Mason wanted

to pull the man into his arms, but let Ian have his words with his
brother. Once this was done, Dorian was not going to badger Ian
again. This was it. Mason was giving Dorian this one moment to
question Ian. After that, Ian was no longer the man’s concern.

198 Lynn

Hagen

“Okay, I promise not to say a word about what happens between

you two. But if I think he’s hurting you, or not treating you the way
he should, I’m shooting his ass.”

Rick and Mason locked eyes, and Mason could see the humor in

Rick’s expression. Mason shrugged.

“I need things, Dorian. Things you’ll never understand. All I’m

asking is that you not interfere or judge me.”

“You can’t make me stop caring about you, Ian. That will never

happen. But I promise to try my damnedest not to interfere.”

Mason glanced their way to see Dorian give Ian a hug. It was

quick, the way two men gave each other a hug that still said they were
men, but he could scent the resignation in Dorian.

“Now let’s use the bathroom. I have a feeling we are going to be

stuck in that damn truck for a long while.”

Mason moved across the small lot when both men walked behind

the station. He didn’t want Ian out of his sight. He wouldn’t go into
the bathroom, but knowing no one was around made him feel a hell of
a lot better. These times were dangerous and Mason wasn’t going to
let anything happen to his mate or Dorian. Edward had been attacked
behind a gas station. That thought alone drove Mason to watch over
the two men.

Ian was standing by the closed bathroom door, hands tucked

behind him, leaning back against the wall, staring down at his feet.

Mason stayed by the corner, not saying a word.
Dorian came out and Ian went in.
“I know you heard our conversation,” Dorian said as he walked

over to Mason. “And I meant what I said. If you hurt him in any way,
I swear on my life I will kill you.”

Mason tucked his arms over his chest and stared down at the short

human. “I would expect nothing less from Ian’s older brother.”

“Good.” Dorian began to walk away. “Then we have an

understanding.”

That they did.

Rise to Submit

199

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Is the trap set?” O’Hanlon asked over the phone in a tight, crisp

voice.

Kraven strummed his fingers impatiently on his desk as he

listened to the arrogant bastard. He was getting really sick of the man
and his demands.

“I have assured you that everything is in place. There is no need to

continually contact me.”

“Now listen here, bloodsucker.” O’Hanlon’s calm slipped. “You

haven’t kept your end of the bargain in this war. You were supposed
to go after Enrique if the Death Squad failed.”

“And they are dead,” Kraven stated dryly. He had his own reasons

for keeping Enrique alive, for now. Not only had the alpha killed
Calico, but now Newman was dead. Kraven didn’t give a shit about
those men, but he couldn’t allow their murders to go unpunished. It
would make him look weak.

But O’Hanlon didn’t need to know this.
There was no way Kraven was coming out with his race and

fighting in the war. He honestly didn’t care about the political side of
things, and he didn’t care if the changelings were wiped from the face
of the earth.

Let the two races kill each other. It would only ensure that his

species ruled the nation once the war was over.

If the war was ever over.
But the less humans and changelings around, the better.
“Just make sure the trap is set and all goes as planned or I swear,

Kraven,”—O’Hanlon paused, his voice dropping to a low, even

200 Lynn

Hagen

tone—“I swear I will send in a fleet of tanks and blow your goddamn
club off the face of the map.”

Let him try. If Kraven smelled one single soldier near his club, the

Mãos da Morte

were going to be dispatched. And there was only one

name all twelve of them would have.

Captain O’Hanlon, Naval Special fucking Warfare.

* * * *

Mason sat in the backseat, Ian tucked on his lap fast asleep. He

was glad his mate could finally get some rest without having to worry
about being tortured. It had gutted him to know that he had been
helpless to do anything about Ian when the man was suffering at the
hands of Newman in the dream realm.

It still puzzled him that there was such a place. He wondered what

happened to Cheveyo after he left, but he knew there was nothing he
could do about the guy. The Indian warrior had been dead for over
four hundred years. Mason seriously doubted he had any kind of
power to help the man, but would be eternally grateful to Cheveyo.

Even if it was the most bizarre shit Mason had ever been through.
He glanced up when he saw an out-of-the-way billboard on the

back road. Mason tapped Rick’s shoulder and pointed at it.

Rick chuckled. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“I am,” Mason admitted.
“You know the town could be filled with either Breed Hunters or

mercenaries. Are you willing to risk it?”

Mason glanced down at Ian and knew his mate would be thrilled

beyond words if Mason took the chance and succeeded. “You can
stop a mile before town and I’ll take it from there.”

Freedman turned in the seat and stared at Mason, a twinkle of

merriment in his eyes. “Now you have me curious to see what they
have.”

Rise to Submit

201

“Liar.” Mason smiled at Freedman. “I can scent your curiosity,

but I highly doubt you are interested in what they have. You just want
to be nosey.”

“True.” Freedman chuckled as he sat back.
Mason glanced at Rick in the rearview mirror, giving him a look

he knew Rick would be able to understand.

“He’ll be safe. I give you my word.”
Mason cupped Ian’s face and kissed him out of his sleep. He

wasn’t going to have his mate wake up and wonder where he was.
Mason had promises he had to keep with the man, and he wasn’t
going to let Ian down.

Ian moaned and curled into Mason. The man was still half sleep.
“Wake up, Ian.”
Ian’s eyes fluttered open and then he stilled. He glanced at

everyone looking at him and then up at Mason. A deep blush stole
across his face. “What’s going on?”

“I need to make a run into town. I wanted to let you know I would

be gone for only a short period of time. Rick has agreed to keep an
eye on you.” Mason glanced over at Dorian.

Dorian threw his hands up as he rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to

bug him about anything.”

“Take Bryson and the two enforcers with you,” Rick said. “I don’t

want to take any chances. I still can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. I
must be losing my damn mind.”

“Why are you going into town, Sir?” Ian asked.
“You’ll see,” Mason replied as Rick pulled over into a small rest

area off of the side of the road. Mason eased Ian from his lap and
settled him next to his brother. His mate grabbed the small blanket
from the seat and wrapped it around him. Mason knew Ian would be
fine until he returned.

He just prayed the man didn’t have a seizure or go through

another bout of cravings while he was gone. Both were coming less
and less, and Mason wanted to keep it that way. Ian had a long way to

202 Lynn

Hagen

go to get where Mason wanted him to be, and having either a seizure
or a bout of cravings was not part of Ian’s lessons.

Mason slid from the truck, heading toward Bryson’s car that had

pulled up behind them.

“Grab a case of lube!” Dorian shouted out of the window. When

Mason paused and glanced back, Dorian shrugged. “You’re going
into town, might as well pick up the essentials.”

When Mason shook his head and turned back around, the entire

car was staring at him strangely. Benito had a wide grin on his face.

“Scoot over,” he said to the two enforcers before sliding into the

back.

“What’s up?” Bryson asked.
“We have a run to make,” Mason said as he closed the back door.
“Would it have anything to do with the sign I saw about a quarter

mile back?” Sasha asked.

“Indeed it does,” Mason replied. “But I don’t want to be gone too

long.”

Bryson nodded and pulled away, leaving the Suburban parked on

the side of the road and Mason feeling uneasy about leaving Ian
behind. He knew he would have to make this quick because not only
did Ian need Mason, but Mason was finding that he needed Ian as
well. Furthermore, leaving the man to go do anything was making
Mason nervous. He didn’t want his mate out of his sight, yet he knew
that if he snagged what he needed, their lessons would be filled with
so much more pleasure.

Bryson skirted around town, pulled behind a pizza shop, and

parked the car.

“Benito, Miguel, I want you to scout the area and keep an eye out

while Mason and I make the run,” Sasha said as he climbed out of the
front seat.

Mason’s brow rose as the wereleopard alpha shut the door behind

him. “Are you going with me as backup or are you shopping?”

Rise to Submit

203

Sasha gave him a playful smile, but his kelly-green eyes told

Mason it was none of his damn business.

“Fair enough,” Mason said as they began their trek. Mason was

damn good at not being seen, but working with the leopard showed
him that Sasha was an expert at getting where he needed to go with
ease.

The man was filled with nothing but fluid grace and predatory

swiftness as they made it to the back door of the shop.

“This town seems deserted,” Sasha commented as he tried to ease

the back door open. It was locked, but Sasha gave one good shoulder
bump and the door popped open.

“I didn’t scent anyone,” Mason noted. “But there is a strange

smell here.”

Sasha nodded as he opened the door all the way and slipped

inside. Mason followed. Sasha had the place checked out before
Mason made it fully inside. But then again, the shop wasn’t that big.

The alpha whistled as he looked around. “This is some hardcore

shit.”

That it was. Mason had been hoping when he saw the sign, but

now that he was standing in the middle of the store, he knew the place
exceeded all expectations.

“And here I called myself an educated man.” Sasha lifted up a

hooded mask and studied it.

Mason grinned. “If you ever want to get serious about playing, let

me know. I can give you a few pointers.”

Sasha leaned into the counter and licked his tongue over his

bottom lip, slow, sensual, but Mason knew the act wasn’t for him. He
had a feeling Sasha was just that way. “I can hold my own. Trust me.
I know how to please my bed partner in all kinds of wicked ways.”

Mason chuckled as his eyes raked over the wall with displays of

leash and collar sets. It amazed him that a town this small would have
a store this well stocked. “Yeah, I’ve met Nate. You’re going to have
your hands full.”

204 Lynn

Hagen

Sasha dropped the hood and gave Mason a devilish grin. “Oh, I’m

pretty sure the same thing can be said about me. Don’t forget, there is
a little vixen involved as well.”

“And from what I hear, every time you two get close, Selene tries

to shoot you.”

Sasha played with the ends of his long blond hair and then

shrugged. “Foreplay.”

“If that’s your kink.” Mason glanced at a collar and cuff set that

came with locks and keys, and even a satin blindfold. The collar and
cuffs were locked into place, not buckled.

His imagination began to work overtime on what Ian would look

like in the two-inch-wide leather collar. It would cover Ian’s entire
neck, and the metal loop was attached to a lip, not on the main piece
of the collar. He could just see Ian sitting in his rest position with this
set on, the chain connecting from neck to wrists.

Mason was getting hard standing here imagining…okay, he

needed to get moving.

His fingers ran over the soft leather, smiling to himself as his

fingers touched the shiny chain.

“You are serious about all of this, aren’t you?” Sasha asked as he

glanced at the set Mason was admiring.

“Very.” Mason grabbed the set, and placed it on the counter. He

spotted a large silk over-the-shoulder bag and grabbed it.

Next he grabbed fur-lined cuffs and a lockable hogtie, shoving

them into the bag. He also grabbed a leather leash. By the time Mason
was done, the bag was filled with gags, toys, muzzles, and an
assortment of other goodies.

Mason knew once the war was over and he and Ian were settled

into their home, he was going to have one room dedicated for play,
and he planned on having it well stocked for Ian’s pleasure.

“What are you doing?” Sasha asked.
“Writing out my bill.”

Rise to Submit

205

Sasha chuckled. “No one is here. The town is deserted,” he

pointed out.

“That doesn’t mean I won’t pay what I owe, Sasha. I’m not a

thief. I’ll return in the future to pay my debt. Grab a case of lube.”

Sasha grunted. “There is no way I’m carrying a case of lube with

me through town.”

Mason added the case of lube to his list and then shoved the paper

under the register. “And if you get the chance to fuck Nate, are you
going to pass that by because you have no lube?” Mason headed
toward the back door. They were going to have to fix it so no one else
could get inside.

Sasha growled low as he walked into a room behind the counter

and came back out with a case of lubricant.

Damn, it was the good stuff. Mason liked this store.
“Shut up,” Sasha bitched at him as he walked by Mason and out

the door. Mason grinned.

They took a moment to secure the door and then they were off.

When they made it back to the car, Mason stored the bag in the trunk
and then glanced around. “Where are Benito and Miguel?” Mason
asked Bryson.

“Not back yet,” he said, and Mason could tell the man was

worried. Sasha and Mason went looking for them. Not only was it a
bad thing to linger, but Mason wanted to get back to Ian.

The enforcers’ scents led them to a small clinic one block over.

Mason was getting a really bad feeling about this. He now recognized
the strange smell he had scented back at the store. The closer they
were to Miguel and Benito, the stronger it became until the smell of
rotting flesh was overwhelming.

Mason’s first instinct was to get the hell away from the place as

fast as he could, but he had to find the two enforcers. There was no
way in hell he was leaving the two behind.

206 Lynn

Hagen

Sasha pushed open the glass door, glancing around as he walked

inside. Mason looked around the outside of the clinic and then
followed the leopard.

The smell hit Mason so hard he nearly doubled over. The sound of

flies was all around him as he scanned the waiting area.

“This is not good,” Sasha hissed low. “We need to get out of

here.”

“Not until we find Miguel and Benito.” Mason forced himself to

walk down the hallway until he reached the first room. He found the
two enforcers in the first room, thank fuck.

But he also found half a dozen rotting bodies.
“Holy shit,” Sasha said as he walked into the room. “It’s a fucking

massacre.”

Miguel was standing there with the front of his shirt over his nose

and mouth, his eyes filled with horror.

Benito was bent over the side of the desk, and Mason could smell

vomit mixed in with the stench of death.

“Let’s go,” Sasha said as he grabbed Benito. “Something isn’t

right here, and we don’t need to stick around to find out.”

Mason grabbed Miguel’s arm and pulled. The enforcer nodded.

Mason let him go and Miguel followed as they hurried from the
clinic.

“There was more,” Miguel said as he finally lowered his shirt.

“The back room had twice as many bodies.”

“What in the hell happened in there?” Mason asked as he hurried

toward the car one block over.

Miguel gave him a look that said he would see those bodies in his

nightmares for a very long time. “I checked the first body I came to.
Those were changeling mercenaries. They had the red wristbands. It
looks like they were ambushed.”

“Breed Hunters,” Sasha hissed.
“I agree,” Mason replied.

Rise to Submit

207

“No,” Sasha said as he dropped low behind a small divider wall

that sat between a drugstore and a restaurant.

Mason didn’t see anyone but followed Sasha. The two enforcers

did as well. Just as Miguel dropped out of sight, a truck rolled down
the middle of the street, men sitting in the back with shotguns in their
arms.

The truck pulled in front of the drugstore and the men in the back

jumped out. Mason’s eyes flickered over each man, burning their
faces to memory.

“Get what you need, men,” the driver called out and then glanced

around. “I don’t want to hang around here too long.”

One of the Breed Hunters turned and laughed. “Trust me, those

animals are dead. You still afraid they’re gonna get up and come after
you?”

“Shut up, Roger,” the driver snarled. “Just get moving.”
Mason ducked back down when the driver glanced over toward

him. He pressed his back into the concrete wall, looking at the three
men with him.

He could see Sasha’s green eyes shifting into his leopard eyes.

Shards of yellow began to emerge as the man quickly made one long
braid of his blond strands.

He was gearing up for battle. Mason hoped it didn’t come to that.

There were four of them and at least nine of the Breed Hunters. Not
bad odds, but Mason would rather get back to Ian without incident.

“I hear the military is going to be doing a sweep through here in

the next day or two,” someone said on the other side of the wall.
“Even though we’re sanctioned to kill those animals, I don’t want to
be here when they show up. The last group we ran into was
conducting tests with their BAT machines.”

“Don’t worry, Sammy. No one is going to find out your mom

fucked an animal. We took care of her, and I won’t let them get
anywhere near you,” a second male said.

Mason glanced at Sasha.

208 Lynn

Hagen

“If Scott finds out I’m a half breed, he’ll pull my guts out while

I’m still alive like he did that mercenary,” the first man said, and
Mason could hear the terror in the man’s voice. “I don’t want to die,
Chris.”

“Then when we reach the next town, we’ll take off.”
The voices fell silent.
Mason wasn’t sure what that was all about, and he didn’t care. He

prayed the two died. They had killed only god knows how many
changelings. He had no sympathy for them.

“Hey, Scott!” another unfamiliar voice shouted. “I just got a call

from my uncle in Albuquerque. He says something big is going down.
You want to head that way?”

“Sounds like a plan,” the driver called out. “Let’s get out of here.”
The truck roared to life, and Mason heard them pull out.
“The detention center is close by there in Coyote Canyon,”

Miguel pointed out. “Do you think that something big has anything to
do with the center?”

“Not sure,” Mason answered as he peered over the wall and saw

that they were alone once more. “But we need to get the fuck ghost.”

All four took off, heading back toward the car. They needed to

warn Rick that something was going on, but Mason also needed to get
back to Ian. If those Breed Hunters drove past the Suburban, all hell
was going to break loose.

And Mason was going to make sure he was there for the party.

Rise to Submit

209

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Where are we, Sir?” Ian asked as he slid from the truck and

followed Mason into yet another motel. He wasn’t sure how this
group had done this for almost five months. Ian was getting tired of
motels already, and he hadn’t been with this group that long.

He wasn’t used to moving around so much. Waking up in a

strange place was still very unsettling.

Mason set a silk bag on the bed and then turned to Ian. “We are

close to Coyote Canyon. Right now I want you to take a nice, long,
hot shower and then come lie on the bed when you are finished.”

“Yes, Sir,” Ian replied as he glanced around the room and then

headed toward the bathroom. Mason had been very quiet since he had
come back from that small town. Ian could tell something was
bothering him and wondered what it could be.

He hadn’t done anything wrong that he could think of, but Ian

secretly wondered if Mason was upset with him about something.
Being in a relationship was new to him and Ian was still trying to find
his way around the dynamics. He wasn’t sure if he should ask Mason
or just let it be.

Undressing, Ian regulated the water and then grabbed the small

towel meant for stepping on, lying it on the floor. Once he had his
washcloth, he stepped into the stall. The water felt so damn good as
soon as it hit his body. His injuries had almost healed, and Ian was
grateful he could sit down without being in pain.

He hated pain.
Ian was glad as hell he had remembered to add that into his

contract. There was no way he could withstand any kind of beating

210 Lynn

Hagen

from Mason. Dealing with beatings from the vampires had been hell.
Ian knew if Mason had laid his heavy hand on Ian, he would have
suffered ten times worse.

But Mason wasn’t into hitting and Ian was thankful for that.
Lathering up the cloth, Ian pushed that thought to the back of his

mind. He was safe now. Mason was taking good care of him. Too bad
they weren’t in their own place. Ian would have a better grasp of what
he should do. It would be a more stable environment than all this
moving around—half the time he wasn’t sure what he should do since
everything changed from one day to the next. Maybe Mason could
assign him some small job to keep himself busy. Ian didn’t like
wondering what his task was in this Rebellion group.

He washed down every inch of his body and then scrubbed his

hair clean. It needed to be cut. The strands were touching his
shoulders.

Toweling off, Ian finished in the bathroom and then walked into

the other room and almost froze.

He did as Mason instructed and got onto the bed, lying down. But

his eyes kept wandering over to the pile of items on the dresser.
Mason didn’t say a word. He just stood there and unraveled the mess.
Ian could see highly polished chains and a load of black leather. He
was curious as hell, but kept his lips sealed tight.

Mason turned, and Ian saw his mate carrying a small portion of

the large pile in his hands as he strode over to the bed.

“On your knees.”
Ian pushed to his knees, gazing up at Mason’s blue eyes as a

minute amount of apprehension began to fill him. Mason set the small
pile on the bed. “Did I do something wrong?” It was eating away at
him that Mason was so sullen. Ian wasn’t sure how mates acted with
one another, but he had been kept quiet most of the time he had been
at the club. Silence bothered him.

Rise to Submit

211

“If you’ve done something wrong, Ian, I’ll let you know. I’ve just

had a lot on my mind. There were some things I saw in that small
town that disturbed me.”

Ian nodded, feeling a bit better knowing he wasn’t the cause of

Mason’s quietness.

Mason ran his hand over Ian’s hair in a gentle manner, his blue

eyes softening as he gazed into Ian’s eyes. “I’m collaring you, Ian.
The leather is padded, and won’t hurt, but it will be locked into place
and only I will have the key.”

Ian swallowed hard as he watched Mason lift the black leather. It

was thick but well padded from what he could see. The chains
dangled in the air, and two small cuffs swung loose on each end. Ian
could see the cuffs had locks on them as well.

Once Mason put everything into place, there was no way Ian

would be able to remove them.

And he didn’t want to. This was the most solid commitment he

had ever gotten from anyone. Mason was placing ownership on him
for all to see. His heart was beating erratically. His pulse was
thumping hard. Ian could feel himself trembling as the collar came
around his neck. He closed his eyes briefly, savoring the moment as
Mason’s fingers brushed over Ian’s neck and shoulders.

He watched as Mason grabbed a small padlock and then his

mate’s hand disappeared behind Ian’s back. There was a small snick,
and Ian could no longer stop himself from shaking with nerves.

Mason either didn’t notice or didn’t comment.
“Hold your hands in front of you.”
Ian did as Mason commanded and watched as Mason placed the

cuffs on his wrists one at a time, locking them into place with a small
padlock on each cuff.

He was bound, owned, and drowning in complete euphoria.

Mason gave the chains a tug. “Does it feel comfortable?”

212 Lynn

Hagen

Ian pulled his arms as far apart as he could. The chains gave a

small noise—which was music to his ears—and then he nodded.
“Yes, Sir.”

“Good, because I’m not finished.”
Ian frowned as Mason walked back over to the dresser, picked

another piece of black leather up, and then came back to him. “Spread
your legs apart.”

Ian did as he was told.
Mason began to wind the leather around his waist, down around

each butt cheek, and then up through the apex of his legs, on either
side of his balls, locking the piece of leather into place.

Next he attached a smaller chain to the front of Ian’s collar and

then affixed the other end to a small metal loop close to his pelvis
bone.

“This is to be worn daily.” Mason took one of Ian’s wrists in hand

and then attached the cuff to a loop Ian hadn’t noticed on his hip.
Mason did the other wrist as well. “But binding your hands to your
sides is for other things.” His mate winked at him.

Ian was officially bound by leather and chains. He could see the

deep approval in Mason’s eyes. He knelt there on the bed, his cock
growing stiff, a reaction he wasn’t used to when a dominant male was
in front of him.

“I see you like it as well.”
“I do, Sir.”
Mason was watching Ian closely, his blue eyes glittering, savage,

hot. He leaned forward and licked at Ian’s lips. “I’m going to show
you many hours of pleasure, Ian,” Mason whispered against Ian’s lips.
A rumble of pleasure echoed through Ian’s chest, making him shiver.
Mason leaned back and then walked to the dresser.

Ian’s heart beat hard and fast, bursting through his veins, a

pleasure in and of itself. His cock grew thicker, standing out in
contrast to all the black leather and chains.

Rise to Submit

213

Mason grabbed two large cuffs from the dresser. Ian hadn’t a clue

what they were for. His mate came back to the bed and helped Ian lie
down until his back was pressed into the mattress.

He lay there as Mason slid one cuff over his thigh and then

strapped it into place, and then the other. “These are just for playing.”

Mason lifted one leg, attaching the thigh cuff to Ian’s wrist. He

did the same with the other.

The soft padding felt like heaven on Ian—all of it. Ian’s lashes

lowered as Mason’s eyes became heavy with sexuality, his lips
turning up into a wicked grin.

He stood back, gazing down at Ian.
Ian felt exposed, his most intimate parts on display as his legs

spread out on either side of him and high in the air. Mason stepped
forward and then the tips of his fingers glided over Ian’s erection.

Ian heard the chains clinking as he shivered.
“Tell me, Ian. What part of sex bothers you?”
Images Ian would rather forget swamped his mind, making him

fight not to curl into himself. He couldn’t. He was studiously bound,
not only by Mason’s presence, but by the leather, chains, and locks as
well.

But the images were free to torture him as he thought about Calico

and then Newman. The sadistic way they had taken him, forced him,
and humiliated him, he would rather die than reveal.

“All,” he whispered out in a tortured breath. “I hate every last

aspect of the act.”

“But you like when I suck your cock,” Mason reminded him.
Ian fought not to be taken under by the memories still crashing

through his mind like violent waves. He tried to remember the
pleasure Mason had given him just last night, but the memories were
too many, too bloody, too shameful in their power and wouldn’t let
go.

Ian could feel the tears falling as he struggled to breathe. His chest

became so tight he felt like he couldn’t pull in enough air. The

214 Lynn

Hagen

craving slammed into his gut like a sledgehammer, shattering his
newfound feelings for the restraints resting gently against his skin.

Mason unlocked Ian’s thighs and pulled him up from the bed as

Ian struggled to get free. He yanked at the chains, crying out, wanting
to hurt something for the way he had been hurt, wanting to return the
agonizing pain with deadly accuracy.

“Focus on me, Ian.” Mason’s deep, baritone voice echoed through

Ian’s mind, shattering some of the images trying to pull him under.
But not all of them had fled. More were coming his way as Ian cried
out.

His teeth were grinding together so tightly that his entire jaw was

throbbing in pain, but the craving still had its deadly talons embedded
in Ian’s flesh.

“Ian, open your eyes!”
Ian’s lips parted, his breathing labored as he slowly opened his

eyes. It hurt so badly to look at Mason as his own body betrayed him.
“Please, Mason. I need. Please.” Ian strained his voice on the last
word, feeling as if he were truly dying.

“Yes,” Mason agreed. “You do need, and I’m going to give you

the distraction you need to fight this. We are going to work through
this, Ian.” Ian almost broke under the lash of Mason’s confident
voice, but it wasn’t enough.

Ian didn’t want to work through anything. He wanted to be bitten

and didn’t care. He just did not care. All he wanted was his fix, his
high, and it didn’t matter that he now knew the bite was slowly killing
him. His body still hungered for something that was so deadly for him
that Ian knew, one more bite, just might be the last one.

Ian swayed as Mason brought him to his knees. He felt the gates

of hell opening once more, pulling him in, the dark abyss calling to
him.

“Pleasure,” Mason said close to his ear, “will combat pain.” The

cold blunt edge of something rubbery pushed into his ass, filling him
and making him squirm.

Rise to Submit

215

Ian didn’t understand what Mason was talking about or what he

was doing until his body began to vibrate, really vibrate this time, not
from the pain, but from something Mason was doing to him. Pleasure
he didn’t know he had the capacity to experience washed through him
as he felt the last vestige of claws slowly slip from his skin, from his
mind.

“And this is on the low setting.” Mason’s rough, sexually laced

voice growled into his ear. Ian’s body arched and his thoughts
scattered as the vibrations grew harder, more intense. He was shaking
as Mason held tightly in his hand the chain that led from Ian’s collar
to his pelvic bone, stopping him from falling backward.

“What do you need, Ian?”
Ian’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as his entire lower half

pulsated in pleasure. The vibration slowed by a notch, and Ian was
terrified Mason would stop.

“What do you need, Ian?”
“More, Sir,” Ian cried out. “I need more.”
Ian’s arms slammed outward, but they couldn’t go anywhere

when they were locked at his sides. All he could do was fall forward
into Mason as whatever Mason had put in his ass shuddered harder,
making Ian fuck thin air.

Mason gave a low chuckle. “More?”
Ian wasn’t sure he could handle any more. Mason was feeding a

hunger that had been dormant for so long, until last night, that Ian was
willing to beg, borrow, and steal to prolong the sensations. The man
had woken something up inside Ian.

Last night had been fantastic, but right now, with what Mason was

doing to his body, Ian would—the thing vibrated even harder now,
making it almost impossible for Ian to breathe. “Yellow!”

The sensations lessened, but didn’t go away. Ian didn’t want them

to recede, but Mason was doing too much too soon. His body wasn’t
used to such pleasures and Ian feared he would drown in them if
Mason pushed him too far.

216 Lynn

Hagen

“We can continue this pleasurable torture all night, Ian,” Mason

said as he leaned back, putting some space between them. “Or we can
finish this.”

Ian was panting, his mouth dry as hell as he glanced up at Mason.
“Don’t worry.” Mason’s eyes blazed with a sensuality that

bordered on madness. “I won’t let you go. You won’t fall without me
there to catch you.”

Ian licked his dry lips. “Finish it, Sir.”
One side of Mason’s mouth turned up into a sinful smile as he

lifted his hand. There was some sort of small remote in his palm. Ian
watched as Mason’s finger touched the lever and then slid it all the
way up. The overwhelming sensations were drowning him, killing
him with pleasure, building, increasing. He felt his cock swell, pulse,
and the pleasure didn’t abate.

Ian struggled against his restraints, his mind screaming art, but he

refused to allow the word past his lips. If he could endure what the
vampires had done to him, then Ian sure as hell could endure the raw,
ravenousness feeling splintering him apart.

Mason stepped closer, pulling the chain harder as his eyes locked

with Ian’s. “Stop fighting it, Ian.” It was a command, pure and simple.

Ian panted, his body covered in a film of sweat as Mason reached

behind Ian with the hand holding the remote and wiggled the toy
around in his ass. The plastic device touched Ian’s prostate and the
fight was over.

Ian shouted as his entire body ripped apart with his orgasm. His

body was twitching and jerking, but Mason held on to him. He hadn’t
let Ian go as the sensations became nearly unbearable.

As he lay helpless, exhausted, and so fucking satiated that it was

mind boggling, the device slowly stopped vibrating. Mason reached
behind Ian and wiggled the device, making Ian jerk against the man’s
chest.

“This seems to be a favorite so far. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Rise to Submit

217

A warm, strong hand smoothed down his back, cutting through

Ian’s sweat, and then skimmed across the leather surrounding Ian’s
waist.

Ian couldn’t move. It was Mason who was keeping him from

falling over in a boneless slump. He opened his eyes when he felt
Mason laying him down. He didn’t unlock Ian’s wrists, but he did
gently remove the device from Ian’s ass.

Ian lay there, his mind too tired to even think as he felt Mason

washing his stomach and then between his legs. Ian felt his heart
struggling to keep up. Only this time it wasn’t from being beaten by a
vampire. It was from being given so much pleasure by a jaguar that
Ian was beginning to feel like signing the contract may have been the
wisest move in his life.

218 Lynn

Hagen

Chapter Twenty-Five

Mason stroked Ian’s back as his mate slept. His fingers lingered

over the leather around the man’s waist as he thought about the
withdrawal Ian had gone through.

It still wasn’t as bad as Bryson had predicted—which Mason was

thankful as hell—but any kind of adverse effect he had from the fang
bites didn’t set well with him. It only reminded Mason how far a road
they still had to travel in order to keep the man clean.

Ian wasn’t that far into his recovery.
He thought about when he first took Ian from Selene. Mason had

thought himself in over his head. He thought he didn’t have time for
this sort of complication in his life.

As Ian lay there next to him in the darkness of the motel room,

Mason was glad he had been wrong. Not only was he trying to help
heal Ian, but the small man had no idea how much he was starting to
affect Mason.

He had grown up without the love and affection most changelings

experienced. His household had been cold and sterile, no life, no
love—just an aloof father who worked all the time. They had a pack,
but his father had forbid Mason to interact with them.

He hadn’t known why. Mason was young when his father had

given the command. But now he could see it was his father’s way of
trying to get Mason to deny who he was, what he was. He had been
slowly grooming Mason to be just as cold and sterile as his father
was.

But Ian brought Mason so much warmth, so much…it was hard to

even think of a word that came close to what Mason was feeling. He

Rise to Submit

219

ran his hands through Ian’s long hair, playing with the strands. It was
soft and wavy, feeling like spun silk as it slid through his fingers.

Mason glanced down when he felt something brush against his

hip. Ian’s fingers were twitching in his sleep. He studied the cuffs, the
way Ian’s hands were bound to his sides. After the battle Ian had just
gone through, Mason felt it best to keep him bound.

He couldn’t hurt himself if he couldn’t move.
He’d release the locks that kept Ian’s hands at his sides in the

morning, but for now he lay there appreciating the beauty of seeing
his submissive in Mason’s trappings.

This was better than any scene Mason had ever played in. It was

more intense, more personal, and Ian was his mate. That made the
stakes a hell of a lot higher.

Ian was a mess right now, and Mason planned on helping his mate

get to the point where his self-worth and self-hate weren’t eating at
him.

Mason knew the man was feeling this way. It was still in his

cobalt-blue eyes. Ian was still beating himself up about what he had
done for the past four years.

The man had so much potential, so much worth, but he had to see

it in himself before he would start believing it, start living that way.

A light knock sounded on the door. Mason rolled from the bed,

careful not to wake Ian as he opened the door. Rick stood there, his
eyes going to Ian’s naked form and then to Mason.

“I was told about some big plans going down in Albuquerque.”
Mason nodded. “But we didn’t hear what those big plans were

for.”

Rick glanced over at Ian again. “Do you want to talk outside?”
Mason could scent Rick’s unease. “Does his nakedness bother

you?”

Rick shook his head. “No, I’m changeling. But I’m not sure you

want to disturb him.”

“I don’t want to leave him by himself either.”

220 Lynn

Hagen

Rick nodded. “I’ve asked the others what they want to do. So I’m

asking you. Do you want to press on to the detention center?”

Mason leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his

chest. “What did the others say?”

“Nope, I want your unbiased opinion.”
Mason weighed the options in his mind. “I can’t leave changelings

to suffer. I think we should still try to free as many as we can.”

A grin formed on Rick’s face. “That’s what everyone else said.”

His smile faltered. “But you know the risks.”

“I do. But what if it was Ian or Dorian in there? People out there

are going nuts because their loved ones have been taken. I can’t just
sit back when I know there is something I can do about it.”

Mason would kill every single person in the place if it were Ian

who was taken. He knew the changelings were being tortured, and his
mate had been through enough already.

“I have Rebellion groups on their way. We won’t be going in

alone. We plan to attack in two days. That’ll give everyone enough
time to get here and a plan to be hatched.”

“Let me know when they get here.”
“Just forewarning you, Nate and Selene are on their way.”
Mason sighed in resignation, knowing Nate was nothing but a big

pain in his ass. “Hopefully Sasha keeps them occupied.”

Rick chuckled as he scratched at his jaw. “Nate isn’t that bad and

one hell of a man to have at your side in a fight.”

“It isn’t the fighting that bothers me. It’s his smart-ass mouth.”
Rick laughed even louder. “He does have a winning personality.”
“Just let me know when you need me.”
Rick nodded, a wide grin still on his face as he walked away.

Mason closed the door. He ignored the news about the irritating
bastard and thought about the rescue. He knew the risks. It was
probably a setup. As far as anyone knew, there were only two
detention centers left. They had freed the changelings from the main

Rise to Submit

221

detention center in Ohio. No rumors had been circulating about new
ones being built.

Mason knew why. They had gathered enough test subjects. They

were just outright killing everyone else they caught.

“Sir?”
Mason turned and walked back to the bed. He sat on the edge and

caressed his knuckles down Ian’s face. “I’m right here.” It was pitch
black in the room, but Mason could see just fine.

Ian couldn’t.
“How do you feel?”
He could feel Ian’s face heating under his knuckles.
“Good.”
Mason smiled. “Sore?” He reached down and ran his hand

through the crease between Ian’s ass cheeks, lingering around the
small, puckered hole. He heard a quick intake of breath.

“No, Sir.”
Mason hadn’t planned on doing anything else with Ian tonight, but

as his fingers continued to play, the scent of arousal filled the room
and set Mason’s body to pulsating. There was no way he was going to
deny his mate when Ian looked so damn good spread out on the bed.

“Spread your legs.”
Ian spread his legs and Mason reached over, locking the thigh

cuffs to the waistband of the leather restraint around Ian’s waist. Ian’s
legs were now spread for him to indulge.

His mate didn’t say a word as Mason went back to playing at his

hole, but the scent of arousal didn’t dissipate either. If anything, it was
growing stronger, telling Mason that Ian was okay with what he was
doing. Ian may want Mason to dominate over every aspect of his life,
but that also meant Ian’s health and happiness came first. If at any
time his mate’s scent turned to fear, Mason knew he would stop. It
may kill him to pull away from such an entrancing sight, but he
wasn’t going to do anything to cause Ian further mental harm.

222 Lynn

Hagen

Skimming his hands over Ian’s smooth thighs, Mason’s cock

began to thicken. He was so hard his dick rubbed painfully against the
teeth of his zipper.

Mason wanted to show his mate so much pleasure and

gratification. Ian had only a few short moments of those desires while
in Mason’s care, but Mason planned on changing that.

Reaching down into his personal bag, Mason grabbed the lube and

set it aside. He wasn’t going to rush their first time together. Mason
wanted Ian to feel every touch, every nuance of desire Mason held for
the smaller man.

“Rest position in the middle of the room.” Mason unlocked Ian’s

hands from his side and stepped back, giving room for Ian to slide
from the bed and do as Mason ordered.

His mate dropped to his knees, spine straight, head down, knees

splayed wide. Lastly, Ian placed the palms of his hands on his thighs.
Mason stood there, taking in the image Ian presented, naked and in
leather.

A surge of need lashed through Mason as he moved toward Ian.

“Even though we are not in our own home, we are going to begin
your lessons.” Mason ran his hands over Ian’s head, giving his mate
reassurance, but giving himself the contact Mason needed as well. He
had grown up without touch, and whether Ian knew it or not, Mason
needed it just as much as Ian did.

Ian didn’t move an inch, but Mason could feel the contentment

settle inside his mate as Mason’s fingers continued to run through the
man’s long brown hair.

“Tonight you will receive lessons in self-worth, understanding,

boundaries, and what a mate means.” Mason moved until he was
standing in front of Ian. “Look at me.”

Ian lifted his head, his eyes opening to show Mason his pretty

brown irises. “I know this is a lot to take in.” Mason cupped Ian’s
jaw, tilting the man’s head back. “These lessons are for your own
good and will help you in your healing process.”

Rise to Submit

223

“What am I learning tonight, Sir?”
His mate still hadn't moved, but Mason could feel the tension

building inside the man.

Tonight,” Mason began as he walked over to the black silk bag

and pulled out satin strings and then walked back over to Ian, “you
are going to learn about self-worth and understanding.”

Mason reached down and released his cock. His erection sprang

free, the head an angry purple as pre-cum glistened around the tiny
slit. “You need to see that you are attractive to someone other than a
vampire, that you are more than a blood rag. Look what you do to me,
Ian.” Mason stood over the top of Ian and stroked his cock from tip to
root. “Look how hard you make me. Just watching you and seeing
you restrained, bound for my pleasure, makes me harder than a rock.”

Ian’s chest began to rise and fall rapidly as his eyes focused on

Mason’s hard erection. “I–I see, Sir.”

“You also need to understand your needs and not be ashamed of

them.” Mason traced the satin strings over Ian’s shoulders. He let
them trail over Ian’s back and around his neck. “You may see, but I
want you to taste.”

Mason stroked his cock a few more times, giving Ian a small show

and waiting on the man to open wide. Ian looked hesitant, his brown
eyes gazing over Mason’s shaft, and then his lips slowly parted.

“God, you are so beautiful when my dick is between your lips. No

one can hold a candle to you, Ian.” Using his hand to push Ian’s hair
back, Mason watched his mate as Ian moved his head up and down
the hard length of his cock. He ran his fingers over the hollowed
cheeks, and swollen lips, amazed at how utterly erotic Ian looked.

Mason should have been surprised at his need for Ian, a need so

deep that it was overpowering. He knew the bond between them was
growing, but Mason had no idea it would grow this fast.

“You are so beautiful, Ian,” Mason said, panting, fighting to keep

his sanity. When Ian lifted his eyes and stared at him in a daze, Mason
was uncertain what to think or even how to think.

224 Lynn

Hagen

Ian sucked Mason’s cock deeper into his mouth, his tongue laving

at the sensitive head. Mason gritted his teeth, fighting for control. It
wasn’t easy. He was being honest when he told Ian he was beautiful
sucking Mason’s cock.

The man was simply stunning.
Mason pressed his hand on Ian’s head, easing his throbbing cock

from his mate’s mouth. “Get on the bed, Ian. I want you on your
hands and knees,” Mason ordered Ian, his voice dark, rough. If Ian
kept sucking Mason’s dick, he was going to explode in the man’s
mouth. That wasn’t what he had planned.

Ian pushed to a standing position, his lips swollen and sensual as

he turned, walking over to the bed. Mason’s cock pulsed when Ian
climbed onto the bed, his ass in the air, his puckered hole on display.

Holy fuck. How was he supposed to give his submissive lessons

when the man was driving Mason to the edge? He took a moment to
calm his racing heart. He licked his extremely dry lips, still standing
in place.

“Tell me, Ian. Why do you think you are nothing special, nothing

spectacular?”

Ian’s scent changed. It had gone from strong and spicy to rancid

with fear.

“Answer me, Ian.”
“Because I’m a junkie, Sir,” Ian said blandly.
Mason’s body was back under control so he walked over to the

bed, placing his hand on Ian’s back. “You think you are worthless
because you crave drugs?”

Ian hesitated, and then answered, “Yes, Sir.”
“So, everyone around you who doesn’t crave drugs is someone

special, someone spectacular?”

Mason could scent Ian’s confusion. “No,” Ian answered slowly.
“You,” Mason stopped and took in a deep breath, “are someone

spectacular, someone special…to me.” He gripped Ian’s leather waist

Rise to Submit

225

harness, giving it a tug. “You are my mate, Ian. Do you know what
that means?”

“That I belong to you, Sir?”
“Turn around, Ian.”
Ian turned, his eyes meeting Mason’s, and Mason could see the

lost, haunted look in the man’s eyes. “You are my mate. That means
everything to me. You mean everything to me. Yes, you were a junkie
and will always be a recovering addict, but that isn't who you are.
That is what you did. Who are you, Ian?”

Ian looked confused. “Human?”
Mason chuckled. “Yes, but what else?”
Ian shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Mason pulled Ian up until his mate was against his chest. He

gripped Ian’s chin between his fingers, giving the man’s jaw a light
tug. “Repeat after me. I am a man with immeasurable self-worth. I
used drugs, but that is not what defines me. My strength, my
character, and what I do with my life from this day forward is what
people will judge me by.”

Ian looked unsure, and then repeated Mason. As the man spoke,

Mason could see a small light flickering in the man’s eyes.

“I want you to repeat that to yourself ten times a day, Ian. I don’t

want you to just say the words either. I want you to believe them.”
Mason released Ian. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Sir.”
“Do you believe those words?” because if Ian didn’t, repeating

what Mason had said would be useless.

Ian’s jaw hardened as he glanced up at Mason and gave a firm

nod.

“Good,” Mason said. “Now get back on your hands and knees so I

can show you just what you do to me.”

A small smile played at Ian’s lips as he spun around and jutted his

ass into the air.

226 Lynn

Hagen

Mason ran his hands over the silken skin. “Who do you belong to,

Ian?” A growl rose up in Mason’s throat as arousal caught him in a
vicarious grip and shook him.

“You, Sir,”
“And what are you to me?”
“Your mate, Sir.”
“My very handsome and sexy mate, Ian.” Mason once again

began to trail the silk strands over Ian’s body, watching as his mate
moaned with pleasure. The man remembered to be vocal. Mason
smiled in approval.

“What are your needs, Ian?” Mason ran the silk over Ian’s

shoulders, letting the ends trace the man’s spine.

“I–I don’t know, Sir.”
Mason set the strands aside and gripped Ian’s hips, pulling the

man back until Ian’s naked ass was flush with Mason’s jean-covered
groin. “What do you desire most?”

Mason could feel Ian trembling beneath his hands. “You, Sir. I

desire you most.”

Skimming his hands over Ian’s nicely displayed ass, Mason

smiled. “Although that does my ego good, I want to know what you
want, what you need.”

“F–F–Fuck me, Sir.” Ian’s voice was wobbly and desperate. He

knew it took a lot for Ian to ask. The man hadn't had the best
experiences with sex, until recently. He hoped Ian was putting his
trust in Mason rather than telling him what he thought Mason wanted
to hear.

Ian’s scent was once again spicy, although Mason could smell the

underlying tension. Very slowly, Mason ran the tip of his fingers over
Ian’s tight hole. “You want my cock here, Ian?” And then Mason
slipped the tip of one lone finger into Ian’s asshole.

Ian’s arousal shot through the roof, making Mason’s heart squeeze

with need.

“Yes,” Ian hissed, dropping his head, his back bowing.

Rise to Submit

227

Mason pressed the finger further into Ian’s ass, moving the digit

around until he felt Ian’s prostate. He grazed his finger over the gland,
watching as Ian jerked and writhed, melting right into the bed.

“Who are you, Ian?”
“I–I can’t think, Sir.”
Mason grinned. “Take your time.”
Ian panted heavily. “Your mate.”
“And what else?”
Ian moaned, pushing his ass back on Mason’s finger. Mason

pulled the digit partway out. “I didn’t say you could take what you
wanted, Ian.”

“Sorry, Sir,” Ian quickly replied.
“Who are you, Ian?”
Ian caught on quick. “I am a man of immeasurable self-worth.”
Mason plunged the finger back into Ian’s ass. “Very good.”
Ian mewled, his back bowing higher.
Mason slid a second finger into Ian’s ass. “And?”
Ian’s head shook back and forth, gasping for air as he lifted his

head off of the bed. “I used drugs, but that is not what defines me.”

Mason grabbed the lube, squeezing the tube and watching as the

clear gel leaked onto Ian’s ass. Pulling his fingers back, Mason made
sure his fingers were slick before spearing three into Ian’s ass. “What
defines you, Ian?”

“My strength, my character, and what I do with my life from this

day forward is what people will judge me by.”

Mason pulled his fingers free and then lubed his straining cock.

He tossed the bottle aside and then spread his hands over Ian’s ass. He
let his fingers play with the leather as Ian lay there quivering. Mason
knew the man was desperate to get fucked. That was what he wanted.
Mason wanted Ian damn near over the edge. His mate hadn't liked
sex, but Mason was doing everything in his power to change the
man’s point of view on the subject.

228 Lynn

Hagen

And it was working from the way his mate was shaking apart.

Mason wanted to know every place that set Ian squirming, his hips
bucking, and his mouth gasping. He loved Ian’s breathless moans, and
the way that the man was so responsive to his touch.

Mason’s body was so hard, so hot against Ian’s, it nearly scorched

him. “Are you mine?” Mason asked Ian, his mate’s muscles clenching
on the few scant inches of hard flesh flexing inside his ass.

“Yes!”
“Mine to feed. Mine to fuck. Mine to play with and protect. Say

it,” he snarled, his hips pulling back, and then easing his erection
inside Ian again, no further than it had been before.

“Yours, yours, yours!” Ian shouted.
“We are going to have to work on your control, Ian,” Mason said

right before he slid his painfully hard cock all the way inside Ian’s
heated channel.

Mason took his time, his hands and mouth mapping Ian’s body

leisurely, and imprinting it in his mind as he curled his hips and thrust
into his mate’s tight ass. Mason swirled his tongue, drawing patterns
along Ian’s sensitive skin.

Ian sounded like he was on the edge of his control.
Mason rocked forward and back, deep in Ian’s body. He was

overwhelmed by the heated tightness surrounding his hard shaft and
the sound of pure ecstasy in Ian’s cries. He slowly kissed a trail down
Ian’s nape and past his shoulder. “Who are you, Ian,” he murmured,
losing himself in the sweet exploration of Ian’s body.

“I am a man of immeasurable self-worth.”
Mason’s heart went wild, and blood rushed hot through his veins.

“Yes, you are.” Mason gave his mate deep, driving thrusts that had
Ian screaming, begging for release. Mason felt his cock swell, pulse at
Ian’s shouts.

Gripping his mate’s hips, Mason rammed his cock harder and

harder into Ian, rocking the bed with the force. Ian’s hips began to

Rise to Submit

229

twist, and then his silky channel squeezed Mason’s cock hard, telling
Mason Ian was finding his release.

Mason licked at Ian’s neck, but didn’t sink his teeth in. He wanted

to. Oh, how he wanted to, but not unless Ian said yes. He damn near
lost control, but reined in his need as his cock tingled, aching for
release, and his balls drew up tight.

Mason was frozen in time and space as he found his pleasure and

felt his body emptying as endless spurts of cum filled Ian’s ass.

Rocking slowly, Mason blew out a long breath, bringing his body

and mind back under control. Ian’s back was rising and falling
rapidly, telling Mason that his mate was trying to gain a measure of
control himself.

Gently pulling his softening cock from his mate’s ass, Mason

stood and then walked to the bathroom, wetting a towel. He came
back into the room to find Ian fast asleep. Mason stood there for a
moment, drinking in the man who meant the world to him and then
cleaned Ian.

Mason tossed the towel toward the bathroom and then curled his

body around Ian’s, laying a light kiss on the man’s shoulder. “Soon
we’ll have lesson two.”

He grinned at the images of what lesson two would entail.

230 Lynn

Hagen

Chapter Twenty-Six

Freedman grabbed his phone off of the dresser when it began to

vibrate across the wood. He didn’t recognize the number, so he was
cautious when he answered it. Not too many people had this number,
only a select few.

“Yeah?” he answered and then waited.
“We met in boot camp and you tried to kill me the first week

when you accidently let your gun discharge.”

Freedman froze. “Henderson.”
There was long pause, and Freedman wanted to say so much.

Henderson was his best friend. Strangely enough, after the gun
incident, they had become inseparable. It killed him to know he had
failed the man. It was Freedman who had sent Henderson to Rick,
taking a risk that had blown up in his face and lost him the best man
he had ever had the honor of knowing.

“The detention center is a setup. Loki is working for the

mercenaries. He plans on coming to help. Kill him because fighting
him is impossible.”

Freedman clenched his teeth. “I’m coming to get you. Just

because you have been converted doesn’t mean you have to stay with
them. You can fight alongside me, just like the old days.”

“It’s too late for me, John. There is no going back, not now, not

ever. I probably won’t live out the night. Loki knows I found out
about his plans. I just…I just wanted to warn you, to give you a
fighting chance.”

Rise to Submit

231

“Nicholas!” Freedman shouted when the line went dead. He threw

his phone, feeling raw rage fill him. There was no way he was going
to sit by and let his best friend be killed.

Not again. He had lost Henderson once. Grabbing his bag from

the floor, Freedman made his way out of his motel room. Omar was
standing outside, gazing off into the woods.

“Something out there?” Freedman asked.
Omar turned and looked at him and once again Freedman could

feel the air leaving his lungs. The man was nothing short of
breathtaking. His light-blue eyes studied Freedman, and then he shook
his head. “No, just thinking.” He glanced at Freedman’s bag. “Where
are you going?”

“To help a friend stay alive.” He knew he would have to find a

vehicle to use. The Rebellion group only had two, and they needed
them. Albuquerque wasn’t too far away. Freedman could find a
vehicle there.

“Can I go with you?” Omar asked when Freedman walked to

Rick’s door to let the alpha know he was leaving. It wasn’t Omar’s
question that threw him off. It was his tone of voice. The man
sounded dejected.

Freedman studied him for a long moment. For a second, the mist

fell from Omar’s eyes and Freedman saw the real man. It wasn’t a
pretty sight. Omar looked like he had no one in this world. “I can’t
guarantee your safety.”

“Neither can Rick. But I’d like to get away from this for a while.”
Freedman hitched his bag higher onto his shoulder. “I’m not going

on vacation. There is no rest where I’m going.”

Omar slipped his hand into his front pocket and met Freedman’s

gaze. “Just say you don’t want me to go. You don’t have to keep
throwing excuses at me.”

“It isn’t that,” Freedman said, puzzled by Omar’s behavior. “I just

want you to know what you are facing.”

Omar nodded solemnly. “And you’ve warned me.”

232 Lynn

Hagen

Freedman felt himself nod faintly in return, but inside he was

unsure what to think. “Get your bag. We’ll be walking to the next
town.”

Omar was gone before Freedman had a chance to turn and knock.

What a very bizarre conversation.

After explaining to Rick about Henderson, Freedman waited until

Omar was by his side, bag secured to his back, before he set off to go
save his best friend.

* * * *

Ian glanced up when someone knocked on their door. Mason was

sitting at the table reading over the local paper. Ian was on his knees
at Mason’s feet, his wrists locked at his sides, his ankles locked
together with ankle cuffs, and a ball gag in his mouth.

“Come in.”
The door opened and Ian could see Dorian pause. His eyes

flickered over Ian, his brows furrowed. “Should I come back?”

Mason glanced down at Ian and then shook his head. “No. Was

there something you needed?”

Dorian looked uncomfortable as hell as he glanced down at Ian

again. “Okay, I can’t take it anymore. Why is he like that?”

Mason set his paper down, eyeing Dorian. “Are you asking

because you are curious, or are you asking to start trouble?”

Dorian rolled his eyes. “I’m curious as hell. I won’t say seeing Ian

like that isn’t a little disturbing, but I promised him I would try and
understand.”

Mason reached over and ran his fingers over Ian’s hair, playing

with the long ends. “He needed extra guidance this morning. We are
also working on boundaries today. He needs to not only learn them
for himself, but for others as well.”

Rise to Submit

233

Dorian took a seat across from Mason, which surprised Ian. The

man didn’t look as flustered as Ian thought he would. “So why didn’t
you just talk to him?”

“Because talking to Ian doesn’t always work. Sometimes he needs

that added security. Binding and gagging him seems to ground him.”

Dorian’s eyes cut over to Ian. “Does it hurt?”
“No,” Mason answered for Ian. “And for future reference, you are

to address me, not Ian. I’ll let him know when he can speak.”

Dorian scratched his chin. “I have to say, this is the strangest thing

I have ever seen.”

“Only because you don’t understand your brother’s needs,”

Mason answered calmly.

“No,” Dorian replied. “I don’t. I never saw a need in him before,

when we were at home.” Dorian glanced over at Ian, but looked back
at Mason. “Did he always have this need and just never showed it?”

Releasing Ian’s hair, Mason turned fully toward Dorian. “Tell me

what he was like in his late teen years.”

Ian could tell Dorian was giving it careful thought. When Dorian

had told Ian he would try to understand, Ian had thought the man
wasn’t serious, but from the look on his face, he could tell Dorian was
truly trying to grasp the concept.

“He was moody, kept to himself a lot, and stopped coming around

me so much,” Dorian finally answered. “I thought he was a just going
through normal teen shit.”

If his brother only knew even half the truth. Ian lowered his head,

feeling the shame wash over him once more at what he had allowed
himself to go through.

“Raise your head, Ian,” Mason commanded. “Shame is not

something I’m going to allow you to feel right now. Everyone makes
mistakes. The important thing is that you are trying to clean yourself
up. You have absolutely nothing to feel ashamed of. Remember our
lesson from last night and recite it in your head.”

234 Lynn

Hagen

Dorian stood and then dropped down next to Ian. “I’m sorry

Mason, but this I have to say to Ian.” Dorian turned back around. “I’m
not trying to make you feel ashamed, Ian. I told you before that I love
you. I’ll always love you. You made mistakes. But you are back with
us now.”

Ian could feel the tears falling down his cheeks as he pulled away

from Dorian. He couldn’t take it. This was just too much for him right
now. The guilt was so fierce that it felt alive, breaking through his
body like a living entity trying to get free and take over. Not even
Mason’s lessons were helping at the moment. Ian knew it would take
time, but hearing Dorian talk about shame made Ian feel dirty all over
again.

“Get out,” Mason growled at Dorian. “I told you he is not to be

directly addressed!”

“But he’s my brother!”
Ian curled inside of himself, his back remembering every lash,

every cut, his body echoing every cruel thing the vampires had ever
done to him. He wanted to peel his skin from his body, to feel clean,
but most of all, Ian wanted to forget.

“And he isn’t ready to face his guilt with his family. I’m asking

you to leave him alone until I say he is ready, Dorian. Go.”

Ian saw Dorian step toward the door. “I’m so sorry, Ian. I didn’t

mean to bring you any pain.” He turned and left.

Mason bent down by Ian, pulling him from the floor and carrying

him over to the bed. He removed the ball gag and tossed it aside.

“There is a fine line that divides pleasure and pain,” Mason said as

he unlocked Ian’s ankle cuffs. “You know what pain is, Ian. Don’t
you?”

“Y–Yes, Sir.” Ian couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen. He

couldn’t seem to settle the hard shudder of his pounding heart.

“And you are learning what pleasure is,” Mason said as he ran his

fingers over Ian’s jaw.

“Yes.”

Rise to Submit

235

Mason reached over and pressed the iPod he had set by the bed

earlier. Jazz began to fill the room, making Ian remember the first
time they met, how scared he was, and how Mason’s strong presence
terrified him, yet comforted him at the same time.

“I want you to start meditating, Ian.” Mason reached over and

placed his fingers on Ian’s eyelids, closing them. “I am a man with
immeasurable self-worth. I used drugs, but that is not what defines
me. My strength, my character, and what I do with my life from this
day forward is what people will judge me by.”

Ian took in a deep breath, letting the music fill his mind and then

flow through him. As he sat there on the bed, Ian opened a small door
in his mind.

The memory was of him at home, before it all began, before his

addiction. He used those happy memories of his parents and brother
as his focal point as he opened another door.

This one was the memory where his entire life changed. It was the

night he had allowed Calico to woo him. That night Ian had been
enthralled, not by the vampire’s eyes, but his strength. Ian had
thought Calico the epitome of what he was looking for.

And that was why he had let the vampire feed from him.
Because he had been desperate, looking for something he had

been longing for since Ian had recognized his own sexuality.

The guilt of what he had done tried to take hold, but Ian reached

for the feeling of his parents, his brother, how much they had loved
him, how much love they had shown him, and wrapped that feeling
around him.

I am a man with immeasurable self-worth. I used drugs, but that is

not what defines me. My strength, my character, and what I do with
my life from this day forward is what people will judge me by.

It worked to an extent, but shame was still ever present.
“It will take time, Ian.”
Ian remembered that Mason could scent his emotions. His shame

must be a heavy fragrance on the air.

236 Lynn

Hagen

“But you will learn that you are the only judge and jury of your

conscience. You are the one who has to forgive yourself.”

“It’s hard,” Ian admitted without opening his eyes. “If I hadn’t

said yes, or if I hadn’t gone to that party…”

“But you did,” Mason said from close by. “You made a mistake.

Now it’s time you forgive yourself.”

Ian felt the hot tears rolling down his cheeks. He wanted to shout

that he could never forgive himself for such a stupid choice, but he
could feel Mason’s presence, feel his strength surrounding him. The
man had said they had a bond, and it was growing deeper.

Ian felt it. It was like a warm blanket on a cold winter night,

keeping him warm, keeping him safe.

I am a man of immeasurable worth.
“Say the words, Ian, but only if you mean them.”
Ian swallowed past the lump in his throat. It was hard to speak,

hard to talk when the lodged tears felt so heavy. “I–I forgive myself.”

“Do you?”
Ian felt a piece of himself being put back into the big gaping hole

in his heart. He felt as if a part of him was being restored. “Yes.”

The music continued to flood the room, keeping Ian relaxed as he

thought about that crucial night. He took in a deep breath and let it out
slowly, letting the pain and guilt go.

He wasn’t anywhere near where he needed to be in order to be

happy. But letting the shame go of how it all began was a start.

Rise to Submit

237

Chapter Twenty-Seven

They were heading out in the morning. Groups of Rebellions had

amassed and were hiding out close by in various locations. Rick had
delivered the news to Mason.

First light, they attacked.
Freedman’s men had shown up, Jordison and Corrigan, but

Freedman was still gone. He was still out there somewhere hunting
down his friend in hopes of saving his life.

Mason sat at the table, wondering what tomorrow would bring as

he watched Ian sleep. They could very well be heading into a trap
where some wouldn’t make it back alive. Mason knew this, but he
also held true to what he had said to Rick. There was no way he was
sitting by and allowing any changeling to be tortured or experimented
on.

Not when he could do something to stop it. He just wished he

knew if they were going into a bloodbath.

Maybe it was better that he didn’t know.
Mason gazed at his mate in the dark hours before the battle that

was sure to be bloody and leave a lasting scar on many souls.

His mate had meditated for the rest of the afternoon. Mason had

left him alone after talking Ian through the immense guilt he had felt
coming from the man in waves of sorrow.

He wasn’t foolish enough to believe the healing would be done

overnight. Ian had a long way to go. Four years of abuse could not be
undone in one single session.

238 Lynn

Hagen

As he sat there, Mason thought about his father, his past. He was

never abused, but love wasn’t something he had a lot of experience
with.

His father had been as cold as the arctic air. The man knew

nothing of what a child needed, craved. There were some nights
Mason had lain in bed, wishing his mother were still alive to hold
him, comfort him.

But now he was a grown man, helping a man who was even more

broken than Mason. Never would he tell Ian that there were times he
felt just as lost as his mate. Ian needed someone strong, someone to
help him heal.

But who was going to help Mason heal? It was true that Ian gave

him something precious, his trust, but Mason still felt—god, why was
he even entertaining these thoughts? He shouldn’t pity himself right
before a battle. He should be mentally preparing himself for the fight.

There was only room for one screwed-up individual in this

relationship, and it wasn’t going to be Mason. He’d dealt with his
problems for too many years to question anything that he did now.

To hell with it.
Tomorrow he fought, afterward, if he had survived, he would—

Mason ran his hands over his face, frustrated as hell. Here he thought
getting away from his father and attending college would make his
life easier. But fate had other plans.

He just wished the bitch would have let him know about them.
Feeling weary, Mason stood. That was enough thinking for one

night. What he needed right now was Ian, his mate.

Undressing, Mason crawled into bed and pulled the small human

into his arms, curling his body around Ian’s, soaking in his warmth.
He held tight to the one man who had come to mean so much to him.
Mason may have not gone through what Ian had experienced, but on a
deeper level, they were kindred souls, both searching for…something.

He wanted to be loved just as desperately as Ian. Mason wanted to

know he belonged just as much as his mate did.

Rise to Submit

239

Ian’s eyes fluttered open, and the dark-blue irises seemed to hold

an intelligence that could see right into his very soul.

“I’m here for you,” Ian softly said.
Mason felt cut off at the knees. Ian was slowly pulling the bricks

down from around his defenses and working his way in. Bending his
head, Mason flicked his tongue and tasted his mate just above the
ragged pulse in his neck.

His small fingernails dug into Mason’s chest as Ian tilted his head

to the side, giving off a small moan. For changelings, it was the purest
sign of trust to expose one’s neck.

“I love those moans. I love when you let me know what I’m doing

to you.” Mason paused and then completely opened his heart to his
mate. “But most of all, I love you, Ian.”

Ian swallowed, chest heaving. “Is this a dream?” he whispered,

the fear clear in his small voice.

“No, Ian. This is very real, and tonight, I’m going to show you

just how much I truly do love you.” Mason reached up and ran his
hand through Ian’s hair. “Never cut your hair. I love how the long
strands feel gliding through my fingers.”

Mason settled on his back and then pulled Ian over his chest,

gliding his hand from Ian’s nape, down the expanse of his back, and
then over the sweet curves of his flared bottom.

Ian’s pupils dilated as he arched his back into Mason’s touch like

a lazy cat being petted.

Mason purred.
Ian glanced down at him. “Do that again, Sir.”
The rumble became louder. Ian blew out a shuddering breath.

“I’ve never heard anything like that before. Is it because you are a
changeling?”

“It is. My cat is pleased by your approval.”
Ian’s eyes locked with his, his hands flat against Mason’s chest.

“You like my approval?”

240 Lynn

Hagen

Mason’s fingers began to play at Ian’s cheeks, pulling them apart,

and then circling the small hole that was pulsing. “Everyone wants
approval, Ian. It’s in our nature to want someone to want us, to be
loved and accepted.”

“Even you, Sir?” Ian asked in surprise.
“Even me.”
“But you are this…this man who seems to be in control all the

time, like nothing ever bothers you.”

Mason knew he couldn’t keep up his façade. Ian needed a strong

man, but he also needed to see that even the strongest were weak at
times. His mate needed to realize that everyone was vulnerable to a
point. If he could see this, then maybe it would help in his healing. “I
grew up in a house where there was no love. My father was as cold as
the winds that blow in deep winter. I crave for someone to love me, to
make me feel like I matter.”

“But you do matter,” Ian said softly, “to me.”
Mason cupped Ian’s face and brought it down to his, giving Ian a

heartfelt kiss. He could feel the possessiveness take hold, his jaguar
yowling at the thought of anyone ever trying to take Ian from him.
This man was his mate. His. His to have, his to love, his to guide
through his nightmares and help him come out on the other side a
healed man. Not even Ian’s brother was going to stand between them.

One lone finger sunk into Ian’s body as Mason continued to stoke

the fires between them, kissing Ian deeper, using his tongue to sweep
into his mate’s wet, moist mouth. Ian ground his erection against
Mason’s stomach, moaning and groaning into Mason’s mouth. He
would kill anyone who took those sweet, sweet noises from him.

They were for him, his ears only, for his very own pleasure.
Without breaking the kiss, Mason reached over and snagged the

lube from the nightstand, dribbling the silken gel over his mate’s
entrance. Tossing the bottle aside, Mason slid a second finger in,
playing, stretching, and just enjoying the feel of his mate’s body.

Rise to Submit

241

God, Mason wanted to bite down on Ian’s flesh, to strengthen

their bond so badly that his teeth actually hurt. He cupped the back of
Ian’s head with his free hand, bring the man closer, inhaling the
intoxicating scent of wildness in the man.

The jaguar spread inside of him in a languorous wave of sexual

need. Mason’s cock was ramrod hard, ready to take his mate, but he
pushed the urges back, taking his time with the man he loved, needed,
craved.

He wanted to touch, to stroke, to let Ian know he was the most

cherished man in Mason’s life. His hand smoothed through Ian’s hair,
giving a light, playful tug at the strands.

Another moan.
As Mason’s fingers played inside Ian, he used his hand to press

Ian’s groin closer, hitching his hips at the same time, enjoying the
pleasure-filled friction. He wanted to fuck, to roll his mate and pound
into his giving body, to find release.

But he took his time, taking pleasure in just holding Ian, touching

him.

“Sir,” Ian moaned into Mason’s mouth. The plea was desperate, as

if Ian was feeling the same fevered pitch building inside of him as
Mason felt in his own body. He added a third finger, giving Ian more
pleasure while he sought out the man’s prostate.

Ian bucked, crying out into Mason’s mouth as Mason stroked his

fingers over the walnut-sized gland. He spread his legs, settling Ian as
he drove his tongue deep into the man’s mouth, sucking his mate’s
tongue, licking over Ian’s teeth, and then finally nipping at his bottom
lip.

He was losing himself in Ian, and that was what Mason needed

tonight. He wanted to forget there was a battle in the morning. He
needed to forget his father wanted him dead. Mason craved to just
take Ian and run, never looking back.

But he couldn’t.

242 Lynn

Hagen

He had to help. But tonight, in the quietness of the night, Mason

was going to find his solace inside his mate’s tender body.

“I want things I’ve never wanted before,” Ian confessed against

Mason’s mouth.

Mason was panting, the softly spoken words setting his blood on

fire. “Like what?”

Ian pushed down, and then down some more. Mason pulled his

fingers from his mate’s body, watching in awed wonder as Ian licked
a path down Mason’s body and then engulfed his cock. Mason hissed,
stopping himself from bucking and lodging his cock deep into Ian’s
throat.

Mason’s knees fell apart, his eyes locking onto Ian’s lips. Tendrils

of sensation pulsed through Mason as Ian’s hand wrapped around his
straining cock, his tongue playing with the veins that ran alongside his
shaft.

Mason threw his head back and gritted his teeth as his body began

to quake with pleasure so extreme, it caused his hands to curl into
fists. He should be more in control. He should be guiding Ian. Mason
should be doing a hell of a lot of things right now, but the only thing
he was capable of doing was letting Ian give him so much pleasure
that Mason was close to exploding in the man’s mouth.

Ian seemed to catch on that Mason was holding back because he

doubled his efforts, taking Mason deeper, his other hand grabbing
Mason’s balls and swirling them around in the palm of his hand.
When Ian gave his sac a light pull, Mason growled as his release shot
down his mate’s throat in a pulsating force that damn near shadowed
the edges of Mason’s vision.

Mason didn’t take the time to relish the postorgasmic sensations.

He grabbed Ian under his arms and hauled the man back onto his
chest, taking Ian’s lips with his own, tasting his own seed, and sinking
into his mouth with feral savagery.

Rise to Submit

243

Mason was hot and hard all over again, nudging at Ian’s entrance.

Ian cried out into the kiss as Mason began to enter him. Everything
faded around Mason and his sole focus was Ian.

His mate.
He grabbed Ian’s hips, angling his mate for deeper penetration.

Mason was blindsided when Ian used his blunt teeth to bite into
Mason’s shoulder. He knew the man was averse to biting, so it
shocked him to his core when Ian clamped down on his flesh.

“Harder,” he growled, powering his hips, driving his cock deeper.
The raw sensation of his mate trying to claim him drove all

rational thoughts from his mind. His canines elongated, growing until
they touched his bottom lip. Ian glanced up at him, and there was
hesitancy in his eyes. He released Mason’s shoulder, leaned back,
staring at Mason’s teeth.

“Will it hurt, Sir?”
Mason knew the first time he had bitten Ian, it had been painful. It

was the initial mating bite. If they had been having sex at the time, the
pain would have morphed into pleasure. “Only for a few seconds,” he
said as he drove his cock repeatedly into Ian’s ass. He wanted to make
his mate become so unglued that he begged Mason to claim him once
more, to strengthen their bond.

Giving a hard thrust, Ian bowed his back and dug his fingernails

deep into Mason’s chest again. He could scent that Ian had drawn
blood this time. Mason growled and pulled Ian down for a firestorm
kiss. His mate sank into the kiss, his tongue licking around Mason’s
canines.

Ian wasn’t afraid of his teeth, Mason thought, but he was still

hesitant of the bite. Mason released Ian’s head and grabbed his mate’s
ass, spreading his twin globes, his fingers feeling his cock driving into
Ian’s hole.

Mason reached up and grabbed one of Ian’s hands, guiding it

behind him. “Feel what I’m doing to you.” He growled the words into
Ian’s mouth. “Feel my cock taking you.”

244 Lynn

Hagen

Ian’s fingers danced around Mason’s shaft, and then his hands

smoothed over the skin where they were joined. Mason slowed his
thrusts, letting Ian explore their combined bodies. His lithe fingers
separated, resting on either side of Mason’s cock, giving him added
friction.

Mason withdrew and then slowly reentered his mate’s ass, his

body shuddering at the feel of Ian’s fingers on his cock as it slid into
the man’s hole.

An erotic haze of sexual need surrounded Mason. His head ground

on the pillow when Ian squeezed his internal muscles, making his
body tighter around Mason’s shaft. “Do that again.”

Ian’s face suffused with pleasure, and then he moved his hand

away. “Go faster, Sir.”

Mason grabbed his hips, careful of his strength as he thrust deep

into Ian’s body and then set a rhythm that made them both moan. He
slowed.

“Please…Sir.”
“This is your lesson in mates, Ian. Feel what you do to me, what

I’m doing to you. Feel our bond grow between us.”

Ian nodded as if he understood. “Please, Mason.”
Mason continued his oh-so-slow movements. “I want to savor the

feel of you for as long as I can.” Because I might not make it back to
you.

His hands skimmed up Ian’s sides, playing with his soft skin, his

thumbs circling around the man’s hard nipples. He began to wonder if
the lives of the changelings in the detention center were worth leaving
Ian alone in this world if he did die.

Mason quickly pushed the thought aside as he pulled at the two

brown hues. Ian groaned, arching into Mason’s touch. Wrapping one
arm around Ian’s waist, Mason sat up and scooted back until his back
was against the wall. He pressed the heels of his feet into the mattress
as Ian sat in his lap. His cock was deeply embedded, and his hands
caressed through Ian’s hair.

Rise to Submit

245

It was Ian who cupped Mason’s face this time, his eyes

penetrating. “You look so lost.”

Mason pushed harder into the tight sheath, gritting his teeth now

at the pleasure. He didn’t want to analyze his emotions with Ian. He
didn’t want to tell his mate that he may die in the fight tomorrow. He
just wanted this one respite, this stolen moment.

Mason wrapped his arms around Ian, burying his face in the

man’s neck.

“Bite me.”
Mason scraped his teeth along the soft skin, but didn’t sink in.

“Why?” he asked as he licked along the salty skin.

Ian slid his hands up the back of Mason’s head, holding on. He

could scent the man’s fear and was about to ask his mate what was
wrong when Ian swallowed hard. “Because I love you.”

Mason bit down into Ian’s shoulder, the words forming a warm

cocoon around his aching heart. The soft leather at Ian’s neck scraped
at Mason’s cheek, but he ignored it as he thrust harder, strengthening
their bond and glorying in the cry his mate shouted as his cock pulsed
between them.

Ian bucked, holding on tight as Mason used Ian’s body to slam

down onto his cock. He wanted his own release. He wanted his seed
inside his mate, letting everyone who could scent such subtleties
know that Ian was his.

He could feel his eyes shifting, glowing as he suckled at Ian’s

neck. The taste was ambrosia. It was like nothing he had ever tasted
before. He had bitten Ian once before, but this was different. They
were bonding, Ian giving himself so willingly to Mason.

He pulled his canines free, licking at the wound and then threw his

head back and shouted with his release.

Ian clung to him, petting Mason through his climax, whispering

into Mason’s ear over and over again that he loved him.

Mason held on to Ian, long after the fracturing orgasm had

subsided. He never wanted to let the man go.

246 Lynn

Hagen

“You’ll come back to me,” Ian said softly. “I know you won’t

leave me alone.”

Mason closed his eyes and prayed the man was right. He prayed

all of this was worth it. He hated this war, hated his father, hated
Rick’s father for starting it all.

But what he hated the most was departing at first light and leaving

the one man who was his entire world behind.

Rise to Submit

247

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Rick stood in the canyon and stared at the head of each Rebellion

group. There were twenty in all, which meant he had roughly two
hundred men and women ready to go into battle with him.

But Freedman’s warning rang clear in his mind as he stared at

Loki, alpha of the weretigers in Colorado. He hadn’t heard from
Freedman yet, and had no clue if the man had succeeded in saving his
friend.

Nate had shown up in the wee hours of the morning, Selene at his

side. His two top enforcers now stood next to him as Rick glanced
around at each and every person. “Our main goal is to free as many
changelings as we can from the detention center. This will be a hard-
driven fight, and some may lose their lives”

He didn’t know most of the people standing here with him, but he

knew a majority of them would stand down when he went after Loki’s
traitorous throat. If any interfered, Rick had no doubt Nate and Selene
would take them out.

“But there is one problem with our plan,” Rick continued.
The men and women glanced all around at each other and then

turned back to Rick. “What is the problem?” a female werecougar
asked with hard pride in her voice. “We have plotted and planned,
thinking of every possible move our enemy could make.”

Nate and Selene moved closer, stepping close to his flank.
“The problem is that we have a traitor among us. Someone has

sold us out to changeling mercenaries.” Rick spat the last two words
as if they were a vile thing in his mouth. “It is bad enough that our

248 Lynn

Hagen

own species has agreed to kill us for profit, but now one of the head
Rebellions has sold us out.”

There were loud growls and yowls all around. The female who

had spoken stepped forward. “Tell us who this person is so we can
make him or her an example to all who think they can betray us.”

That was what Rick wanted to hear. He needed to know exactly

who he had on his side before he attacked. Rick walked through the
small gathering and stopped in front of Loki. Rick’s gaze was
penetrating. Loki stared right back, his eyes so cold that it could have
turned the surrounding area into the Northern Tundra. “You are
accusing me of being a traitor?” His words were clipped, offensive,
but Rick knew the tone for the act that it was.

“Tell me, Loki. You said you had our backs back in Colorado, yet

a truck full of Breed Hunters showed up not less than two minutes
after you pulled away. How is that?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Loki snapped.
“Where is Henderson?” Rick snarled his question. “Why has he

called and warned us that you sold us out to mercenaries?” Rick
prayed that Freedman had found the man. If not, Rick had just outed
his source.

Loki gave a long, mocking laugh. “I told you he suffered head

injuries. He wasn’t even aware of who you men were when we came
to the safe house. Why would he deny his own best friend if he
remembered?”

Rick stepped closer, snarling at Loki. “Because he had already

found out your plan to hand us over like animals!”

In the blink of an eye, Loki shifted into his tiger form, roaring

before leaping onto Rick. His claws were large, thick, and lethal, but
Rick had anticipated this move. Before Loki could strike, Rick had
shifted, jumping out of the way.

Nate and Selene held the others back, a deadly warning in their

eyes.

Rise to Submit

249

Loki swatted his massive paw in the air, bending his shoulders to

the ground in warning. The man was getting ready to attack. Rick was
in his third form, taller than everyone around him, and thicker than
even Loki in his beast form. His neck was three times the size of his
normal neck, and his claws were just as lethal. Rick bent his body
forward, giving a loud roar himself.

Loki’s eyes narrowed as he circled around Rick, his steps

measured, his movements calculating. “Are we to be ambushed out
here?” Rick asked as his steps matched every one of the tiger’s. “Or
are we to be ambushed at the detention center?”

Loki roared.
“You’re a fucking coward!” Rick raced forward, tackling the

tiger, both rolling head over heel. Loki’s body was massive, but Rick
was determined to kill the changeling who had betrayed them. “You
are changeling.” Rick dug his claws deep into the tiger’s shoulder.
“You should be proud and stand tall next to us.” Loki rolled over,
Rick’s claws slipping free. He stood and then went after the male tiger
again. “Instead you come from behind and embed the knife of
betrayal into all of our backs.”

Loki used his enormous paws to knock Rick back. He tried to

clamp down on Rick’s head, to apply pressure and crush his skull, but
Rick’s head was too vast for the planned attack. Loki’s jaws couldn’t
open that wide.

But it left his underbelly vulnerable.
Rick sunk both clawed hands into Loki’s soft underflesh, twisting

his wrists and using massive strength to pull the tiger’s vital organs
free.

Loki collapsed at Rick’s feet, his body unmoving.
Rick stood over him, feeling the bite of betrayal. It shouldn’t

amaze him how anyone could betray their own kind, not after the
many betrayals he had already witnessed firsthand, but it did.

Rick turned, staring at the other men and women around him. “We

need to head out.”

250 Lynn

Hagen

“But this is a setup, an ambush,” one of the men said. “We are

walking into our own deaths.”

“Then fucking stay behind,” he snarled. “I’m not letting our

brethren suffer any longer just because I know our enemy is waiting
on us.” Rick glanced all around him. “There are changelings sitting in
the dark somewhere, praying to be rescued, holding out one more day,
one more hour, in hopes that they will breathe fresh air once more.
Are any of you going to turn your backs and allow them to die with
that one last bit of faith residing inside of them?”

The female cougar stepped forward, dropped to one knee, and

bowed her head. “I will give my last breath to save all that I can.”

One by one, the others dropped to one knee, bowing their heads,

and giving the same pledge. Rick stood there, feeling the pride of his
species well up inside of him. For a moment he was too choked to
speak. He was witnessing something he had never thought to see—
unity among all breeds, a rock-solid commitment to help those who
were strangers to them.

Rick made a promise to himself in that solemn moment. He was

going to make sure all changelings, no matter what breed, continued
to live as one unified species. No longer would there be barriers
between them just because they were not the same beast. No longer
would he watch them kill each other over land and differences.

“Let us head out and save those who we can,” Rick finally spoke,

but not without a hard lump in his throat. “We attack as planned. We
drive our enemy back, and we show them that we will not die silently
and without a fight.”

Rick turned and made his way back to his vehicle. Dorian was

waiting for him, his eyes shining with pride as Rick approached.

“Ready?” he asked.
Rick hated that his mate was coming, but there had been no

dissuading the man. He had reminded Rick that he was there from the
beginning, and he would be there until the very end. Rick gave a tight
nod as he climbed into the driver’s seat. But before Dorian could

Rise to Submit

251

buckle himself into the passenger’s side, Rick pulled him close and
kissed the man, pouring all of his emotions and his fears into that one
stroke of their lips. There was so much he wanted to say, to tell his
mate, but knew there wasn’t enough time in the world to express how
much the man meant to him.

He pulled away and started the Suburban, heading toward the

detention center and what could be his death.

About a mile from the center, Rick, along with the other

Rebellions, pulled off the side of the road, parking. They would go on
foot from here. Trees littered the landscape, but not enough to give
them sufficient cover.

The humans would see them coming. Rick knew this. There was

no other way to go in. They would storm the place, overrun the
humans, and free the men and women trapped behind the cold walls
of experimentation.

Rick suited up, along with Dorian. He strapped guns to his thighs,

pulled on a shoulder holster, and grabbed the M249 SAW rifle from
the back of the truck. Freedman had given it to him. He had given
Rick a string of chemical tracer round bullets and told him that the
bullets glowed every third round so he could see where his bullets
were hitting. He also told Rick they were 5.56 mm. Hell if Rick knew
what that meant.

He had been a district manager before all of this, not a soldier. He

trusted Freedman, so Rick slammed the hatch closed and walked
around the side of his truck.

When everyone was ready, they began their trek. Seeing the group

as a whole amazed him. The number of men and women determined
to fight for their kind hit Rick hard in his chest. There should have
been more, a lot more, but he was grateful for those who had
answered his call.

Rick slowed his pace as they drew near. His heart began to

thunder behind his chest when he saw the tanks—fucking tanks—
sitting in all in a row, their guns aimed in the Rebellions’ direction.

252 Lynn

Hagen

“Holy fuck,” Dorian whispered.
Rick turned grabbing Dorian’s arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Get back to the truck!”

Dorian wrenched his arm free, giving Rick a glare made of steel.

“If you fight, I fight. I’m not backing down, Rick. I’m at your side, no
matter the odds. We’re in this together,”—Dorian’s voice dropped to
a whisper—“until the very end.”

Rick grabbed Dorian by the back of his neck, his grip hard,

feeling his stomach turn over in knots as his chest constricted. “I can’t
watch you die, gatito. I’m not strong enough to watch you die.”

“Then I’ll make sure that I don’t.”
Rick smashed his mouth onto Dorian’s, stealing one last kiss. He

could feel the tears threatening to spill as he let his mate go.

“Ready?” Nate asked from beside him, and Rick could hear the

slight fear in the man’s voice.

Rick nodded. “Ready.”
They were about two hundred yards out. The enemy was silent,

unmoving, but Rick knew they were there. He could feel their
presence like a disease as it crawled over him.

They moved forward in one solid unit.
Chaos erupted. Humans exploded from the building, through

doors, on the roof, from behind the tanks, firing their weapons. Rick
pressed the butt of his rifle hard against his shoulder and returned fire
as they raced to close the distance. Men and women fell all around
him, but they pressed on.

A loud explosion sounded.
A tank had fired.
But Rick kept going, listening to the deafening sound of his rifle

fire at the enemy as they stormed the detention center.

It had been a trap. The enemy had been waiting.
Dorian had his gun in his hand, aiming, firing, and then running

forward. Rick was both proud and downright terrified. He had to push
thoughts of losing his mate aside and focus.

Rise to Submit

253

Nate shouldered the AT4 and fired the rocket launcher, the side of

the building crumbling. He had just given them their way in.

Rick ran through the smoke and crumbling debris, glancing

around and then taking off down one hallway, Dorian, Nate, and
Selene right behind him.

Soldiers came at him.
Not guards.
Soldiers.
Rick aimed, firing one round at a time now, watching as the bullet

glowed before hitting its mark. Rebellion groups poured in behind
him and took off, going after the captured. Rick stayed where he was,
holding off as many as he could.

His mind was focused. He was calm. Rick knew what he had to do

and kept all other thoughts at bay. He had a purpose, a goal, and he
was going to make sure as many left this place as possible.

“Having fun without me?”
Rick was shocked to hear a voice he hadn’t heard in months

beside him, but he didn’t lose focus. “How in the hell did you find
me, Ross?”

The human who was the first sympathizer to help Rick on his

journey laughed. “I keep my ear to the wire.”

Rick smiled and then shot a human who had spun around from a

corner.

“But I didn’t come alone,” Ross said. “I brought help.”
“We need to get everyone free before reinforcements show up.”

Rick pressed forward, his gun at the ready as he did a quick head
check around the corner. When he didn’t see anyone, he moved down
the hallway. Nate and Selene, along with Dorian, were running from
cell to cell, opening the doors. There weren’t bars. The doors were
solid steel, a large sliding lock holding each one in place.

“I don’t think they expected us to get this far,” Rick said to Ross.

“But I’m pretty damn sure someone has called for help already.”

“Then I suggest we shake a leg.”

254 Lynn

Hagen

Ross took off, opening doors as he made his way down the

hallway. Rick kept his eye on Dorian, but turned and released the
lever of the cell door next to him. When he glanced inside, Rick had
to look twice.

It couldn’t be.
“Olivia?”
The pack healer lay cowering in a corner, her face barely

recognizable behind all the injuries inflicted on her. “How did you
end up here?”

Olivia lifted her head slowly, a sob tearing from her chest. “Is that

really you, alpha?”

Rick moved into the tiny room barely wide enough to be called a

closet and squatted down in front of her. Olivia cringed, a small
helpless noise sounding in her throat.

“You’re safe, hon. You’re safe.” Had Graham sold his own mate

out? Had he handed Olivia over—“Where are the pups?”

Olivia blinked up at him, her eyes unfocused.
“Where are your pups, Olivia?” he said more sternly. “Where are

my godsons?”

“Gone,” she whispered. “They took my babies from me when they

found us in the mountains.”

Her words brought a chill to Rick’s soul. He knew the humans

kept the young from their parents in the detention centers. He prayed
with fervor that they were just in another part of the building.

Rick lifted her from the floor. “You have to walk. I need you to

get out of here as quickly as you can.”

Olivia collapsed back onto the hard floor, a cry of pain falling

from her lips. Rick inhaled deeply and smelled something he wished
was untrue.

She wasn’t going to make it out of here. Olivia was dying. There

was an underlying scent of an unknown chemical inside of her, and
Rick knew they had experimented on her already.

Rise to Submit

255

“Find them,” she whispered desperately. “Find my babies and

save them.”

Rick stared at her in a detached sense of reality. He had to get

moving, but he also had to know. “Did you betray us, Olivia? Did you
know Graham had sold us out?”

Olivia lifted her head, her eyes telling Rick all he needed to know.
She had betrayed them.
Still, he knelt in front of her, cupping her face. “I’ll find them and

raise them as my own. They will never know their parents treachery
or feel shame for what you and Graham did to us.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, alpha. They took my

boys. I had no choice.”

“We all have choices.” Rick stood, walking from the small room.

His heart bled for Olivia, but she had done this to herself. His only
goal now was to find his godsons and keep them safe.

They were going to know who their parents were, but Rick was

not going to lay the burden of their betrayal on the boys’ shoulders.

He was going to raise them to love who they were, who they

would become, and be proud of their parents who died in a war to
save their species.

256 Lynn

Hagen

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The soldiers were coming in droves as Mason held them off. He

aimed his rifle at the oncoming humans, firing his automatic weapon.
He was pinned down and didn’t see a way out, so he was going to
take out as many of the bastards as he could.

He lay on his stomach, his eyes level with the scope, thinking

about Ian. His mate had been brave when Mason left him in the wee
hours of the morning. He hadn’t begged Mason not to go. He hadn’t
cried that he didn’t want to be left alone.

He had just stood there, an expression of pure love in his eyes as

Mason climbed into Rick’s truck and pulled away.

Ian was at the motel, a few changelings of the Rebellion group

remaining behind to watch over him. Uri, a werebear, had promised to
protect Ian with his life. Mason had no choice but to trust the man.
Clyde had given his word that Ian would be safe, and Rick had given
his word that Clyde could be trusted.

Mason trusted no one when it came to Ian, not one hundred

percent, but knowing Rick was confident about the bear’s credentials
eased some of Mason’s worry.

The soldiers pressed on.
Mason scooted back, but he had nowhere to go. A solid wall lay

behind him. The only reason they hadn’t killed him yet was because
he was half hidden behind a large tank. But the block wasn’t going to
last long.

They were getting closer.

Rise to Submit

257

Just as Mason thought he was seeing his end, Benito and Miguel

came to his rescue, firing from the other side. Mason could hear
Benito shouting, “Say hello to my little friend!”

The man was nuts.
But it gave Mason the escape he needed. Jumping to his feet,

Mason took off inside the building, running down hallways, looking
for closed doors. He knew their time was short lived. Reinforcements
would be here soon, and then they wouldn’t have a fighting chance.

He hurried around another corner, spotting a door sealed tight.

Mason raced to it, expecting to find a captured changeling.

Instead, when he swung the door wide, his heart lodged in his

throat. There, on the other side of the room, stood his father.

Mason was frozen for a moment in time, remembering all the

horrific things this man had done to his very own species. He also
remembered the man blowing up the college Mason was attending,
while he was still there.

“I should have known you would be part of the Rebellion group,”

his father said haughtily, pompous arrogance clear in his tone. “You
were always too proud for you own good.”

Mason moved into the room, closing the door behind him. He

wanted no interruptions. “And I should have known your cold heart
would lead you to experiment on your own species.”

“They are animals!” His calm demeanor slipped. “What do I care?

They are no one.”

Mason moved further into the room, but stayed on the opposite

side, away from his father. He didn’t trust the man. James Sellers was
a formidable opponent, not to be taken lightly. “Funny,” Mason said
as he made sure his rifle was tucked into his side, the barrel facing his
father, “but it always seems to slip your mind that you are one of
those animals.”

The blunt statement made his father’s eyes blaze with unfettered

anger. His nostrils flared and then just that quickly his anger seemed
to slip away. “I am a scientist first and foremost. Science is my life.

258 Lynn

Hagen

My company has helped more people than your mind could ever
understand.”

“Like the babies you experimented on?” His tone was full of feral

viciousness as he thought about baby Kell. His heart constricted when
he thought about the six toddlers who were rescued from the Calvary
Home of Salvation. There was nothing his father could say to appease
Mason’s jaguar. Those were innocent lives the man had experimented
on. They were too young to fight back, too young to voice their
opposition to what was being done to them.

“Those experiments were—”
“Children!” Mason shouted. “Not experiments.”
His father raked his eyes over Mason as if the thought of being

corrected was abhorrent to him. “Those children were prime for what
I had planned. They were at the correct age for the scientific
breakthrough of a lifetime. If your people hadn’t interfered, my work
would have been the pioneer in the greatest bioengineering to ever be
discovered.”

“How in the fuck can I be your son?” Mason asked as he stared at

a man he had barely known his entire life. They were like night and
day. Whereas Mason cared and had a conscience, this man only cared
about his work, not giving a rat’s ass who was killed along the way.
“What did you do to those babies?”

“Something marvelous.” His father’s eyes seemed to glow as he

spoke. Mason moved closer to the counter, eyeing the mad fucker,
and then picked up a syringe.

“I’d be careful with that if I were you.”
Mason glanced at the small cylinder object in his hand. He could

see clear liquid swimming around inside. “Why?”

“Because,” his father said as he moved around the table he had

been standing behind, “that will transform you into your beast, never
to return to your human form.”

Mason dropped the syringe back on the counter and raised his

gun. “I wouldn’t get too close if I were you.”

Rise to Submit

259

Eyes narrowing, James glared at him. “Did you come here to kill

your very own father? I don’t think you have the balls.” His father’s
eyes shifted into his jaguar eyes. “I don’t think you have the heart to
take a life. You are too pampered, too self-absorbed.”

“And that’s where you would be wrong.” Mason fired one single

shot. James growled as the bullet embedded into his right thigh. The
man didn’t howl in pain. He stood there with his jaw clenched and his
hands curled into fists.

“And what was that supposed to accomplish?”
“It pleased my cat,” he answered tauntingly. “Something you

would know nothing about.”

“You are testing my patience, boy.”
“I stopped being a boy years ago,” Mason reminded him with a

low growl. “And no, I don’t plan on killing you. I’m going to watch
everything that you have killed to protect fall down around you. I’m
going to watch your mighty empire crumble.”

There was a loud noise just outside the room, making Mason turn

his head. It was just enough of a distraction for his father to charge
him. The man collided his body into Mason’s, knocking the gun out
of his hand at the same time. His father may deny who he was, his
changeling heritage, but he was still an alpha male, not easily
defeated.

Mason struggled to keep his father’s hands from going around his

neck, but James was too strong. His fingers squeezed tightly, cutting
off Mason’s air supply and making him gasp for breath.

He spun, knocking over a cart, items crashing to the floor. His

father’s eyes were so hate-filled that Mason was beginning to see him
as a stranger, a monster that had to be put down like a rabid dog.
There would be no talking to him. There would be no bargaining. But
Mason had already known this.

Reaching behind him, Mason grabbed the syringe, curling his

fingers around the hard plastic, and then rammed his curled fist into
his father’s side, pressing the plunger all the way down.

260 Lynn

Hagen

His father released him and Mason took in a deep, ragged breath,

his throat burning as oxygen began to flow back into his lungs. His
father fell to the floor, shouting, writhing around, and then his jaguar
form exploded.

Mason knew he was looking at a man on the edge, a feral creature

who was going to try to kill him. Mason dropped to the floor,
reaching for his rifle. His fingers grabbed at it just as his father leapt
onto him, knocking the air from his lungs.

Mason spun, using the rifle to shove against his father’s widely

opened mouth. “You are never going to be human again,” he barked.
“Now I can watch your precious company fall apart. Not only that—”
Mason shoved hard, knocking the jaguar off of him. He quickly stood,
aiming the gun at his father’s head. “But now you will be as hunted as
the rest of us are. Welcome to my world, Dad.”

Mason backed away, keeping the gun trained on the beast as he

reached behind him and opened the door. He quickly exited and
slammed it closed behind him, hearing the loud yowl and then
something heavy hit the door.

He prayed the man got what he had coming to him. As much as

Mason wanted to be the one to execute the sick son of a bitch, James
Sellers was still his father. It was a fucked-up truth, but it had stopped
Mason from blowing the man’s head off.

At least now his father’s days of experimenting were over.
Mason spotted Sasha, Benito, and Miguel racing down the

hallway, shooting over their shoulders as they ran.

“Get the fuck out of here!” Sasha shouted. “Reinforcements have

arrived, and they don’t look like they are playing around.”

Mason took off, following the three as loud explosions rent

through the air. They were using the tanks. Shit. “How in the hell are
we supposed to get out of here?” Mason asked.

“Easy.” Sasha gave him a wicked smile. “It’s our men firing those

big guns.”

Rise to Submit

261

Well hell. That should give them enough cover to make it out of

there. He hoped. “We have their tanks?”

“Damn right!” Miguel shouted.
As Mason raced for the exit, he saw the reinforcements heading

their way, driving closer to the center.

He said a quick prayer as he hauled ass.

* * * *

O’Hanlon sat at his desk with a tight jaw and thin lips as he read

the reports coming in. The soldiers had not only lost the fight at the
detention center in New Mexico, but Enrique fucking Marcelo had
survived.

He was seen carrying two small children as he ran away.

O’Hanlon wondered if the man had children he didn’t know about. He
crumbled the paper and threw it across the room, vowing to use any
means necessary to kill the son of a bitch.

O’Hanlon was also pissed that his unit had come up empty when

they raided the farmhouse in Nevada. Whoever had hacked into his
computer was long gone. He would go after Kraven for botching this
whole plan, but something deep down in O’Hanlon cautioned him
when dealing with the undead. There was something holding him
back, and O’Hanlon had learned to listen to his instincts.

But there was one bright moment in this fucked-up situation.
It seemed Enrique had two very small Achilles’ heels O’Hanlon

could use to bring the animal down.

* * * *

Freedman tossed the shovel aside, dropping down onto his ass. He

hadn’t saved Henderson in time. The man was torn to pieces by the
time Freeman had gotten to him. There was barely anything left to
bury.

262 Lynn

Hagen

The rage filled him to overflowing. It was Freedman’s fault

Nicholas had been involved in all of this to begin with. If he hadn’t
sent his best friend to warn the werewolf alpha, Middleton wouldn’t
have found the man out and tried to kill him.

If it was the last thing Freedman did, he was going to see

O’Hanlon dead. He had already killed Middleton, but that wasn’t
appeasing his aching soul. No, Freedman was going to go after the
man who had started all of this.

“Are we leaving now?” Omar asked from beside him.
“Yes,” Freedman answered as he stood, glancing back down at the

unmarked grave. “We are leaving.”

“To where?”
Freedman looked into Omar’s eyes, staring at a man who had

helped him bury his best friend. “To kill Enrique Marcelo’s father.”

* * * *

Kraven sat behind his desk as he watched the news. The second

detention center had been attacked, the changelings freed.

It seemed Enrique Marcelo was not a man to toy with. He had

gotten further than Kraven had thought. The werewolf alpha should
have been dead by now, but it seemed he had an entire army of
Rebellions backing him.

For now Kraven would fade into the woodworks. He wasn’t even

going to send Remee after that sniveling human, Ian. He didn’t care
about avenging Newman’s death. His best course of action would be
for them to forget about him and then strike. Let Enrique become
complacent as far as Kraven was concerned.

That was exactly what he wanted.

Rise to Submit

263

Chapter Thirty

“He wants me to do what?” Ian asked in surprise.
Mason set the bag on the bed and then stopped in front of Ian, his

eyes softening. “Rick wants you to take over communication since
Omar is gone from our group.”

“But–but I don’t know anything about that stuff.”
Ian began to pant as Mason reached out and traced his finger

along the collar on Ian’s neck, and then that same finger traced Ian’s
profile. “I have every confidence you will learn what is needed in
order to get the job done.”

Ian wasn’t so sure, but if Mason had a stern belief he could do it,

then Ian would give it a try. It made him feel like he was contributing
something to this group. He glanced around the room they were in,
another safe house, another state, everything so unfamiliar to him.

But instead of feeling lost and alone, Ian glanced up at Mason and

knew he would never be alone again. His mate had come back to him,
whole, and pulling Ian into the tightest embrace he had ever been in.

“Who is going to show me?”
Mason’s grin widened. “Your father.”
Ian felt his knees begin to shake as his father appeared in the

bedroom doorway. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t have a
conversation with the man who meant so much to him. Ian looked up
to his father, thought him the strongest man he knew.

“Hello, Ian.”
Ian’s eyes shot to Mason, pleading.
Mason cupped Ian’s face, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. “Just

hear him out. You’ll be amazed at what he knows and how he feels.”

264 Lynn

Hagen

Ian wasn’t so sure about that. He had done some pretty terrible

things in the past four years. How was he to stand in front of the man
who had the potential to destroy him and look his father in his eyes?

Ian’s heart began to beat wildly when his father’s eyes raked over

him, assessing, judging. “Nice outfit. Not as nice as the one your
mother wears, but still high quality.”

Ian froze, his mind reaching, grasping at what the man was telling

him. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it, nor did he want to.

She was his mother, after all.
That was just weird.
He watched his father’s every move, every emotion on his face as

he closed the door. “I hear you are doing a lot better.”

Ian gave a jerky nod, still unable to talk. He couldn’t, not when

his voice was frozen in his throat, forming a hard lump. Mason
walked over to the chair by the window and took a seat, leaving him
to face his father.

“Mason gave me permission to speak with you, but if it’s too

much, I can go.” His father tucked his hands into his pants, giving Ian
an easy, gentle smile. It was the same smile he had given Ian when he
was a little boy whenever he had done something right, something
good. Ian felt six years old all over again as he just stood there, his
heart still beating wildly in his chest.

He finally shook his head and then looked up at the mighty man.

“Tell me you love me,” he begged as his eyes burned with unshed
tears. “Tell me you’re proud of me.”

His father closed the distance, pulling Ian into a tight hug. It was

the same hug Ian had received so many years ago when he was hurt or
scared. They were the same strong arms, giving him an anchor,
helping him wade through a storm.

Ian began to cry. Loud, soul-wrenching sobs exploded from him

as his father ran his hands over Ian’s head. “I’m very proud of you,
son. You overcame monumental obstacles and came out alive. You

Rise to Submit

265

survived, and a father couldn’t be prouder that you have the will to go
on, to try and pull your life back together.”

“I’m so sorry, Dad. I’m so damn sorry.”
His father tilted Ian’s head back, smiling at him. “For what, Ian?

For making a mistake you learned from? That’s a part of life. What
separates you from hopelessness is that you learned from your
mistakes.” His father took a step back, holding Ian at arm’s length as
he stared at his leather and chains. “It seems I need to go shopping.
I’m way behind on the new shit that’s out.”

Ian heard a small chuckle coming from Mason. “I’ll let you know

the store I shopped at.”

“Lillian would look great in this.”
Ian shuddered. “That’s my mom you’re talking about.”
His father and Mason gave each other a look and then started to

laugh. Ian glanced between the two.

Mason nodded at him. “Your father is standing there looking at

what another man has put on you, and you are getting grossed out
about thoughts of your mom wearing that?”

Ian nodded.
They laughed again.
“When you are ready, come downstairs and I’ll show you the

basics in our communication setup.” His father kissed the top of his
head and left the room. Ian just stood there, stunned.

“Come here.”
Ian turned and walked over to Mason.
“Rest position.”
Ian knelt down, his knees falling onto a soft pillow. He placed his

hands on his thighs, bowing his head.

“How do you feel, Ian?”
“Strange, Sir,” Ian admitted. “Very strange.”
“But are you okay with your father?”
Ian nodded. He was more than okay. The one man who could

have made him feel like the scum of the earth had made Ian feel like

266 Lynn

Hagen

he was worth more than richest man in the world. It was strange how
his father’s approval had settled something broken inside of him,
making it just a bit easier to breathe.

“I have something for you.” Mason stood, going to the bed and

grabbing the bag he had set down. Ian wanted to look, but kept his
head lowered. He wondered if it was more fetish wear or toys, but
what Mason showed him almost made Ian cry all over again.

It was a large sketch pad, along with an assortment of drawing

materials. He set them down next to Ian. “I want you to get back into
drawing. A hobby would be good for you.” Mason tapped a finger
under Ian’s chin, lifting his head. “I want you to heal, Ian. I want you
to know that you are loved, and that you have nothing to be ashamed
of.”

Ian’s nodded, biting at his bottom lip as Mason’s eyes

concentrated on him. “Go ahead and open it up. Take some time to be
yourself and draw.”

Ian’s fingers smoothed over the pad and then he lifted it from the

floor, hugging it close. He gave Mason a wobbly smile as he stood.

Yes, he had a long way to go, but he knew with Mason helping

him, the journey to his healing would be more bearable. He leaned
forward and gave his mate a kiss. “Thank you, Sir.”

Mason smiled.
“For everything.”

* * * *

Rick pulled up in front of Brooke and Deluca’s house. Well,

technically it was Brooke’s parents’. He glanced in the backseat to see
Hunter and Samuel gazing at him.

“Are we here?” Hunter asked as he fidgeted in his car seat to look

out the window.

Rise to Submit

267

“We’re here.” Rick climbed out of the truck as Brooke opened the

front door. He stood on the porch, watching as Rick and Dorian
pulled the two toddlers from the truck.

Rick had never been more glad in his life when he found his

godsons not only alive, but looking healthy. He wasn’t sure if the
boys had been experimented on, but he didn’t smell any chemicals
inside of them as he did their mother.

Only time would tell.
He picked Hunter up as Dorian did the same with Samuel. They

both walked up the stairs until they were standing there with Brooke.

“Thanks,” Rick said as he shifted Hunter around so he could

shake the man’s hand. “Thanks for taking them until I can provide a
stable home.”

Brooke clapped Rick on his back. “They’ll be safe here. Besides,

Peanut is looking forward to having playmates. She says Kell gets
boring sometimes.” Brooke gave a small chuckle as he led them
inside.

Rick glanced around the area before stepping into his godsons’

new home, praying this war ended soon so he could raise the boys and
finally have a life with his mate.

As they set the boys on their feet, Rick pulled Dorian close, as the

two young changelings met Harmony and then smiled, running off
with her to play.

He hated leaving them, but knew he had no choice. He had a war

to win and a father to kill.

But he would be back for Hunter and Samuel.
They were his responsibility now, and Rick didn’t plan on leaving

them behind.

268 Lynn

Hagen

End of Book 4: Rise to Submit

To be continued in

Book 5: Rise to Seduction

WWW.LYNNHAGEN.COM

FACEBOOK.COM/LYNNHAGEN.MANLOVE

LYNNHAGEN.BLOGSPOT.COM

GROUPS.YAHOO.COM/GROUP/LYNNHAGEN

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lynn Hagen loves writing about the somewhat flawed, but

lovable. She also loves a hero who can see past all the rough edges to
find the shining diamond of a beautiful heart.

You can find her on any given day curled up with her laptop and a

cup of hot java, letting the next set of characters tell their story.

For all titles by Lynn Hagen, please visit

www.bookstrand.com/lynn-hagen

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

Wyszukiwarka

Podobne podstrony:
Lynn Hagen Rise Of The Changelings 05 Rise To Seduction
Rise to Live Hagen Lynn
Lynn Hagen Rise of the Changelings 6 Rise to Fall(1)
Lynn Hagen [Bear County 04] Cowboy Rescue [Siren ManLove MM] (pdf)
Stormy Glenn and Lynn Hagen Lady Blue Crew 04 Adwaka s Blade
04 Melosik To samo supermarke Nieznany
English Parliament's Rise to Power in theth?ntury
The?ctors that Gave Rise To Japanese Militarism
Encyclopedia Biblica Vol 1 04 Hints To Reader
Vladimir Lenin Analysis of his Rise to Power
04 Melosik To samo supermarke Nieznany
Lynn Hagen Brac Pack 5 Stormy Eyes
Brac Pack 28 Take my hand Lynn Hagen
Lynn Hagen Cowboy Trust
Lynn Hagen [Bear County 05] Cowboy Legend [Siren ManLove MM] (pdf)
2004 04 when to walk away from a deal
04 Co to za znaczki w nutach
Lynn Hagen Tasting the Forbidden
Christie Agatha Nadinspektor Battle 04 Morderstwo to nic trudnego

więcej podobnych podstron