Guide to Armageddon 1.0
Accepting the Impossible
When the war between humans and paranormals escalates into
biological warfare, humans suddenly find themselves topping the
endangered species list.
Forced underground by the New Order, Warren Colfax has to
believe that sleeping in the foul sewers is preferable to becoming a
paranormal’s plaything. When a raid for supplies lands him right in
the hands of the enemy, the last thing he expected was for the
“monster” to step in as his protector.
Lieutenant Drakon Rhinegold isn’t impressed with fate’s choice of
pairing him with a human, but when circumstances out of his
control arise, he finds himself responsible for Warren whether he
likes it or not.
In a new world where nothing is ever as black and white as it
seems, the pair will have to overcome their preconceived notions,
look past the surface, and learn to trust all over again if they have
any hope of surviving Armageddon.
Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Futuristic, Paranormal
Length: 36,994 words
ACCEPTING THE IMPOSSIBLE
Guide to Armageddon 1.0
Gabrielle Evans
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MANLOVE
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ACCEPTING THE IMPOSSIBLE
Copyright © 2012 by Gabrielle Evans
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-233-4
First E-book Publication: August 2012
Cover design by Sloan Winters
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ACCEPTING THE
IMPOSSIBLE
Guide to Armageddon 1.0
GABRIELLE EVANS
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
July 28
th
The end of the world didn’t come with bright lights, sirens, or the
invasion of alien life forms. It wasn’t a meteor crashing to Earth,
political overthrow, or a world war. No, the end of the world arrived
with stealth and cunning.
We’ve all read the stories, the fairy tale-like romances that led us
to believe vampires, werewolves, and the like are really just
misunderstood. They’re no different than we are, right?
Wrong.
There was no miraculous invention of synthetic blood. Vampires
didn’t suddenly appear on the nightly news with bright smiles and
poetic speeches of equality and living in harmony with humans. The
weres and shifters didn’t roll over on their backs and let us scratch
their bellies. Demons and goblins didn’t pretend they had hearts of
gold and no ulterior motives. Fairies—let’s just say they aren’t all
sparkly with iridescent wings and like to sprinkle you with magic dust
and grant your wishes.
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Gabrielle Evans
From what I’ve observed in the last eight months, most of the
legends are bullshit—which only makes our enemies that much harder
to fight. Vampires definitely walk in the daylight. Werewolves and
shifters don’t need a full moon to transform. Well, you get the idea. As
if their superior strength and savagery weren’t weapons enough,
every weakness we’d read in books or seen in movies was false.
Un-fucking-believable.
When the world first became aware of paranormals, it was
already too late to fight back. Since our enemies were impervious to
such things as disease, biological warfare became their ultimate
weapon, wiping out massive numbers of the population.
Those who managed to survive the airborne plague were easily
subdued and enslaved, be it blood slaves, sex slaves, or just general
working slaves. The supes just seemed to enjoy watching humans
suffer.
Those of us with half a brain banded together, seeking refuge in
old bomb shelters, sewers, and abandoned underground labs. Imagine
my surprise when I realized things like secret labs actually existed. I
suppose it was naïve after the great unveiling of the paranormal
world. I never said I was perfect.
We move around constantly, afraid of being discovered. Food is a
rare commodity, and the danger to obtain it is great. As I write, we’re
preparing for another raid. We’re down to a box of saltines and an
almost-empty jar of peanut butter between the six of us.
Our faction is small, but we’re constantly looking for others.
We’re also positive there are more groups like ours, hiding
underground and surviving by pure will. Maybe we’ll find them.
Maybe we’ll band together and try to win back our world.
I’m not holding my breath.
It may not be a happy existence, but it is an existence, and one I’m
grateful for. Most have not been so lucky. My brother, Kennedy, found
out the hard way how cruel life can be outside the protection of these
Accepting the Impossible
9
walls. I hope to see him again one day, but logically, I know this is an
unrealistic dream.
I’ll keep hoping, though. For most of us, hope is all we have left.
—Warren P. Colfax, Survivor
* * * *
Tying his stringy, blond hair back with the strip of leather he’d
procured somewhere along the way, Warren watched his companions
scrambling about as they prepared to leave the sanctuary of the
sewers. The strong stench of the putrid waters had settled into his
clothing, his skin, and every inhale made him want to gag. They
definitely needed to move on and find a better place to set up camp.
Damn, what he wouldn’t give for a shower. It was beyond shitty
that the world hadn’t technically ended like it did in the movies.
Above them, life went on almost as though nothing had ever
happened. Electricity, running water, grocery stores, and malls still
operated quite efficiently. All of those things, however, were
controlled by the New Order—the paranormals.
If smelling like he’d rolled around in a dead animal carcass was
the price he had to pay to remain free and alive, he’d gladly accept it.
No way was he going to allow himself to become a blood bag for a
vampire or a kinky new toy for a werewolf. Though he much
preferred to remain among the living, even death was a kinder fate
than what awaited humans inside the paranormal cities.
“Are we ready?” their leader, Arizona, asked. It wasn’t as though
they’d all taken a vote to appoint him to the position, but as the
biggest and strongest, along with his military experience, he was
basically the only man for the job.
A chorus of agreement went around the group as they finished
tucking weapons into their belts. Portia was the only female in their
group, but she was a freaking Amazon, so Warren decided she didn’t
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Gabrielle Evans
really count. Hell, she was taller than his own five foot nine, and
could probably beat his ass to a pulp—not that he’d ever admit it
aloud.
“Everyone knows the rules,” Arizona continued as he pushed his
black hair out of his eyes. “We stick together. No one tries to play the
hero. If shit goes bad, it’s every man for himself, and we do not come
back here until we know it’s safe.”
Yeah, it was kind of harsh, but Warren understood. One weak link
could destroy them all. Sacrifice one to save many. It actually wasn’t
much different than the ideals of the old world. Shrugging on his
tattered backpack, he rolled his shoulders to make the load more
comfortable and took his place in the queue at the bottom of the
ladder.
“Move it, man.” Someone shoved at his back, causing him to
stumble forward. Quick reflexes were the only thing that saved him
from doing a face-plant right into the rusted metal of the ladder. Both
hands shot out in front of him, gripping the rung at eye level, and
Warren cursed when something sharp stabbed into his palm.
Just fucking great. The last thing he needed was to broadcast his
scent to waiting vampires. Those assholes were like sharks, detecting
blood up to a mile away. He might as well just paint a target on his
neck and ring the dinner bell.
Tearing off a strip of fabric from the tail of his plaid shirt, he
wrapped it around the cut, covering it as best he could. It was just
going to have to work. He glared at the man behind him, a little
shrimp of a guy whose name he couldn’t remember. Then he shook
off the affront like he always did and ascended the ladder into the
warm night breeze.
He took several deep breaths, ridiculously pleased by the fresh air
that filled his lungs. Vampires walked in the sunlight. Werewolves
prowled the nights. There really was no safe time for these raids, but
at least they had a measure of safety in the cloak of darkness.
Accepting the Impossible
11
Their goal was a small grocer just on the edge of the city limits,
only a quarter-mile hike from where they stood. He’d heard rumors of
a camp just beyond the Great Smoky Mountains in North Carolina
where humans gathered, allied by the elves, witches, and other
sympathizers.
Maybe one day he’d make it that far to find out. Until then, he’d
stick to his side of the mountain range in Tennessee. He hadn’t seen a
television or a newspaper in months, so he had no news of life outside
of their small area of land. Had the rest of the world fallen under the
same rule? Maybe there were still places left on other continents that
were untouched. Free. Safe.
They kept close to the buildings, ducking around circles of light
created by the streetlamps and sticking to the shadows. Traveling
single-file kept them from being too noticeable, but it sucked donkey
balls to be the man bringing up the rear. So, yay for him that he’d
somehow managed to find himself in that position.
Every fourth step was followed by a glance over his shoulder.
Each time he looked, he just knew he’d see a monster of the night
barreling toward him. It never happened, but the anxiety stayed with
him until they’d finally reached their destination.
By the time he slipped around the corner of the market, Arizona
was already working on the lock while Portia worked her magic on
the alarm system. Maybe she really had magic. Warren didn’t know,
and he didn’t care. She was damn useful in situations like these, and
that was all that mattered.
There were a dozen different things he could have blamed his
inattention on, but the truth was he’d slipped. A deadly mistake that
could cost him dearly and one he rarely made. As a massive man
emerged from the darkness of the alley, he realized that was exactly
what he’d done. He’d lost focus, and now he was dead.
Portia whipped her head around, her nostrils flaring as she sniffed
at the air. What the hell was that about? “Run,” she urged them in a
frightened whisper before taking off in a dead sprint.
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Gabrielle Evans
Warren didn’t waste time asking questions. Turning on his heels,
he hauled ass back the way he came, trying to remember the layout of
the neighborhood and where the safest place to hide was. Since the
guy in the alley was most likely a supe, Warren couldn’t outrun him,
but maybe he could outwit him.
A loud, feminine scream ripped through the night, alerting every
paranormal in a five mile radius to their whereabouts. It died quickly,
though, leaving nothing but an echo to ring down the deserted street.
And so Portia had met her demise. He should probably feel more
upset about that, but it was the exact reason that he never formed
attachments within the group. Every human life was stamped with an
expiration date—one that came much quicker these days.
His heart pounded until it felt like it would explode inside his
chest, but Warren never slowed his pace. He needed to find a place to
hide, a place where he could lay low until it was safe to return to the
sewers. Think! Maybe he could hide in one of the Dumpsters and
hope the smell of rotting garbage would mask his delicious human
scent.
Just as he reached the mouth of the next alley, a wall of gray-
white fog seemed to rise up right out of the sidewalk. It rolled and
thickened, spiraling up toward the sky on three sides of him. Backing
away slowly from the mysterious cloud in front of him, he reached
something of a crossroads. To his left and to his right he could see—
for a short distance anyway—but in front and behind was nothing but
fog.
With a tremendous amount of fear and despair, he realized it was
a maze. Whoever the stranger was, he had gifts, and he was toying
with them. It was all a game, entertainment for the monster. Once he
grew bored with the cat and mouse, it would be curtains for Warren.
He could stand there and wait, face his death like a man, or he
could run. If he was quick enough, maybe he could find a way out of
the maze before his stalker found him. Yeah, and maybe I’ll cut my
balls off and serve them with spaghetti. It was totally unrealistic to
Accepting the Impossible
13
think he was getting out of this shit alive. He’d been lucky in the past,
but it seemed his good fortune had finally run out.
Before he could decide if he should dish up his nut sac with a side
of garlic bread, a dark figure materialized in the fog, coming toward
him at a slow, leisurely gait. The man’s strides were measured,
unhurried, and exceedingly cocky. Though Warren couldn’t see the
guy’s face, his body language made it obvious that he was enjoying
himself, savoring the unconventional chase.
Shaking off the paralysis of fear, Warren spun to the right and ran,
slowing only marginally as he reached the end of the tunnel of fog.
Taking the cleared path to the left, he turned on the speed again, not
daring to waste time or energy by checking over his shoulder.
“Where?” he asked in a panting whisper, frantically searching for
the exit to the trap he was lost in.
Laughter, cold yet amused, echoed around him, sounding as
though it broadcasted from the thick clouds themselves. It was all
around him, steady and unmoving, giving him no indication to where
it had originated. Damn, this bastard was good.
“Turn right,” a voice whispered in his ear, startling him so badly
that he tripped over his feet and went tumbling across the asphalt.
Asphalt? Somehow, he’d wandered off of the sidewalks and into
the street. The bright yellow lines shone up at him like a beacon in the
moonlight, beckoning him to follow. Taking a deep breath to steel his
courage, Warren flipped over to his stomach and pushed up on his
hands and knees. He wasn’t looking forward to what he was about to
do, but it was his best hope at survival.
Crawling forward into the roiling wall of fog, he kept his eyes
trained on the yellow divider line. He wasn’t sure which direction he
was traveling, but he hoped it was the way that would eventually lead
him out of the city. If he was wrong, he’d be trekking right into the
heart of enemy territory.
“You’ll need to move much faster than that,” that deep voice
taunted him.
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Gabrielle Evans
Warren was ashamed to admit that it was a damn sexy voice.
There was something very, very wrong with him. Most likely, it was
meant to be alluring, like a siren’s call, leading him to his doom.
Doing his best to ignore it, he picked up his pace, wincing as his
injured hand landed on a pebble in the road.
The moisture of the fog licked at his skin, making it feel clammy
and cold. Since it was the closest thing he’d had to a shower since the
last rainfall—nearly three months ago—he decided to look at the
silver lining of the situation. It might not wash away the smell or the
grime, but it did feel kind of nice.
“Watching you crawl around like an animal is fun and all, but I’m
fucking bored now. Game over.”
In the next blink, a pair of black boots with thick rubber soles
appeared in front of Warren’s nose at the same moment the fog
disappeared. He was grabbed by the strap of his backpack and jerked
to his feet. Strangely, it made him feel better. At least he wouldn’t die
on his knees like a coward.
Swallowing hard, he lifted his head to peer into the eyes of his
attacker. The moonlight was reflected in the dark pools, giving them
an eerie shine that did nothing to dispel Warren’s fear. He forced
himself to keep looking, though, moving past the man’s eyes to take
in more of his features.
A strong, square jaw, gently sloping nose, and high, proud
cheekbones gave him a dangerously sexy look. As far as last sights
before his slaughter, Warren figured he could have done worse.
Monster or not, the guy was over six feet of gorgeousness. How
unfair was that?
With his thoughts a chaotic mess, it took him a second to realize
that he was still alive. And more than that, this mountain of a man
was looking at him very oddly. It was almost like confused disdain, as
though he didn’t understand what he was seeing but still didn’t like it.
“Can you just rip my throat out and get it over with? It’s been
kind of a shitty night, dude.” Warren didn’t know what made him say
Accepting the Impossible
15
it, and he wanted to smack himself in the forehead once the words
were past his lips.
The guy’s frame rippled from head to toe, but not like a shudder.
It was almost as if his body was trying to change forms, but couldn’t
decide what it wanted to be. Throughout it all, those deep, dark eyes
never left Warren’s face, studying him intently, dissecting him.
“Mine,” the beast growled at him, a primal sound that rolled up
from his chest. Then he snapped his lips together and scowled as his
brow furrowed. He shook his head firmly, stopped, and shook his
head again.
Warren didn’t know what the hell that meant, but he didn’t like
the sound of it. He didn’t want to be anybody’s “mine.” No, no, and
hell no! “Uh, yeah, you can just kill me. I’m cool with that.”
“Mine,” he growled again, more guttural this time, like he was
losing control of his vocal chords.
Warren wished to fuck the stranger would quit saying it, because
every time he did, he just looked more pissed off than the last. It was
clear he didn’t want Warren, so why did he keep staking a claim to
him?
Suddenly, Warren was released and shoved away, while his
attacker glared at him like Warren had made some crack about his
mother. “Oh, fuck no. Absolutely not.”
“I agree. So…” Warren trailed off and jerked a thumb over his
shoulder. “I’ll just be going now.”
“Be quiet.”
“No need to get testy, dude.”
“My name is Drakon, not dude. Now, stop talking.” Drakon
shoved both hands through his short, dark hair and growled, cursing
under his breath. Still grumbling to himself, he picked Warren up,
slung him over one shoulder, and began walking toward the center of
the city.
“Well, I’m Warren. Warren Colfax.”
“I don’t care what your name is.”
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Gabrielle Evans
“I just figured since we’re getting close and all that I should
introduce myself.”
The guy growled in response, clearly wanting to end the
conversation. Unfortunately, Warren babbled when he was scared,
and just then, he was scared out of his goddamn mind.
“Where are you taking me?”
“I thought I told you to shut it.” Drakon grunted at him, hitching
him up a little higher and shaking him more roughly than necessary.
Apparently, he wasn’t big on conversation. Good to know.
Resigned to his fate, Warren rested his elbow in between
Drakon’s shoulder blades and propped his chin in his palm. When
he’d fantasized about a sexy man carrying him off to have his wicked
way with him, this wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind.
Accepting the Impossible
17
Chapter Two
He’d obviously lost his senses. Why else would he be carrying a
human back to the city center over his shoulder rather than roping and
dragging him? Since the New Order had taken over, humans had been
delegated to the working class or in some cases, favored pets. They
were never to be treated as equals.
His opinion of humans wavered between indifference and disdain.
They were weak, arrogant, and so confident in their superiority that
they hadn’t seen the change coming. The paranormals had done a
damn good job of keeping their world a secret, and most humans
didn’t even know they existed outside of books and movies, making
the takeover crazy easy.
Then again, his opinion of the New Order wasn’t much more
favorable. Once the royal families had finally stopped feuding
amongst themselves and banded together, well, there was nothing
stopping them from rising to power.
Drakon was amazed that it had taken them so long to figure out
that they were top on the food chain and to stop hiding in the
shadows. He couldn’t condone their methods, though, even if the
entire takeover had actually been one huge accident.
“Where are we going?”
“Stop talking,” Drakon growled and reached up to swat the man
on the ass. What a nice ass it was, too, round, firm, and the perfect
handful.
“What did you do to the others?” Warren demanded, refusing to
keep his trap shut.
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Gabrielle Evans
Drakon grumbled under his breath as he lowered Warren to his
feet and grabbed him around the elbow, forcing him to walk at his
side. “They’ll be taken to where they belong.”
“Where exactly is that?”
“Do you ever shut up?”
“No.” Warren tried to pull away but gave up quickly when
Drakon tightened his grip. “You’re probably going to kill me anyway.
I might as well say what I want while I have the chance.”
“If I was going to kill you, I would have done it back on the
street.”
There was still a need for workers to do jobs that the New Order
didn’t feel like doing themselves, and humans were fairly valuable as
a general rule. Cleaning, landscaping, cooking, entertainment, and
even blood slaves were always in high demand.
“Look, I know you can catch me if I run. I’m not stupid, so just let
go.”
Going against his better judgment, Drakon hesitated only briefly
before releasing Warren’s arm and allowing him to walk on his own.
What the hell had gotten into him? He didn’t give in to the demands
or requests of humans—even if that human happened to be his mate.
That was another thing eating away at him. Despite what those
sappy romance movies liked to spout, it was the very rare occasion
when a supe mated a human. Under the new rule, it was utterly
unheard of. So, why the fuck had he drawn the short straw?
Warren was a gorgeous specimen for a mortal. Drakon had to
admit that much. Long, wavy, blond hair, stunning, deep brown eyes,
and over five and half feet of long, lean, muscles rounded out a very
attractive package. Add to that, he had the most mouthwatering scent,
easily permeating through the stench of the sewers.
“If the others are already on their way to the city, does that mean
that you’re not alone?”
“I’m not alone,” Drakon answered shortly, still seething over the
predicament he found himself in.
Accepting the Impossible
19
Warren was his. Whether he wanted the guy or not, there was
already a possessive, territorial instinct rising up in him that he didn’t
even know he harbored. The protectiveness he’d heard others speak
about was absent, or hadn’t manifested itself yet, but he was definitely
feeling like a little boy with a new toy and had no desire to share with
anyone.
Unfortunately, he knew exactly what would happen to someone
who looked like Warren. Most paranormals were highly sexual
beings, and Warren would definitely have everyone in a frenzy the
minute he entered the city. Under different circumstances, Drakon
wouldn’t give a damn, but he didn’t think his new possessiveness
could handle watching everyone clambering to get at what belonged
to him.
Damn it! This could not be happening to him. Sure, some of the
wealthier paranormals kept humans as pets, but they didn’t mate
them. Maybe he should let the man go. The law stated that if any
rogue humans were captured that they were to be brought to the city
immediately, but Drakon would rather take his chances that no one
knew he’d actually caught up with Warren.
Nothing good would come from him presenting the runt as his
mate. Absolutely nothing.
“Run,” he barked out abruptly. “Don’t look back, and I’ll pretend
like I never saw you.”
“Really?” Warren stopped in his tracks and tilted his head to the
side as he hitched his pack up higher on his shoulders. “Just like that?
Why should I believe you?”
“You’ve got three seconds before I change my mind. Now move.”
Thank mercy Warren didn’t argue with him again. Spinning
around with a crunch of sand and loose pebbles beneath his boots, he
took off at a sprint, ducking into the first alley he came to and out of
sight. Never once did he look back, proving his survival instincts were
well intact.
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Gabrielle Evans
Breathing a sigh of relief, Drakon rubbed at the back of his neck
as he continued his trek back to his house in the center of the city. If
he was lucky, he could avoid checking in with his superior until his
next shift, giving him plenty of time to come up with a suitable
explanation as to why he’d been gone so long and returned empty
handed. He could only hope the other sentries and his commanding
officer would believe that Warren had escaped him.
Enforcing his suspicion that it was bound to be a shitty night for
him, not a dozen steps down the street, Warren’s cry rent through the
night, a strangled mixture of surprise and fear. Knowing he should
ignore it and actually accomplishing the task were two very separate
things. The second proved too much for Drakon.
“Son of a bitch,” he groused to himself, even as he turned and
jogged back down the street in the direction of the noise.
He’d been hoping to avoid the horrible protective instinct he’d
heard so much about, but obviously, fate had it out for him. The
sound of his mate in distress had pierced him right in the chest,
bringing his beast to the forefront—no matter how hard he tried to
fight it. Apparently, his life was about to become a whole lot more
interesting.
Dipping into the same alley he’d seen Warren disappear through,
it didn’t take him long to find out where all the commotion was
coming from. “Rustin, drop the human.”
The huge werewolf looked up at him with a feral grin as he shook
Warren around like a ragdoll by his backpack. “Look what I found.”
“Yeah, that’s great. Now put him down.”
“Fuck off, Rhinegold,” the wolf said dismissively, addressing
Drakon by his surname. “You know the rules. I found this one first.”
“Actually, you didn’t.”
“Well, it’s not my problem if you can’t hold on to your
playthings.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips while he practically
eye-fucked Warren right there in the alleyway. “He’s mine now.”
Accepting the Impossible
21
Something foreign and unwanted snapped inside Drakon, draining
every ounce of self-control he possessed. Launching himself across
the asphalt, he reached his mate in two strides, jerking him out of
Rustin’s grasp, and pushing Warren behind him. “He’s mine!”
“Yes,” Warren hurried to agree as he pressed up against Drakon’s
back and peeked around his arm. “You heard the guy. I’m Drakon’s
pet.”
Drakon was surprised by Warren’s words, but managed to keep
his expression neutral. “Aren’t you supposed to be escorting the
rogues back to the city?” Squaring his shoulders, he faced off with the
other sentry, daring the werewolf to challenge him. “My pet is not
your concern. Go do your fucking job.”
It was several tense moments before Rustin finally grunted at him
and stomped away, leaving Drakon alone once again with his mate.
Standing perfectly still with Warren still pressed against his back, he
waited and listened for the sound of crunching footsteps to fade away.
Secure in his belief that Rustin was returning to the city, he finally
let out the breath he’d been holding and whirled around to point his
finger in Warren’s face. “This does not mean I like you.”
Instead of looking fearful or mutinous, Warren did the strangest
thing. He smiled—actually freaking smiled. “Thank you, Drakon. I’ll
try not to get caught again.”
Oh, but it was too late for that. While it had helped them out of an
immediate jam, by staking a claim to Warren, he had opened a can of
worms that he was going to regret. By publicly—even if it was only
to one person—announcing that the human belonged to him, he was
now fully responsible for the guy.
Drakon led a fairly simplistic life. He did his job. He watched a lot
of SportsCenter. When his dick was hard, he fucked, and that was
exactly how he liked it. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to piss off the
universe, but someone was out to screw him six ways from Sunday.
“You can’t go.”
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Gabrielle Evans
To his credit, Warren didn’t try to argue or plead but simply
appeared resigned to his fate. “I had a feeling you were going to say
that.”
Well, at least one of them had accepted their predicament, because
on the inside, Drakon was still fuming that he’d managed to land
himself in this mess. What the hell was he going to do with a mortal?
Okay, he could think of several things he’d like to do with this
particular mortal that involved no clothing and several flat surfaces.
Too bad his sexual attraction to the guy only made the whole situation
that much worse.
“Lead the way, Master.” Warren had a grin on his face that
couldn’t mean anything good. “I’ll stick close this time.”
“Why aren’t you afraid?”
“I’m your pet,” Warren answered with a shit-eating grin. “I know
how these things work. You have to take care of me now, which
makes me one of the safest people in town.”
“You do know that we sell and trade pets, right?” Drakon arched
an eyebrow at his new ward and crossed his arms over his chest.
The blood drained from Warren’s face, and his mouth fell open in
a little O. Apparently, he didn’t know as much as he thought he did.
What Drakon didn’t expect, however, was the way the forlorn
expression made his chest constrict uncomfortably. What was it about
this creature that piqued his interest and had him abandoning
everything he’d ever believed about the race?
“Will you at least feed me? I’m starving.”
The little blond had a quiet courage that Drakon couldn’t help but
respect. He couldn’t stand the way some of Warren’s kind sniveled
and begged. Worse were the ones who constantly cried.
Just thinking about those tears made his nose curl in distaste,
especially since he didn’t feel they were treated that badly. Hell, some
of them had even volunteered for their jobs.
It wasn’t as though the New Order whipped them and kept them
in chains. They were given shelter, food, and paid a wage for the
Accepting the Impossible
23
work they did according to the type of service they provided. They
were even offered every other weekend off to do as they pleased,
under careful supervision, of course.
Drakon had no intentions of selling, trading, or sharing Warren
with anyone, but his mate didn’t need to know that. If he thought
there was even a chance that could happen to him, maybe it would
keep him in line, because Drakon didn’t have the patience to be a
fulltime babysitter.
“Come on, pet,” he said, emphasizing the last word the same way
Warren had drawn out Master. Having a live-in booty call might
actually be entertaining for a while. “I’ll feed you and get you clean,
because there is no way you are staying in my house with that
stench.”
A cute blush crept up Warren’s cheeks, and he ducked his head,
scuffing a toe across the gravel and debris on the ground. “I wouldn’t
say no to a hot shower.” He pulled at his grimy shirt and wrinkled his
tiny nose. “New clothes would be nice,” he added under his breath.
Walking back toward the street, Drakon kept an eye on Warren in
his peripheral vision. Yes, the guy needed something decent to wear,
but it would be on Drakon’s terms, not his. “Actually, I think I prefer
my new pet to go naked.”
The looked he received in return was so comical that he almost
lost his composure, only choking back his laughter at the last second.
Maybe this wasn’t going to be all bad, after all.
* * * *
The growl that had scared the shit out of him upon first hearing it,
now sounded like music to Warren’s ears. No matter what Drakon
said, he seriously doubted the guy was going to pass him around like
a photo at a family reunion. There was too much possessiveness in his
captor’s tone, and every ounce of it was direction toward Warren.
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Gabrielle Evans
No, he didn’t understand what it meant, but he wasn’t going to
question it, either. It wasn’t his ideal choice in occupation, but as a
pet, at least he’d be fed, sheltered, and protected from the others.
What had finally convinced him to travel down that road was the
knowledge that Drakon was his ticket into the city, and hopefully,
finding his brother. Besides, monster or not, Drakon was very easy on
the eyes, and it had been too long since Warren had felt any kind of
intimate contact.
Dropping his chin to his chest, he groaned at his stupidity as he
trudged along behind his new Master. What the hell was wrong with
him? Was he seriously contemplating having sex with this man? Not
only was the answer yes, but he realized he was actually looking
forward to it.
In his defense, or maybe because his cock was doing all the
thinking for him, Drakon was the first of the New Order he’d actually
met. The experience had been terrifying at first, but something in the
way Drakon spoke to him and treated him had Warren rethinking
everything he knew about the paranormals.
While he’d initially thought they were all the same kind of
soulless monsters in different skins, maybe they were more like
humans than he’d originally thought. Some good, some bad, but they
were all just trying to survive by any means necessary.
That didn’t mean he trusted his new companion implicitly,
however. Maybe he hadn’t actually met any of Drakon’s kind face-to-
face, but he’d seen what they’d done. He’d seen the chaos and
destruction they left in their wake.
He hadn’t actually been inside the city they were trekking to since
the takeover, but he’d seen other towns in the region. Watching from
the outskirts, concealed in shadows, he’d witness firsthand what the
paranormals were capable of, and he had no intentions of falling
blindly into that trap.
If it would keep his ass alive until he could devise a plan to rescue
Kennedy and get them to the other side of the mountains, though,
Accepting the Impossible
25
he’d play along. Hell, he’d be the best damn pet, coveted by everyone
but belonging only to Drakon.
Of course, it could all backfire and blow up in spectacular fashion,
but considering recent events, it was the best plan he had. Otherwise,
he was back to scraping out a meager existence on his own, hiding out
in sewers and most likely succumbing to starvation sooner rather than
later. Plus, the next time he was caught out in the city, his captor
might not be as lenient as the man currently walking beside him.
“Are you bleeding?”
Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Warren jerked his head up in
time to see Drakon’s nostrils flare as he sniffed at the air. Lifting his
injured hand with the dirty strip of cloth wrapped around it, Warren
winced and bobbed his head. “Yeah, I cut it right before we left for
the raid.”
“Let’s see it.” Stopping in the middle of the street, Drakon curled
his long fingers around Warren’s wrist and used his free hand to
unwrap the makeshift bandage. He studied the wound for a long time,
even running his forefinger around the red, swollen flesh along the
side of the cut. “This looks infected.”
Considering he had nothing to treat it with, he’d cut it on a rusty,
grime-coated ladder, and then dressed it with a shirt he’d been
wearing for nearly a month, Warren wasn’t surprised. “It’ll be fine. I
just need to clean it.”
Drakon grunted and released Warren’s hand. “Every vampire in
the city is going to smell the blood.”
“There’s not much I can do about that, now is there?” Warren
snapped. It had been a long night, and he was tired, hungry, and
hurting. Did Drakon really think he hadn’t thought about all the
consequences the simple scrape would bring about for him? It wasn’t
like he could just trot his happy ass into an emergency room, though.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Drakon mumbled a split second
before inch long canines lengthened from his gums. Lifting his middle
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Gabrielle Evans
finger to his mouth, he pressed it hard against one razor-sharp fang
until blood welled up and dripped down his digit.
Then he held his other hand out for Warren’s wrist again,
wiggling his fingers in a demanding, impatient way until he finally
surrendered. Mashing on the pad of his finger with his thumb to
encourage the blood flow, he ran the bleeding appendage over the cut
on Warren’s palm, smearing the crimson substance around in a
circular pattern.
A warm, tingling began around the outer edges of the wound and
spread through Warren’s hand and halfway up his arm. Then right
before his eyes, the swelling vanished, the redness dissipated, and the
skin began to knit itself back together.
“How did you do that?”
“Secrets of the trade,” Drakon answered with a teasing lilt to his
tone. “We need to keep moving, though. This is not somewhere you
want to be caught out after curfew.”
“Curfew?”
“Gods, you really are clueless.” The amusement was gone from
his voice, and Drakon just sounded tired and exasperated. “All of you
humans are the same, selfish, egotistical, and so full of hatred for
things you don’t understand.”
“You hate humans,” Warren countered, stepping closer to Drakon
in a confrontational manner. “Aren’t you being kind of hypocritical?”
“No,” Drakon responded flatly. “I’ve watched your kind destroy
themselves, each other, and everything around them for almost four
hundred years. Trust me, I know a lot more about you than you do
about me.”
It was kind of hard to argue with that logic, but it didn’t answer
his original question. “What does my ignorance and self-destructive
qualities have to do with curfew?”
“The curfew isn’t for humans, Warren. It’s to protect us from
you.”
Accepting the Impossible
27
Instead of opening his mouth and proving the ignorance he was
being accused of, Warren decided to just let it go. He had no weapons
to fight against the New Order. What did they possibly think humans
could do to them in the darkness of night?
Though he’d been blind to the existence of the supernatural world
before the takeover, he was sure there were some who’d been privy to
the information. How many vampires, werewolves, shifters, and the
like had been murdered before everything had gone to hell? More
importantly, how had it been accomplished? There had to be some
way to fight back.
The warning about curfew could be just a bunch of hoopla and
propaganda to keep him pacified, but somehow, he doubted it. Drakon
didn’t seem like the type of man who would need to resort to lies and
manipulation to get what he wanted. So, where did that leave Warren?
With a lot of thinking and reevaluating to do.
“Not what you expected, huh?”
Lost in contemplation, Warren hadn’t even realized that they’d
arrived at their destination. It wasn’t exactly in the center of the city,
but close enough to count, he supposed. A split-level with light blue
siding and white trim faced him from center of the cul-de-sac. The
large, white wooden porch was a nice touch and appeared inviting to
warm nights sipping cocktails on the swing.
“No, it’s not what I expected.” At that point, it was just too much
work to lie. What would it accomplish, anyway? Still, it wasn’t as
though he would just come out and say that he envisioned all supes to
live in dungeons or crypts with black drapes and creepy spiderwebs.
“Take your clothes off and put them in that trash bin over there.”
Drakon pointed to the large, black receptacle near the curb.
“Excuse me?”
“I wasn’t fuckin’ with you, Warren. You’re not bringing those
rank clothes into my house. Now, take ’em off.” His arms crossed
over his broad, muscular chest in a no-nonsense gesture. “I’m
waiting.”
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Gabrielle Evans
“I’m getting a shower, right?”
Drakon smirked cockily and bobbed his head with a wicked gleam
in his eye. “I’ll bathe you myself, pet.”
Stripping faster than he ever had in his life, Warren shoved his
clothes into the trash can, grabbed his backpack, and bounced up on
the porch with his cock and balls swaying freely between his thighs.
“Well, what are we waiting for?”
Accepting the Impossible
29
Chapter Three
In only the hour since he’d met Warren, Drakon’s life had been
turned upside down, and he doubted things would settle back to
normal for some time to come. Strangely, he looked forward to
having the man in his home. It had been a long time since he’d cared
about anything, and though a mortal wouldn’t have been his first
choice, he decided to just roll with it.
“You seem perkier.”
“You aren’t going to kill me. You’re not going to let anyone else
kill me. I get to have a shower and food.” Warren dipped his head and
peeked up shyly through his long, pale lashes. “You’re really hot for a
werewolf.”
“I’m not a werewolf,” Drakon answered gruffly, unimpressed
with being compared to the grunts of their world. “I guess you’re
attractive enough for a human.”
“Then what are you? Not a vampire,” Warren said with conviction
as they entered the house and climbed the stairs toward the kitchen.
“They’re a lot paler than you are.”
“Rakshasa.”
Warren tilted his head to the side with a quizzical expression on
his face. “Umm, bless you?”
A deep, quiet chuckle started in his belly and worked its way up
through Drakon’s lips. The sound was raspy, a little rusty from lack of
use, but it felt good. Warren was just too damn cute for his own good,
and the longer Drakon was around him, the more he found himself
liking the guy.
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Gabrielle Evans
It wasn’t supposed to happen, and certainly not so quickly. Maybe
he was just horny. Or maybe it had something to do with that shitty,
fated bond between mates. Whatever was happening, he could feel
himself growing more attached, more protective by the second. If
someone was to come in and try to take Warren from him, he knew
without doubt that it would end in bloodshed.
Motherfucker!
“So, what is this rockashasha thing?”
Drakon couldn’t stop laughing. Where the hell had this guy come
from? And how had someone this full of life survived underground
for so long? More importantly, how was he able to charm Drakon so
easily when his usual personality was one step above a grizzly bear?
“Are you a witch?”
“Really?” Laughter echoed around the kitchen and down the
hallway. “No way,” Warren finally answered. “Just a regular, frail,
superficial, arrogant, weak human.”
Yes, it was true that Drakon believed those things about the
majority of mortals, but he was beginning to form a much different
opinion of Warren Colfax. He’d seen the fear in his mate’s eyes,
smelled the acrid scent of terror wafting off him when they’d first met
back near the grocer.
Yet the man hadn’t cowered or begged. He talked far too much for
Drakon’s liking, but they’d work on that. On the other hand, he
actually listened. When Drakon spoke, he could see the careful
consideration in Warren’s eyes. He was unlike any other being—
human or otherwise—that Drakon had ever met. Color me surprised.
“So, are you going to tell me what a rock-a-doodle is?”
“Rakshasa. I’m a shape-changer—”
“So, you’re a shifter,” Warren interrupted as he followed Drakon
down the hall toward his bedroom.
“No. Shape-shifters can change into only one specific animal. A
shape-changer is more like a skinwalker. We can shift into anything
we want.” Why was he explaining all of this, anyway? Whatever. It
Accepting the Impossible
31
wasn’t like he had anything better to do at the moment, and there was
no way Warren could use the information against him.
“Wicked cool,” Warren breathed, his eyes lighting up with
appropriate awe and enthusiasm. “What about that fog thing back
there? Did you do that?”
Leading his mate into his private bath, Drakon turned on the
shower and adjusted the temperature while he continued his tutorial
on Paranormals 101. “That would be me. Not only can I shape change
into whatever I want, but I can change the reality around me into
anything as well.”
“Your blood heals.” Holding up his hand, Warren turned the palm
toward Drakon. “Is that another one of your powers or can all supes
do it?”
“Why are you so curious?”
Warren gave him a meaningful look, meeting his gaze head on.
“Know thy enemy, right? So, are we done talking now?”
“Not all, but some,” he said, answering Warren’s original
question. The guy wasn’t leaving his sight. Who the hell was he going
to tell Drakon’s secrets to? “Other than myself, the elves can heal
humans with their blood and fairies with their tears.”
That last part wasn’t strictly true. Okay, it was a flat out lie.
Warren kind of had it coming after his “enemy” comment, however.
“What about vampires?”
Drakon snorted and rolled his eyes as he motioned Warren into
the shower. “Don’t believe everything you’ve seen in movies.
Vampires are dead. They can’t make their own blood anymore, so
they have to survive off the blood of living things. How the hell could
their blood heal anything?”
Again, it wasn’t the complete truth. Vampires really couldn’t
produce their own blood. They were very much alive, though, and he
was sure they’d like to stay that way. With the king of the region
being a vampire, he doubted the guy would be too pleased to find out
Drakon was giving away secrets of how to kill them.
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Gabrielle Evans
Stepping into the shower stall, Warren moaned like a high-paid
hooker when the warm water washed down his chest and over his abs.
“I guess that makes sense. I always thought it was stupid that a dead
guy’s blood could magically heal you and give you super strength.
Damn Hollywood and their inaccurate, though entertaining, cinematic
masterpieces.”
He started to hum after that, though he sounded distracted, and the
way his body glistened wetly in the overhead light was distracting
Drakon as well. “Even if I was kidnapped and turned into a pet, this
shower is seriously worth it.”
Warren was more than just a pet, but Drakon didn’t know if he
was quite ready to reveal that little bit just yet. To blame his growing
attraction on a mating bond felt like a copout, and it would give the
smaller man more power than Drakon was ready for him to have. No,
it was better if he kept that little piece of information to himself for a
while longer.
“You guys have mates like animals in the wild, right? Or is that
just more Hollywood regurgitation?”
Well, shit! “Yes.”
Warren was quiet for a moment while he soaped his body and
squirmed under the steaming spray of water. “Well, which is it? Yes
it’s right? Or yes, it’s wrong?”
“Some of us have mates,” Drakon answered tightly.
“Is that what all the growling and ‘mine’ business was about? Am
I your mate? Is that why I’m not really scared of you?”
“You ask a lot of questions.” Talking was overrated, and Drakon
was itching to get his hands on all that naked, gleaming skin. More
importantly, he was ready to be finished with the questions he had no
intentions of answering—not yet anyway.
“And you deflect a lot.”
That fiery attitude was a total turn-on, and Drakon’s cock
hardened rapidly, swelling to the point of pain. Defiance didn’t
normally get his motor going, but it seemed to be doing the trick for
Accepting the Impossible
33
him now. Things were changing faster than he was comfortable with,
and it was time to regain some control.
Taking his time, Drakon stripped out of his clothes, making sure
Warren was watching his every movement through the open doorway
of the shower. His mate’s heartbeat sped, easy to hear over the thrum
of the shower with Drakon’s heightened senses. The scent of arousal
saturated the air, pouring off of Warren like a palpable force that
blanketed Drakon and spiked his own lust.
Those warm, brown eyes grew darker and heavy-lidded as they
raked over Drakon in an intimate caress. With each lingering look,
Warren’s breathing accelerated, coming in fast, shallow pants through
his parted lips. When the feisty imp finally met his gaze, those long
legs spread slightly, and Warren slipped a hand down his sudsy torso
to boldly grip the hard, thick cock jutting from his groin.
His lean muscles were toned and well-defined, flexing or
lengthening in all the right places, but months of hiding out in the
sewers had taken its toll on Warren’s body. He wasn’t grossly skinny,
but his wiry frame could benefit from a few good meals.
All of these observations registered only in the periphery of his
brain, however, since the majority of his focus was firmly on the
nimble fingers that stroked Warren’s cock from base to tip. Controlled
and measured, the slow glides were obviously meant to tease and
tempt. Drakon still wasn’t sure how he felt about this strange human
other than “fuck, now, yes, please,” but that was enough for the
moment.
“Turn around and press your palms flat to the wall,” he ordered as
he stepped into the shower stall behind his mate and slid the glass
door closed. If Warren wanted to play, Drakon would play. It would
be on his terms, and he would be fully in control, though.
Drakon liked rules. The sooner he set his own rules in place for
Warren, the quicker the training would go for his mate to become a
proper pet. A slight twinge of guilt flittered through him while his
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Gabrielle Evans
subconscious berated him for thinking of his mate in such terms.
Mates were to be treated with honor—even if they were human.
It couldn’t be helped, though. Life had certainly improved for
Drakon since the New Order, but unless claimed and registered as a
pet, Warren wouldn’t be safe from the others in the city. Gods above,
how the hell did he get himself into this shit?
He didn’t have the time or patience for a human, a mate, a pet, or
anything else for that matter. Yet his beast refused to relinquish
Warren, fighting Drakon at every turn as he tried to come up with
some way to fix what he’d fucked up by bringing the man home with
him.
“Is something wrong?”
Warren’s spine arched in a beautiful curve that put his pert ass on
clear display. His palms were pressed against the black-and-white
tiles, just as he’d been instructed, and he peeked over his shoulder
with his eyebrows drawn together.
“Head down,” Drakon directed, popping one rounded butt cheek
in reprimand. Could he do this? No matter how he felt about the
human race, Warren was his mate. It’s for his own good.
Warren dropped his head immediately, resting his chin against his
chest while holding perfectly still. The eagerness in the submissive
gesture wasn’t lost on Drakon, and it made his chest vibrate with a
rumbling purr. “Good, pet.”
A visible shiver rolled down Warren’s back, and the sweetest
moan of surrender echoed around them. “I want to please you. I just
don’t understand why. Why am I not afraid of you?”
“Because you’re mine,” Drakon whispered into his mate’s ear as
he molded himself to the long line of Warren’s back. “You feel it,
Warren. That animalistic part of you that humans have tried so hard to
bury is scratching at the surface, clawing at your instincts.”
“I feel it,” Warren confirmed, wiggling his backside against
Drakon’s throbbing cock. “You left out one little detail, though.”
Accepting the Impossible
35
The friction on his length was driving him out of his mind and
making it increasingly difficult to follow along. “What detail is that?”
“You’re mine, too, Drakon Rhinegold.”
* * * *
There was no way to explain how he knew it, but Warren felt the
conviction of his statement right down to his soul. As he belonged to
Drakon, the man also belonged to him. Something told him he’d been
right on the money with his earlier question about mates, and that in
this new world he found himself in, the connection was much deeper
and more complicated than with regular animals.
Some invisible line drew him to this dark stranger, and a peaceful
feeling of security settled over him. While his brain was lust-addled,
he was fully in control of his free will. It wasn’t like hypnosis or
another form of mind control. He could put a stop to everything with
one word, and he was fairly certain that Drakon would respect his
wishes.
“Stop.” What he really wanted was to beg for more, but with
everything suddenly so confusing, Warren needed reassurance that he
wasn’t being manipulated in some way that he couldn’t fight against.
As he’d predicted, Drakon’s hands disappeared from his hips, and
he took two steps back until there was no longer any physical contact
between them. “I’m not going to force myself on you, Warren.
Relax.”
“I was pretty sure I knew that. I just wanted to test the theory.”
“And you wanted to be sure that you were capable of saying no,
that I wasn’t compelling you.”
“Exactly.”
“Are you satisfied with your answer?”
“Yep. Now get over here and fuck me.” He had his free will—
kind of—and a gorgeous, naked man willing and able to make all his
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Gabrielle Evans
secret fantasies come true. The rest of it…well, he’d worry about that
later.
A hard, stinging swat landed on his ass, not playful like the last,
and it made him yelp. “Rule one,” Drakon practically growled at him.
“You do not give orders. You follow them. Understood?”
“Yeah,” Warren mumbled petulantly as he rubbed at his burning
skin.
His hand was batted away and another smack met his ass again.
“Rule two. You will address me as Master unless I tell you otherwise.
Now, do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
Those hard, callused hands became surprisingly tender as they
traveled over Warren’s hips and up his ribcage. “When we’re
together, when we’re alone, you can call me Drakon.” Plump, moist
lips nibbled at the back of his neck, sending electrical currents of
pleasure down his spine. “When we’re in public, it is always Master.”
“Here, I’m your mate.” Warren nodded firmly, finally grasping
where this lesson was going. “Outside, I’m your pet.”
“It’s for your safety as well as mine, priya.”
Words were lost after that when two well-slicked fingers skimmed
along Warren’s crease and prodded against his clenching hole. He
didn’t know where Drakon had secured the lube from, and he didn’t
really care. He was much too busy comparing the size of his soon-to-
be lover’s massive cock versus the last time he’d engaged in any type
of sexual activity.
His calculations could only equal one thing. It’s going to hurt.
“Easy, Warren,” Drakon murmured coaxingly while rubbing his
palm in soothing circles over Warren’s clenching stomach. “Relax.”
Easier said than done, but Warren wasn’t about to call a halt to
their coupling over something as insignificant as a little pain. At only
twenty-four, there hadn’t been a plethora of men parading through his
bedroom, so his experience was sadly lacking.
Accepting the Impossible
37
He didn’t think it was supposed to hurt, but then again, what did
he know? It definitely hadn’t been fireworks and euphoria the other
times he’d tried it. Maybe it was like riding a bicycle and got better
with practice. Maybe he was doing it wrong.
Either way, Warren was no quitter, and he desperately wanted to
know what all the hype was about. Other people seemed to enjoy it.
Hell, there were tons of people who made a living from having sex
with random strangers. Some even did it on camera.
The water cut off abruptly, and Warren went stiff as a board,
fearful that some part of his internal debate had been overheard by
Drakon. If the last hour had proven anything to him, it was that he
didn’t know nearly as much about the paranormal world as he
thought. For all he knew, every supe had the gift of telepathy.
“Come with me.” The words weren’t spoken harshly, but it was
clear that Drakon expected his summons to be obeyed.
“Well, I fucked that up in record time.”
Surprisingly, Drakon laughed at him. “You didn’t do anything
wrong, but whatever is drawing me to you, won’t let me hurt you, not
even unintentionally. We’ll try again when you’re less nervous.”
Taking the towel Drakon held out to him, Warren dried quickly,
feeling like the biggest loser on the planet. “Isn’t it supposed to hurt?”
Well, that had apparently been the wrong question to ask.
Drakon’s features darkened, his eyes narrowed, and his huge hands
curled into fists at his sides. “The fact that you believe that only
proves that your bed partners have been human. Even the pleasure
slaves in the city are treated with kindness and respect. Never
selfishly. Never with cruelty.”
“Kind of you, considering they don’t have a choice,” Warren bit
out, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
“You shouldn’t make accusations about things you don’t
understand. Yes, we call them pleasure slaves, but they aren’t raped,
if that’s what you’re getting at. They come of their own accord and
are paid generously for their talents, both monetarily and physically.”
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Gabrielle Evans
“And I’m sure if they said no, you’d just let them go on their
merry way.”
“Yes,” Drakon replied with a guttural edge to his tone. “If they
want to leave, they will be placed in a different job.”
“They’re still slaves!” Warren yelled. “We’re all just living,
breathing Barbie dolls to you!”
Whatever had possessed him to strip naked and offer his ass up to
this man was fading rapidly. Perhaps things weren’t exactly as he
thought they were, but the mere idea of his brother being subjected to
life as a pleasure slave was enough to send a surge of fury through
him.
“Enough!” Drakon roared, slamming his fist into the wall beside
him with enough force to shake the ground under Warren’s feet.
“No!” Warren yelled right back, refusing to give into his fear,
although his entire frame was trembling. “What makes you any better
than us? What gives you the right to make all the rules?”
They stared at each other for a long time, breathily heavily, but
neither speaking a word. Warren couldn’t pinpoint exactly what
happened, but suddenly, something snapped, propelling him forward
into Drakon’s arms where he clutched at the man like a lifeline.
“Shh, priya,” Drakon whispered, stroking Warren’s damp locks.
“The world is different now, and we just have to learn to adjust.”
The way he said it led Warren to believe that Drakon had been
doing his own adjusting since the rise of the New Order. There was
definitely a story there, and one that could possibly be beneficial to
him. Just then, he was too drained to dwell on it.
“Can I sleep now?”
In answer, strong arms scooped him off his feet, and Drakon
carried him to an enormous king-size bed where he deposited him into
the center of the mattress. “Get some rest, Warren. Tomorrow is
going to be a busy day,” Drakon said as he turned to leave.
Accepting the Impossible
39
The bed was so soft, so warm, and it offered the first measure of
safety he’d known in months, but Warren didn’t want to be alone.
“Drakon?”
“Yes?”
“Stay?”
The bed dipped beside him after only a slight pause, and Warren
eagerly maneuvered himself closer, curling against Drakon’s chest
like a kitten seeking affection. “Thank you.”
Drakon seemed tense at first, holding himself rigidly as though he
wasn’t sure what to make of Warren’s behavior. Eventually he
relaxed, though, his breathing slowed, and he even draped one arm
over Warren’s hip.
Exhaustion caught up with him, and Warren yawned as he rubbed
his cheek over Drakon’s chest. Moments later, Warren finally drifted
off, finding sleep and comfort in the arms of the enemy.
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Gabrielle Evans
Chapter Four
Coming awake to glorious, moist heat wrapped around the head of
his cock, Drakon groaned and fisted both hands in his mate’s silky
hair. “And good morning to you, pet.”
Warren’s muffled response sent vibrations along Drakon’s length
and caused those plush lips to stretch taut around his shaft. One hand
cradled his balls, rolling them gently inside his tightening sac. The
other fisted the base of his cock and squeezed rhythmically, while
Warren bathed the spongy crown in smooth, wet circles with his
tongue.
Sunlight spilled into the room through the part in the curtains,
glimmering off Warren’s bare, golden skin and giving him an
otherworldly beauty. His eyes locked with Drakon’s, full of fire and
untamed lust, while his swollen lips dragged up and down the rock-
hard flesh in his mouth.
Whatever epiphany he’d had during the night, Drakon was
reaping the benefits, and wild horses couldn’t drag a complaint from
him. Remembering the conversation about Warren’s previous forays
into sex doused some of his ardor, but he recovered quickly with a
new course of action.
Reaching blindly for the nightstand, he rummaged around in the
drawer until his searching fingers found the small, plastic bottle
nestled in the front corner. “Flip around here, priya.”
Releasing Drakon’s dick, Warren popped up with his head tipped
to the side. “What does that mean?”
Accepting the Impossible
41
“It’s Sanskrit, a general endearment meaning dear.” Drakon
hadn’t even realized he’d been saying it until his mate pointed it out
to him. “Now, come here.”
Still, Warren hesitated. “What do I do?”
Was the guy serious? He certainly looked like it. While the
innocence was refreshing as well as endearing, a rush of anger rolled
through Drakon as he started putting all the pieces together. This
wasn’t Warren’s first time, and he clearly had expectations.
Unfortunately, none of them seemed to be good.
Pushing up to a sitting position, he grabbed Warren around the
waist and pulled the smaller man into his lap so that he straddled
Drakon’s thighs. “You are not allowed to speak unless I ask you a
direct question. Do you remember how you should answer?”
“Yes, Master,” Warren responded immediately with a self-
satisfied grin.
“When I tell you to do something, I expect you do it without
argument. In return, I promise to never ask you to do something that
will hurt you or humiliate you. Do you understand so far?”
“Yes, Master.” The agreement wasn’t as forthcoming this time,
however.
“Is there something you want to ask?”
“What if it does hurt?”
“You tell me, and everything stops. I’m not going to let that
happen, though.”
Warren looked appeased by the answer. His muscles relaxed
marginally, his expression softened, and some of the fire returned to
his eyes. “One more?”
Drakon chuckled in spite of himself as he kneaded the flesh
around Warren’s hips. “Go on, then.”
“Is kissing okay?”
“Kissing is always okay, but in the city, you should always wait
for me to initiate it.”
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Gabrielle Evans
“What about right here?” Warren wiggled a little closer, causing
his hard cock to rub against Drakon’s.
Giving Warren that small measure of control wasn’t a big deal,
but Drakon worried he’d forget while they were in public. He really
wasn’t any good at this Master stuff, but it was in both of their interest
for him to get his mind wrapped around it.
Cradling Warren’s face in both hands, he pulled the enchanting
creature to him, pillowing their lips together tenderly, but with a
firmness that left no doubt to who was in charge. The kiss ignited into
a firestorm of passion, desire, and need at once, and it was difficult to
decide which one of them moaned louder.
Their tongues met, tangled, swirled, and danced with a familiarity
of longtime lovers. It was just a ruse fabricated by the mating bond,
but it felt so right that Drakon decided to go with it and see where it
led him. Winding both arms around Warren’s waist, he rolled him to
his back, insinuating himself between those long, slender legs.
Breaking the kiss only long enough to suck in much-needed
oxygen, Drakon recaptured his mate’s mouth with renewed vigor as
he popped the cap open on the bottle of lubricant. Distracting Warren
by licking, sucking, and nibbling along the delicate curve of his
throat, he slipped his gel-coated fingers between their damp bodies,
zeroing in on his lover’s fluttering entrance.
Unlike the previous night, Warren seemed eager rather than
apprehensive, rocking his hips and pressing his ass against Drakon’s
hand. Taking it as the okay to continue, Drakon eased in just the tip of
his forefinger, pausing at the first knuckle to check for any signs of
discomfort.
The uninhibited moans pouring from Warren’s lips had him
fighting for control as he carefully inserted the rest of the digit into his
mate’s snug channel. “Does this hurt, priya?”
“No,” Warren answered through panting breath. “It feels
amazing.”
Accepting the Impossible
43
Drakon still wanted to find the humans who’d treated his mate so
poorly and rip their entrails out through their rectums, but he had
more important things to worry about just then. “Good.”
He spent much more time stretching and preparing Warren than
he normally would with someone else, but the strange protectiveness
he’d felt before had only intensified while he slept. Hell, he hadn’t
even known he was capable of such tenderness, and maybe he hadn’t
been before Warren came into his life.
Whatever the reason, he couldn’t fight it, didn’t want to, and saw
no reason why he should. Human, elf, or alien, Warren was a gift that
Drakon was certain he didn’t deserve. Maybe he’d feel differently
when the blood returned to his brain, but oddly, he didn’t think so.
When he had three fingers sawing into Warren’s hole without any
distress from his lover, he eased them free, coated his throbbing cock
with lube, and positioned the crown against Warren’s entrance.
Sheathing himself to the root inside the velvet-lined tunnel was pure
bliss, erotic pleasure unlike anything he’d ever felt before.
Those silky walls convulsed around his cock in waves, gripping
him, massaging him, and pushing him closer to the edge of no-return.
Urging Warren’s legs around his waist, he spread across his mate,
covering him from sternum to hips while still buried to the hilt inside
his perfect ass.
Warren’s head whipped back and forth on the pillow, sweat
beaded across his bronzed skin, and moaning whimpers of
unadulterated pleasure streamed from his kiss-swollen lips in a
symphony of erotic delight. Bracing himself with both hands beside
Warren’s head, Drakon flexed his hips, dragging his length over the
straining muscles of his lover’s hole until only the mushroom-shaped
head remained.
Thrusting forward once again, the heat that enveloped his aching
dick was even better than the first time, and that thin thread of self-
control finally snapped. Using one hand to stroke, grope, knead, and
caress every inch of Warren he could reach, he plunged into his
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Gabrielle Evans
mate’s depths over and over, driving them both closer to the brink of
climax.
“I…I can’t. I feel…fuck!” Warren’s entire frame began to
tremble, his muscles tensed, and his ass clamped down around
Drakon’s cock until he felt sure he’d need the Jaws of Life to get free.
A gorgeous flush spread across his slick skin. Waves of heat
poured off his body, flowing over Drakon like a physical touch. The
cords in his neck strained, his lips moved without sound, and his hips
arched, changing the angle and allowing Drakon deeper penetration.
The next inward surge must have brushed against the bundle of
nerves Drakon had been searching for, because Warren’s shoulders
came up off the mattress, and a primal, guttural yell reverberated
around the room. The sounds, the smells, and the pressure on his cock
were too much for Drakon to endure.
With a animalistic roar of his own, he pumped hard and fast,
prolonging Warren’s release while ropes of sticky cum erupted
between them. When the last drop was drained and his mate slumped
back to the bed, Drakon finally let go, encased himself to the base,
and stilled, filling Warren’s depths with endless reams of hot, thick,
semen.
Panting and huffing, trying to catch his breath and will his heart
rate back to normal, Drakon rolled to his side, groaning when his
softening prick slipped from Warren’s body with a naughty squelch.
“Holy shit.”
“Wow,” Warren breathed. “Just…wow.”
A cocky grin stretched his lips, and Drakon pushed up on his
elbow to stare down at his new lover. Dipping two fingers into the
drying cum on Warren’s belly, he began drawing little circles while
he watched the man’s face in amusement. “I guess that means it didn’t
hurt.”
“I mean, it burned a little at first. You’re not exactly petite, but no,
it didn’t hurt.” Batting Drakon’s hand away, Warren slid across the
Accepting the Impossible
45
minimal space between them and wrapped his arms around Drakon’s
neck. “Thank you. I didn’t know it was supposed to be like that.”
That same protective tenderness he’d been fighting since he’d met
Warren rose up again, and Drakon enveloped his lover in his arms,
holding him close to his chest while he stroked his spine
affectionately. “It only gets better, priya.”
“Practice makes perfect?” Warren mumbled against the side of his
neck while his lips curved into what Drakon assumed was a wicked
smile. “Well, I am somewhat of a perfectionist.”
As much as Drakon would love to take his mate around the world
again, they had pressing matters to attend to in order to secure
Warren’s place in the city. “Later, pet. We need to shower, discuss
some rules, and head down to the Council Office to fill out your
registration papers.”
“Oh. Right.” Some of the joy seeped out of his tone, but there was
nothing Drakon could do about it. He didn’t make the rules. He just
enforced them. “Do I have to wear a collar?”
“Yes, but we can pick out something tasteful. I’m not going to
make you wear a spiked dog collar or anything like that.”
Sucking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Warren
extracted himself from Drakon’s arms and nodded resolutely. “Then
let’s get this over with.”
* * * *
Dressed in a pair of old jeans and one of Drakon’s T-shirts,
Warren walked beside his mate with his head bent submissively,
watching only his feet as he shuffled along the sidewalk. “Am I doing
it right?” he asked out of the corner of his mouth.
“You’re doing great, Warren. Just remember not to speak unless I
ask you a question or give you permission. No one should speak to
you without asking me first, but if they do, you ignore them. And
never look anyone in the eyes.”
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Gabrielle Evans
It was a lot to remember, but Warren was determined to get it
right. The last thing he needed was for someone to figure out his
secret and pry him away from Drakon. It wasn’t the ideal situation,
but keeping close to Drakon was the best chance he had at getting
through this new life semi-free and very much alive.
Besides, Drakon said it was only while they were in public. When
people were watching, Warren would be the best damn pet in the city.
When he was alone with his mate inside his new home…well, he was
working on the whole “mate” thing.
As they neared the circle in the middle of the city—a roundabout
surrounded by different shops and buildings—they began to
encounter more and more people. Warren kept his head down and his
eyes averted, but he was constantly scanning for signs of his brother.
He seriously doubted he would find Kennedy just strolling down
the street in broad daylight, had no clue what he would do if he
actually saw him, but he continued to look anyway. “Will I have a
job?”
There were humans all around him, sweeping sidewalks, painting
buildings, or working the registers inside the different shops. It
surprised him to see how many of them were actually smiling while
they went about their chores.
It was incredibly different from the other towns he’d seen while
trying to remain hidden with his brother. The things Drakon had
described to him the night before seemed real enough now that he was
seeing them with his own eyes. It was such a stark contrast from the
bleak and desolate city he’d encountered on one of his raids that he
could hardly believe he was still on the same planet.
He wondered which of the two places was the exception and
which was the rule. He’d like to hope that this seemingly inviting city
was the norm, while places like the cold and vicious town not too far
away were few and far between. Another part of his brain vaguely
wondered if Drakon knew about those other places and was purposely
avoiding the topic to placate him.
Accepting the Impossible
47
As they neared their destination, one of the workers waved at
Drakon and gave him a cheery smile when he passed, which Warren
found odd. It also piqued a jealousy inside him that he didn’t much
care for.
“You are a pet, Warren,” Drakon said, answering his question
about being allowed to work. “The only job of a pet is to please his or
her Master. In return, you’ll be cared for, protected, sheltered, and
given everything you could want. It’s a very coveted position inside
the city.”
It sounded like the description of a beloved family dog to Warren,
but on the other hand, he could definitely see the perks. “What if I
want to work?”
“Quiet now,” Drakon warned. “We’re almost there.”
Stopping at the next building they came to, Drakon held the door
open and ushered Warren inside ahead of him. “Half a step behind me
and keep your head down,” he whispered. “I have the utmost faith
that you can do this.”
Warren preened on the inside from the compliment and
immediately felt foolish for it. He was pleased because someone had
said he’d make a good slave? How fucked up was that? Damn,
everything was so confusing.
Scraping out a life in the sewers was awful, but at least he’d been
free to make his own choices. Yet, he had to be grateful that it was
Drakon who’d found him first rather than the werewolf who’d caught
him in the alley, because he certainly didn’t see that relationship
ending well for him.
“Lieutenant Rhinegold!” The pretty receptionist greeted Drakon
as they approached her desk. “What can I do for you today?”
Lieutenant? Exactly who was this man?
“I’d like to register my new pet, Marcy.” Drakon’s hand landed on
the small of Warren’s back and nudged him forward a step.
“Oh, he is very handsome. Congratulations, Lieutenant.”
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Gabrielle Evans
Being spoken about as though he was too stupid to understand the
conversation wasn’t a pleasant feeling, but Warren kept his head
down and his mouth closed. With any luck, it wouldn’t take long, and
they could get back to the house where he had some measure of
dignity still intact.
“I’ll just need you to fill out the paperwork, and he’ll need his
inoculations, of course,” Marcy continued cheerily. “He’ll also need a
collar. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to him, would we?”
“Pet,” Drakon addressed him, “I want you to go with Marcy and
do exactly as she says. Do you have any questions?”
Keeping his head down, Warren peeked up at Drakon through his
eyelashes, hoping he appeared appropriately subdued. “Where am I
going?”
“You need a vaccination. It’s only one shot, and you’ll be brought
right back here to me. If you have any more questions, you can ask
Marcy. Understood?”
“Yes. Master,” Warren hurriedly tacked on at the end. This was a
lot damn harder than he thought it was going to be. Coupled with the
fact that he really didn’t like needles, it was shaping up to be a pretty
shitty day despite the amazing morning he’d spent in bed.
“What’s your name, sweetie?” Marcy asked him as she took his
elbow and led him through a door behind her desk.
“Warren.” He chewed on his lip for a moment, trying to figure out
how to address the pretty brunette. “What do I call you?”
“Oh, honey, you can just call me Marcy. I can tell you’re new, but
I promise it gets easier. Lieutenant Rhinegold is a good man. He’ll
take excellent care of you.”
“Are you human?”
“No, Warren. I’m a pixie.” She pointed up to her short, spikey
hair and giggled. “Can’t you tell?”
Warren shook his head, but he was finally beginning to relax.
“Why do I need a shot?”
Accepting the Impossible
49
“It’s a five-in-one vaccination. You’ll need to renew it every
seven years, but as long as you do, you will never be sick again.”
Warren liked the sound of that. He was a horrible patient and
turned into a whining child when he had so much as a cold. “How do
you know Drakon?”
Her dainty fingers caressed a tiny gold chain that hung around her
neck. “My Master is a sentry as well. Lieutenant Rhinegold
introduced us.”
“I don’t know how to be a pet,” Warren confessed as he plopped
down in the chair she pointed to and rolled up this shirt sleeve.
“You’ll learn, sweetie. Your Master will help you, and it will be
much safer for you.”
“Drakon makes this new world sound like a fairy tale, but I think
he’s just trying to placate me. No offense, Marcy. You seem really
nice, but they can’t all be like you and Drakon. Humans can’t really
be happy as slaves and playthings.”
Marcy was quiet for a long time while she prepped the needle for
his vaccination. When she finally spoke, her words were careful and
measured, though.
“Mostly, I think the humans and weaker paranormals like myself
are happy in their roles here. We really aren’t treated badly. The thing
you have to remember with supes is that, just like humans, there are
the good ones and the bad ones.”
“Which are the bad ones?”
“There are bad apples in every race, but the vampires tend to have
more than others. I think they’re jaded since they’ve been alive longer
than the rest. They’ve been through it all, right from the beginning,
and suffered at the hands of mortals. It’s made them vengeful.”
“You sound like you know from experience.”
“My Master is a vampire.” Marcy smiled fondly as she applied a
Band-Aid to his bicep. “All done.”
“That’s it?” He hadn’t even felt the needle prick his skin.
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Gabrielle Evans
“What did you expect, honey? A horse tranquilizer? Really, now.”
She laughed indulgently and ruffled his hair. “Let’s see if the
Lieutenant is finished with your paperwork. Then you get to go next
door and pick out a collar.”
“I like your collar. I think I’d like something like that.”
Leaning closer, she whispered conspiratorially to him. “Don’t let
him pick anything outrageous or tacky. You wouldn’t believe some of
the gaudy collars I’ve seen around here on pets.” Opening the door
that led back to the main lobby, Marcy looked over her shoulder and
winked. “Head down, sweetie.”
Wiping the silly grin off his face, Warren ducked his head, linked
his fingers together in front of him, and walked with a calm grace
back to Drakon’s side. He was feeling much better after his talk with
the little pixie, but it did give him a lot more to think about.
Hopefully, Drakon would be willing to answer some of those
questions for him when they were alone.
“All finished, pet. Are you ready to pick out your collar?”
Drakon’s fingers looped around the back of his neck and gently
massaged the tight muscles there. “I was thinking something in
silver.”
“That would be an excellent choice, Lieutenant,” Marcy agreed as
she took the stack of papers from Drakon’s hand. Her voice lowered,
and she leaned over her desk with a serious look on her face. “A
vampire has walked past the windows at least three times since you
brought Warren in. Please be careful.”
“I’ve seen him.” The fingers around Warren’s neck squeezed a
little harder for a moment before Drakon seemed to realize what he
was doing. Then the grip relaxed and his thumb stroked over
Warren’s nape in an affectionate manner. “Thank you, Marcy. I’ll
keep my eyes open.”
Unhappy and a bit anxious about this development, Warren
shuffled closer to his mate’s side, praying he wouldn’t be
reprimanded for his show of weakness. Thankfully, Drakon just
Accepting the Impossible
51
wrapped an arm around his waist and tucked him against his hip.
“Don’t be afraid, pet.” A soft kiss landed on Warren’s temple while
Drakon cradled the back of his skull. “I’ve got you.”
Warren didn’t think it was the usual dynamics between Masters
and pets, but he was grateful for the comfort. “Can we go now?”
After kissing his temple again, Drakon eased him away and
sighed. “Half a step behind and head down.”
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Gabrielle Evans
Chapter Five
“It’s been four days. How long are you going to keep admiring
your collar?”
Warren met his eyes in the mirror over the dresser, and his pretty
pink lips quirked on one side in an adorable half smile. “Hush. It’s
pretty.”
It was a magnificent piece of jewelry, if Drakon did say so
himself. The silver chain gleamed in the light from the bedside lamp,
not too thick, but not feminine, either. It encircled Warren’s slender
throat like a well-fitted glove, draping elegantly along the crook of his
neck. Just below his Adam’s apple hung a triangular-shaped emerald,
nestled beautifully into the slight indentation just above his clavicles.
On the back of the silver encased emerald was etched Drakon’s
name, phone number, and Warren’s registration number. His mate
had thrown a fit about it at first, comparing the gem to an ordinary
dog tag, but he’d calmed once Drakon had reminded him it was for
his own safety.
They were adjusting well to life together—much more so than
Drakon had anticipated. For a man who had wanted nothing to do
with owning a pet or catering to a mate, he actually found himself
looking forward to waking up with Warren in his arms now.
Unfortunately, there were still times when he’d catch his lover
staring off into space with a lost, vacant expression that pulled at
Drakon’s heartstrings. Each time he inquired about the reason behind
that forlorn look, however, Warren would just smile and change the
subject. So, he let it go, trusting the mortal would confess when he
was ready.
Accepting the Impossible
53
“I have patrol tonight,” he reminded his mate for the third time
that evening.
“I remember. Four days on and four days off. I’ll be fine on my
own for a few hours.”
“Twelve,” Drakon corrected. “I’ll be gone for twelve hours.”
“Yes, I understand that. I’m a big boy, Drakon. I’ll even eat my
vegetables and wash behind my ears before bedtime.”
Drakon had never allowed another living being to speak to him in
such a way, but it always brought a chuckle out of him when Warren
did it. Gods, he was weak where his mate was concerned. He just
hoped that it wouldn’t prove deadly for both of them. “Don’t leave the
house for any reason.”
Warren sighed in obvious exasperation as he turned away from
the mirror and fisted his small hands on his hips. “Stop worrying. I’ll
stay inside, keep the doors locked, and I have your cell phone number
if I need you for anything. See? I got this.”
Why didn’t Drakon believe him, then? Something told him—
maybe that faraway look Warren got sometimes—that his new lover
had just been biding his time, waiting for a chance to escape back to
the sewers. Not only was Drakon too attached to the imp to let that
happen, but the danger would be even greater now that others in the
city knew of Warren’s existence.
Other than lock Warren in the basement or chain him to the wall,
there wasn’t much he could do about it, though. If the man was
determined to leave, he’d find a way, and Drakon would just have to
deal with the consequences when the time came.
“Marcy has a job.”
Lost in his own unpleasant thoughts, it took Drakon a full minute
to catch up to the change in topic. “Yes?” It didn’t sound like a
question, but he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond.
“What’s your point?”
“She’s a pet.”
“Yes.” What the hell was he getting at?
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Gabrielle Evans
“Why can’t I have a job?”
Ah, now they were getting somewhere. “We’ve discussed this. It’s
not safe for you to be out in the city alone.”
“Why? You said that humans aren’t treated badly. Marcy’s Master
doesn’t have a problem with her working. Why can’t I?”
“Because I said no!” Drakon roared. Picturing his mate alone and
vulnerable brought out the animal side of him. Knowing he could do
nothing if Warren found himself in trouble felt like a white-hot poker
to his gut. “I can’t protect you out there!”
“There’s no need to yell,” Warren reprimanded him with an
arched eyebrow. “I was just asking.” A knowing smirk graced his
features, and he lifted his arms to cross them over his bare chest. “It’s
not all picnics and poetry for the humans here, is it?”
“There are those who will take what they want without guilt,”
Drakon relented.
“Vampires? Yeah, Marcy told me. Good thing vampires are the
ones in charge.”
“There’s no need for sarcasm, Warren. Yes, vampires, but not all
of them are bad. Don’t judge the whole race because of a few bad
eggs.”
“Why not?” Warren demanded. “Isn’t that what you did to
humans?”
Drakon closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Why
did he always allow himself to be dragged into these arguments? “I’m
not going to debate this with you anymore. I have to get dressed for
patrol.”
“Are you hungry?”
“I wouldn’t say no to a sandwich.”
“I know how you like it.”
Warren’s usual smile returned full force, and just like that, the
fight was over. Or Drakon was being played. Either way, he’d dodged
the bullet for a while longer. Rolling off the side of the bed, he ruffled
his short hair and groaned at the thought of getting dressed.
Accepting the Impossible
55
Normally, he didn’t mind patrolling the streets at night, but he felt
uneasy about leaving Warren alone. They’d only been outside of the
house twice, and both times Warren had played his part spectacularly.
Yet, there was still a wild and defiant air about him that was
concerning. Would Drakon come home to find the house empty?
“Let it go, Rhinegold. He’ll be here or he won’t.”
Deciding to postpone getting dressed in favor of dining in the
nude, Drakon plodded down the hallway and stopped just inside the
kitchen doorway to admire his equally naked mate. Gods, Warren had
a fine ass. It never failed to catch his attention and leave his mouth
watering each time he caught a glimpse of it. When those tight inner
muscles were wrapped around Drakon’s cock…
He cut that thought off quickly, knowing his job would be much
more difficult if he had to do it with a chubby for most of the night.
All of that hairless, golden skin on display wasn’t helping, either. “I
bought you clothes. The least you could do is wear them.”
Warren glanced over his shoulder and offered a cheeky smile. “I
thought you liked your mate naked?”
Yes, he did, but that was during his days off. Now, Drakon was
finding it very distracting. For the most part, his job wasn’t extremely
dangerous, but being off his game could still be perilous. Humans
might be weaker, but their weapons weren’t.
“Sit.” Warren pointed toward the small kitchen table and held up
the finished sandwich with the other hand. “Eat.”
Drakon lifted one eyebrow as he pushed away from the doorjamb.
“Exactly who is the pet here, priya?”
“Hey, I’m not the one who turns into something furry.”
Growling playfully, Drakon lunged across the room and snatched
his mate off his feet, sending the food falling to the tiles. Keeping a
firm hold on Warren’s ass, he pressed the man’s back to the
refrigerator and nipped at his earlobe. “Want to try that one again?”
“Mmm,” Warren purred. “Are you going to punish me?” One
hand held on to the back of Drakon’s neck while the other dipped
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between their bodies to encompass his pulsing cock. “You like that
idea, don’t you?”
Oh, he liked it a lot. Drakon had a very vivid imagination and had
no problem picturing Warren’s sweet ass reddened with marks from a
flogger, a paddle, or even his hand. He’d been having fantasies about
laying his lover out on the stretcher, bending him over the whipping
post, and stringing him up in the sling all week.
The way Warren spoke of his previous sexual experience didn’t
give Drakon much hope that he’d be into those kinds of things. Since
it was all about mutual pleasure, it wouldn’t be much fun for Drakon
if his mate wasn’t enjoying the experience. Maybe he’d been wrong.
Gods, he hoped he was wrong.
He didn’t have time to introduce Warren to the joys of his
dungeon right then, but he could give the man something to look
forward to come morning.
* * * *
One minute, Warren had his new favorite toy in his hand, and the
next, he found himself on his knees, getting an up close and personal
view instead. Before he could wrap his lips around his lover’s thick,
veiny cock, however, Drakon fisted a hand in his hair, jerking his
head back on his shoulders.
“Open up, pet.”
The hoarse, raspy quality of Drakon’s voice was alluring in a way
that Warren’s couldn’t describe. Opening his mouth obediently, he
held perfectly still while his mate gripped the base of his fat cock and
slid the dripping head along Warren’s lips, smearing them with pre-
cum.
The spongy crown slid over his tongue, prodding inside his mouth
with quick, short jabs that were more teasing than anything. All too
soon, Drakon pulled out and traced Warren’s lips once again, wetting
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57
them with the head of his dick. Then, with a quiet growl, he rocked
his hips, pushing his throbbing length to the back of Warren’s throat.
Surprise and lack of experience caused him to gag as the soft
lining of his esophagus was prodded, but Drakon backed off quickly,
allowing him to catch his breath. When Drakon thrust to the back of
his mouth a second time, Warren was ready. By relaxing his jaw and
opening his throat, he was able to take his lover’s massive girth with
little discomfort.
“Good, Warren,” Drakon praised him. “Very good.”
Ridiculously pleased by the compliment, Warren moaned around
the rigid flesh stretching his lips and swirled his tongue, flicking the
end along the base of Drakon’s cock. Perhaps he’d been overzealous
in his pursuit of more praise, because the action caused him to gag
again when his throat closed around the dripping crown.
Drakon pulled back immediately, giving Warren the time he
needed to recover. When the slick cock tapped against his mouth once
again, he dove forward and wrapped his lips around the shaft without
instruction. His cock-sucking experience was poor at best, but what
he didn’t know, he’d make up for with enthusiasm.
No, he didn’t have a clue what he was doing, but if the groans
coming from Drakon were any indication, something was working.
Taking care to keep his teeth covered, Warren bobbed his head as
much as he could, but each motion was met with resistance from the
hand still tangled in his hair.
Frustrated with the minimum mobility, he tried to shake off the
hold, though secretly loving the pull on his scalp. Rather than give
him any kind of control, Drakon tightened his grip and pulled his cock
from Warren’s mouth with a grunt.
“You can’t help yourself, can you?” There was a devilish gleam in
Drakon’s eyes as he backed away and settled into one of the kitchen
chairs. “Come here, pet.”
Rising from the tiled floor with as much grace as he could muster,
Warren gained his feet and shuffled over to stand in front of Drakon.
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In a lightning-quick move he didn’t see coming, he was grabbed and
turned, forced facedown across Drakon’s lap with his ass in the air.
His throbbing cock settled between his lover’s legs, trapped by
those massive, muscular thighs, and one hand held the back of his
neck, keeping him in place when he struggled. “What the hell are you
doing?”
“You will learn who is in charge, Warren, and it’s not you.” A
hard, stinging smack landed on his upturned backside, sending heat
radiating straight to his dick. “I think ten swats should get the
message across.”
“Ten?” Warren yelped when Drakon’s hand met with his ass
again. “You’re going to spank me because I tried to suck your dick?”
“You’re being punished because of your failure to follow
directions.” Twice more Drakon’s hand landed against his sensitive
flesh while the slap of skin against skin echoed around the kitchen.
“Are you ready to start counting?”
As much as he wanted to argue, he knew it wouldn’t do him any
good. “Yes, Master.” It also sucked that he couldn’t summon up the
proper level of indignation. Each stinging strike against his burning
ass made his dick jerk and his balls ache with indescribable pleasure.
He counted each blow out loud, though by the time he reached
five, his voice was wispy and breathless. Pre-cum leaked freely from
his slit, coating the inside of Drakon’s thighs, and jolts of unfamiliar
desire coursed along his spine until he felt dizzy with it. His muscles
quivered, perspiration slicked his skin, and a firestorm erupted inside
his belly.
“I can’t hear you, pet.” Drakon’s palm smoothed over his
enflamed skin, and his fingertips tickled Warren’s crease. “You don’t
want to start over, do you?”
Did he? Nothing made sense to him anymore. “Nine.” A ragged
moan rent through him when a finger parted his cheeks and bumped
over his fluttering hole. “Please,” he begged. His dick was so hard, his
balls so tight, and the need to come was overwhelming.
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59
“Come for me, Warren.” Then Drakon delivered the last swat
while at the same time pulling deliberately on Warren’s hair, adding
another bite of pain that Warren welcomed with enthusiasm.
“Ten!” Warren cried out and shuddered through his climax,
spilling an endless torrent of hot cream from his pulsing cock.
Feeling drained and disoriented, he was only distantly aware that
the world around him seemed to be moving. When he was draped
over the polished kitchen table and a slippery finger sank into his
clenching channel, everything came rushing back at once with an
intensity that consumed him.
Sights were clearer, sharper. Sounds were louder, more crisp.
Warren could smell the musky scent of sweat and semen, along with
something that was uniquely Drakon. Even after the most amazing
orgasm of his life, his cock was still hard, straining where it lay
trapped under his body.
A warm, solid weight covered his back, powerful yet gentle, and
Warren wallowed in the safety and security it represented. So much
had happened to him in the last week, and often times he was left
wondering which way was up. No matter their differences, though,
Drakon had yet to let him fall.
The fingers in his hole disappeared, replaced by the blunt pressure
of Drakon’s cock. As his lover surged inside him, Warren curled his
fingers around the edge of the circular table and moaned from deep in
his chest. The stretch, the burn, and the way Drakon filled him so
completely was quickly becoming addicting.
Hard and fast, Drakon rode his ass with primal grunts that
vibrated against Warren’s back. His large, sinewy arms held Warren
around the chest in a possessive embrace, crushing him close while
his hips thrust in a strong, demanding tempo.
When he thought he couldn’t take anymore, Drakon’s broad hand
slid sensuously down his clenching abs, palmed his cock in a firm
grasp, and stroked from base to helmet. The dominance in the touch
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set Warren’s blood on fire and had him gasping for breath as
sensations bombarded him.
“Come, priya.”
Helpless against the command, Warren dropped his head back to
rest against Drakon’s shoulder and groaned, bucking in his mate’s
hold as his release ripped through him for the second time. A huff of
breath breezed over the side of his throat, followed by a scrape of
teeth that made his skin break out in goose bumps.
Feeling weak and exhausted, Warren slumped against Drakon’s
chest, giving a full body shiver when molten lava splashed against his
inner walls, filling him to the brim and leaking back down his thighs.
He vaguely realized that his mate had been trying to prove a point, but
all he could think about were ways to get the man to punish him
again.
“You’ll be here when I come home from patrol.”
It wasn’t a question. It didn’t exactly sound like an order, either. It
was as though Drakon was trying to convince himself that Warren
wasn’t going to fly the coop. Warren still wanted to find his brother
before he left the city, however, and he couldn’t exactly do that if he
was hiding out underground.
“Yeah, Drakon,” he answered around a yawn. “I’ll be here.”
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61
Chapter Six
“I hear you have a new pet.”
Drakon kept his expression neutral, but flinched inwardly at the
accusation in the tone. “Yes, Captain. It’s a recent development.”
“Since your last patrol, recent?” His commanding officer smirked
knowingly but didn’t glance in his direction as they marched down
the deserted sidewalk. “Warren, isn’t it?” She chuckled under her
breath and rolled her shoulders. “Don’t look so surprised,
Lieutenant.”
He wasn’t surprised. Concerned, maybe, but not surprised.
Captain Portia Rickman had spent weeks with the rogue humans,
guiding them toward the city, corralling them to the surface, and
leading them right into the hands of the sentries. After his altercation
with the werewolf, Rustin, he’d known there was no way to keep
Warren’s existence a secret.
It had been foolish for him to hope she’d been too occupied
during the raid to notice. Hell, she’d probably known the second
Drakon decided to bring Warren home with him. Why was he so
nervous, though? He hadn’t done anything wrong. Warren was
registered and wore Drakon’s collar, and he was perfectly within his
rights to own a pet.
It was more than acceptable for him to have a mate as well, but he
wasn’t about to divulge that bit of information, especially not to a
werewolf. The last thought nearly had him groaning out loud.
How had Portia lived amongst the humans in such close quarters
without them ever suspecting anything? He was going to have to work
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with Warren on how to identify different supes so he wouldn’t find
himself in the same situation again if something happened to Drakon.
“Warren is a good kid,” Portia said as they rounded the corner
near the bakery. “He’s got fire, and he’s smart. Those are good
qualities, but dangerous for a pet.”
“His training is going well.” Drakon didn’t know why he was
explaining himself to the woman. As long as Warren didn’t cause any
trouble inside the city, his status as Drakon’s pet was of no one’s
concern. Still, it was probably better to play nice while volunteering
as little information as possible.
“I’m not your enemy, Drakon.” Stopping in front of him, Portia
turned and crossed her arms atop her breasts as a dark expression
settled over her face. “I hear things. I see things. I’m not trying to bust
your balls, man. I’m trying to warn you.”
She’d been his commanding officer for nearly six months, but
they’d never been friends. To say he was suspicious of this newfound
sense of camaraderie would be a huge understatement. “I appreciate
the warning, Captain. I’ll be cautious and alert.”
Giving him an unnamable look, Portia shook her head and sighed.
“I can’t make you trust me, but I hope you’re listening. Have you
noticed a decrease in attacks from the Harbingers lately?”
Drakon nodded slowly in agreement. The same virus that had
wiped out large numbers of the human population had also exhibited
strange effects on some of the human-like paranormals, such as the
fairies and elves. Rather than succumb to the virus, however, they’d
mutated, becoming vicious, savage beasts. Wherever they went, death
followed.
“What does that have to do with Warren?”
The she-wolf looked up and down the street as though checking
that no one was around to overhear her before she spoke again.
“We’ve been trading humans to the nearby settlement for months
now. The Harbingers get what they want, and our streets are safe from
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63
attack. Not only is Warren pretty, but he’s new in the city. No one
would even notice he was gone.”
Drakon would sure as hell notice, and he was hard pressed to
choke back the growl rising in his throat. In spite of his feelings
toward humans, they weren’t cattle to be rounded up and sent off to
the slaughterhouse. Yes, they were selfish and often times cruel, but
that didn’t mean they deserved to be sacrificed at an altar.
“He’s registered. He has a collar.”
Portia shrugged. “Sometimes pets run away. It wouldn’t be the
first time.”
“Is that a threat, Captain?”
“Take it as you want. I’d keep a close eye on my pet if I were you,
though. He’s not even supposed to be here.”
The wheels in his head started spinning, and the dawning light of
realization suddenly flickered to life. They hadn’t been hunting rogue
humans for the safety of the city. They’d been gathering fodder and
playthings for the Harbingers.
Rage and disgust rolled through him, making his stomach churn
and bile rise up in his esophagus. Suddenly, he felt no better than the
monster Warren had accused him of being. It didn’t matter that he’d
been blind to the dealings of his colleagues. He’d still played his part
in the heinous acts.
“Sun’s coming up,” Portia announced to the graying sky. “Head
home, Rhinegold. I’ll give our report to base.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice. After the unsettling things he’d
just learned, Drakon was anxious to get back to his mate. His gait
remained swift but casual until he turned onto the street that led to his
house. Faced with the growing anxiety that he’d open the door to
blood-stained walls or worse, Drakon no longer cared if he was being
watched and sprinted all the way to his porch.
“Warren!” Slamming the front door behind him, he strode straight
to the bedroom, turning on lights as he went. “Warren!”
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The first things he noticed when he stepped into his room were the
wrinkled sheets and disheveled blankets on the bed. Warren had
definitely been there, but where the hell was he now?
Drakon’s heart flopped over in his chest and tripped into a high
gallop when he noticed the curtains flapping in the breeze created by
the open window. No, surely not. Surely Warren wouldn’t have gone
out on his own. He was smart, too smart for a stunt like that.
“Damn it!”
“What on earth are you shouting about?” Warren stood inside the
doorway of the en-suite bathroom, beautifully naked and sleep
tousled.
“Why is the window open?”
“It’s hot.”
“Why didn’t you answer me?”
“I didn’t hear you.”
Torn between wanting to throttle the man and a desperate need to
kiss the life out of him, Drakon settled for somewhere in between.
Crossing the carpeted floor, he lifted Warren by his waist and sucked
in a deep breath, letting his mate’s intoxicating scent calm him.
“Hey,” Warren whispered, stroking Drakon’s hair back from his
face. “What happened?”
Embarrassed by his display of weakness, Drakon cleared his
throat roughly and set Warren back on his feet. “Go back to sleep,
priya. I’m going to grab a shower before I join you.”
His lover eyed him quizzically but remained silent, giving a short
nod in answer. Drakon couldn’t put him off forever, though. It wasn’t
a conversation he was looking forward to, but one they needed to
have sooner rather than later.
They were just beginning to build a tentative trust and
understanding. Now, with just a few words, Drakon was about to
dismantle all of that.
* * * *
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65
It probably should have surprised him, but it didn’t. As he sat and
listened to Drakon explain everything he’d learned during his patrol,
Warren simply felt numb.
Discovering that Portia had been a traitor all along sucked, but
he’d always suspected there was something strange about her.
Besides, after Kennedy’s kidnapping nearly three months before,
Warren didn’t form attachments. He’d felt a brief sadness for the loss
of life when he’d thought Portia had perished during the raid, but it
had nothing to do with any emotions he’d had toward her personally.
Banding together gave people a false sense of security. Misery
loved company, and it had been a small comfort to know they weren’t
alone in this new, unforgiving world. When it came right down to it,
however, humans and supes alike would always look out for number
one.
Keeping his head down and taking care of himself first had kept
him alive, and Warren intended to do whatever was necessary keep
his heart beating.
The first step in surviving Armageddon had been to accept the
impossible. After all, he couldn’t fight something he didn’t believe in.
He’d fought like hell, too. His entire family had been wiped out in the
virus storm, leaving only him and Kennedy. Three years his brother’s
senior, he’d taken it upon himself to be Kennedy’s protector, but a fat
lot of good he’d done.
Had Kennedy already found his way into the hands of these
Harbingers? “I thought paranormals didn’t get sick.”
“We don’t,” Drakon answered him with a furrowed brow. “Why
do you say that?”
“Well, what are these Harbinger things? I thought the virus didn’t
affect supes.” Why would the paranormal world release a virus that
would hurt their own kind?
“No one really knows for sure, Warren. It’s not like we can just
stroll up to one of them and ask. Most are hybrids, I think, at least part
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human. Instead of killing them, the virus mutated them both
physically and mentally. It’s sad, and I kind of feel sorry for them.
The bottom line, though, is that they’re dangerous.”
It wasn’t enough that he had to deal with vampires, werewolves,
and all the other creatures from the stories he’d grown up hearing.
Now they were mutated and more dangerous than ever. Just fucking
great. And the worst part was that his brother could have already
found his way into their deranged hands.
“I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t save him.”
Drakon’s brows scrunched together, and the corners of his lips
turned down into a frown. “Who couldn’t you save, priya?” His lover
settled his back against the headboard and spread his thighs,
motioning for Warren to come closer.
Settling between Drakon’s legs, Warren rested his head over his
mate’s bare stomach and traced the solid bricks of muscles with his
fingertips. “It had been raining for days, just pouring out of the sky in
sheets. We’d been hiding out in an abandoned cellar closer to the
mountains when the flooding started.”
“So why did you come to the city instead of crossing the
mountains?”
“Kennedy wanted to, but we didn’t have enough supplies for the
trip. It was just supposed to be an in and out thing. We were going to
dip into the city at night to pick up food, dry clothes, and hiking
boots. Then we’d hide out in the sewers during the day and move on
the next night.”
“What went wrong?” Drakon’s voice was quiet and coaxing,
while his talented fingers burrowed into Warren’s hair and massaged
his scalp.
“I don’t really know. Somehow, we got separated. By the time I
found him, he was being carried toward the city. I’ve been trying to
find a way to get him back ever since.”
“Wait. They were carrying him toward this city? I thought you
were in the city when he disappeared.”
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67
Warren sighed and shook his head fractionally. “It’s not really a
city, just a small, over-populated town southeast of here. It was a huge
risk going in there. I should have known better, but we hadn’t eaten
anything in almost two days.”
“Sentries from this city were there?”
“I guess. This is the only other populated area in the direction they
took Kennedy, so I have to assume they brought him here. I’m just
glad it wasn’t the others who got him.” A shuddered worked its way
down his spine as the thought of what could have happened flitted
through his mind.
“What others? Why is this better? I thought you hated it here.”
There was a smile in Drakon’s voice, but Warren wasn’t really in the
joking kind of mood.
“Not all the towns are like this one, Drakon. Some use humans as
real slaves. I’m talking whips, chains, and the whole nine yards.”
Pushing up to see into his mate’s eyes, he tilted his head to the side
and frowned. “Didn’t you know that?” He really didn’t think so, but
he’d been dying to ask since their first trip into the heart of the city.
“No,” Drakon answered slowly with a sad look in his eyes. “I
haven’t left the city since the New Order took power. I didn’t have
any reason to, I guess.” He urged Warren’s head back to his stomach
and resumed petting his hair. “No wonder you hated me so much.”
“I didn’t hate you. I was scared. I’m still scared, but I have to find
Kennedy. I have to at least know what happened to him.”
“Kennedy?” Drakon’s fingers paused in their ministrations, and he
cocked his head to the side as he gazed down at Warren. “What does
he look like?”
“Kind of like me but younger and with darker hair. He’s about my
height, a little skinnier, but we have the same eyes. Everyone always
says we have the same eyes.”
“Come here, Warren.”
Crawling up Drakon’s body and straddling his hips, Warren rested
his hands on his lover’s shoulders and chewed on the inside of his
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cheek. Did Drakon know where Kennedy was? Had he seen him? Did
he have more bad news to share?
“I can’t leave until my next day off. It’ll be too suspicious. That
only leaves us three days to get everything in order, though. Do you
understand what I’m trying to say?”
Warren shook his head.
“You can’t stay here, Warren. I don’t know when, but someone is
going to come for you. I promised you I wouldn’t let anything happen
to you, and I’m going to keep that promise.”
“Where are we going?”
“Just you, priya. I’ll help you get to the mountain pass, but I can’t
go with you.”
“What?” Warren’s hands slipped up to cup both sides of Drakon’s
corded neck. “Why not?” He’d had his reservations at first, but
Drakon had been nothing but good to him. So good in fact, Warren
had slipped and broken his steadfast rule about not forming
attachments.
“I’ll stay behind and make sure you’re not followed.”
“Then you’ll meet me?” Why the hell was he being so needy? He
was getting what he wanted. Did it really matter if Drakon
accompanied him on the journey? Surprisingly enough, he found the
answer was a resounding yes.
The look his mate gave him did nothing to inspire hope. “No,
Warren. I won’t be meeting you.”
Warren winced at the burn as he swallowed around the lump in
his throat. “I can’t leave without Kennedy. I have to at least find out
what happened to him.”
“If he’s been taken as a pet, Marcy will know. Otherwise, I’m
afraid it’s going to be a lot harder to locate him, especially if he’s
serving as a blood slave.”
“Okay, I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that. So, can we
go talk to Marcy?”
Accepting the Impossible
69
Rolling to his side and scooting down in the bed, Drakon pulled
Warren to his chest and tucked his head under his chin. “Get some
sleep. We’ll talk to Marcy when we wake up.”
“Why are you being so nice and helping me?”
“I don’t know,” Drakon answered slowly. “I guess I kind of like
you.”
Feeling real hope for the first time in months, Warren nuzzled
against the side of Drakon’s neck and grinned. “I guess I kind of like
you, too.”
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Chapter Seven
“Twice in one week? Lieutenant, I’m flattered!”
The smile that had once been so rare to grace his features came
much quicker these days. Grinning wide enough to show off his teeth,
Drakon settled one hand on Warren’s lower back and dipped his head
in Marcy’s direction. “My pet was wondering if he could ask you a
question.”
“I’d be delighted to help.” Her eyes twinkled with merriment
when her gaze settled on Warren. “It’s so nice to see you again,
Warren.”
“Ask your question, priya.” Normally he wouldn’t use an
endearment in public, but he could trust Marcy. The little pixie owed
him. He’d saved her life and introduced her to her own mate, after all.
“Do you have anyone by the name of Kennedy Colfax registered
in your computer?”
If Marcy found the request odd, she didn’t show it. Her fingers
flew across the keyboard while she scanned the computer screen for
the information Warren wanted. “You’re the only Colfax I have here,
but he could be under a different name. Do you know when he might
have been registered?”
“Within the last three months.” Warren’s nose wrinkled and his
brow furrowed in apparent concentration. “He disappeared around the
beginning of May. Kennedy is twenty-one, sandy-blond hair, and he
has a scar over his left eyebrow where I snagged him with a fishing
hook when we were kids.”
Drakon snorted in amusement, earning him a glare from his mate.
“It was an accident.”
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“I believe you.”
Warren rolled his eyes and huffed, but his lips twitched as though
trying to curve upward. “Behave.”
“Oh, you two are adorable.” Marcy sighed wistfully, though she
kept her eyes on the screen in front of her. “When I first saw you
together, I just knew you boys would be a good fit.”
It was a kind thing to say, but she was stalling. Drakon could hear
it in her tone. “What do you know, Marcy?”
Warren whipped his head back and forth between Drakon and
Marcy with his mouth hanging open like a guppy. “Have you seen
him? Do you know something? Please, tell me where my brother is.”
“Keep your voice down.” Marcy’s eyes darted to a point over
Warren’s shoulder, peering through the huge windows to the street
beyond. “Yes, I’ve seen someone who matches that description. He
was brought in for registration around the same time you said he went
missing.”
“Well?” Warren demanded. “Where is he? Who’s his Master?”
“Quiet, Warren.” There were far too many people milling about
the sidewalks. It wouldn’t do for someone to see his mate speaking or
acting in such a way. “Remember your place.”
The look he received for that comment dropped the temperature in
the room by several degrees, but Warren pressed his lips together and
tilted his head downward submissively.
“Who registered the boy, Marcy?”
The pixie didn’t look thrilled about sharing the information. In
fact, she looked downright terrified. “If anyone finds out that I told
you…”
“We won’t tell anyone,” Warren interrupted. “Please.”
“The Prince,” Marcy whispered. “Prince Julius Marionette.”
“Prince? Like a real prince?” Poor Warren appeared completely
dumbfounded by the information.
Drakon didn’t understand why it was such a shock, though.
“Humans have royalty.”
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“Well, yeah, but we don’t cower in fear when we say their
names.”
Okay, the guy had him on that one. As he understood it, the
royalty within the human world was nothing more than a title. In the
New Order, however, the royal families were the ruling power, and
they governed their subjects with an iron fist, relying on fear rather
than loyalty.
“Thank you, Marcy.” She’d given them more information than
he’d expected, and Drakon had a lot to discuss with his mate. “I
promise you that I will not breathe a word of this to anyone.”
“I would be very grateful, Lieutenant.”
“What do we do now?” Warren whispered out of the side of his
mouth when they were outside of the building. “How do we get
Kennedy back?”
“We don’t.” The only way the situation could have been worse
was if Kennedy truly had been sacrificed to the Harbingers. The royal
family was too well protected for them to attempt any sort of rescue,
and Drakon would be a damn fool to even contemplate it.
“Look, you don’t have to help me. I get that it’s dangerous, and
maybe I won’t make it out alive, but I have to try. He’s my brother,
Drakon. He’s the only family I have left, and I know he’d do the same
for me.”
Warren’s voice rose in volume, and his tone became heated,
drawing the attention of several passerby. “We’ll talk about it when
we get home. Put your head down and zip it.”
“No!” Coming to a dead stop, Warren drew his shoulders back
and fisted his hands at his sides. “I’m sick of this shit! All of it!” He
started waving his hands around wildly, while his face mottled an
angry red. “I’m not your goddamn slave!”
“Warren,” Drakon growled in warning. A crowd began to gather
around them as people stopped on the sidewalks to gape at Warren’s
disrespectful and humiliating behavior. Drakon might find his mate’s
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fiery temper a turn-on, but the gawkers around him looked appalled at
seeing a pet act in such a way to his Master.
“What? What are they going to do?” Baring his teeth, Warren
whirled around and growled at a vampire standing just behind him.
“Do you have a fucking problem?”
It took every ounce of willpower Drakon possessed not to close
his eyes and groan in agony when he realized who the vampire was.
Of all the goddamn people who could have come upon them in that
moment, why did it have to be this particular man?
Three sentries stepped forward, all reaching for Warren, but
Drakon was faster. Grabbing his mate around the elbow he jerked
Warren behind him, keeping one hand on his lover’s hip while he
growled at the werewolves. “Back off.”
“Lieutenant.” At the sound of the vampire’s voice, the sentries
stood at attention immediately with their hands behind their backs. “Is
there a problem here?”
Still keeping a protective hand on Warren, Drakon bowed his head
in respect, though he felt like he was going to lose his lunch all over
the pavement. “No, Prince Julius. There’s no problem.”
“Prince Julius?” Of course it was too much to hope that Warren
would keep his mouth shut. “You’re the prince?”
“Warren, shut up.”
The prince smirked as both sculpted eyebrows rose toward his
hairline. “Let him speak, Lieutenant. So, you know who I am, pet. Yet
you aren’t afraid.”
“Where is my brother?”
“And who would your brother be?”
“You know damn good and well who my brother is. Where the
fuck is Kennedy?”
Dipping under Drakon’s arm, Warren launched himself at the
prince with his arms outstretched and his fingers curled into claws. It
was by sheer luck that Drakon was able to catch him around the waist
and drag him back before he could actually reach the vampire.
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Threatening the crown prince was bad enough. He didn’t even
want to think about what would happen if he hadn’t reacted in time.
A very peculiar expression graced the prince’s visage, and his
eyes took on a faraway look as though he was lost in thought. To cap
off the increasingly strange encounter, Prince Julius smiled fondly
and dipped his head fractionally toward Warren.
“Take your pet home, Lieutenant. I don’t want to see him on the
streets again.” The hard tone didn’t match the warmth in his eyes at
all, and Drakon was growing more confused by the second. “Someone
will be by your place of residence tomorrow to collect your fine. I
suggest you get your pet under control.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, Prince Julius.”
Clapping his hand over Warren’s mouth to ensure the runt didn’t
make things worse by screaming obscenities, Drakon tucked him
under his arm like a football and hurried away. It wasn’t until he’d
climbed the steps of his front porch that he finally placed Warren on
his feet.
“Not a word,” he warned sternly while digging in his front pocket
for the door key. “Not one fucking word, Warren.”
“That pasty-white, arrogant, blood-sucking—”
“Warren! I swear to everything holy that I will belt you in the
goddamn mouth if you don’t shut it!” Throwing the door open,
Drakon shoved roughly at Warren’s shoulder, manhandling him into
the foyer. “Do you have any fucking idea what you’ve done?”
“I pissed off the prince and you have to pay a fine. Big damn
deal.”
“You, Warren.” Drakon took several deep breaths and pinched the
bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. “They’re coming
for you, not money.”
* * * *
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Repossessed pets became blood slaves for the royal family as
punishment for their misbehavior. It also happened to be a lifelong
sentence with no chance of parole for good behavior. Drakon could
have explained that before Warren had gone off half-cocked and tried
to claw out the eyes of the prince.
That wasn’t fair. Maybe Drakon hadn’t told him exactly what
would happen, but he had tried to warn him. No, the fault was all on
Warren. If he’d just listened and kept his temper under control, none
of this would be happening.
“We’ll have to leave tonight, as soon as the sun goes down.”
Great plan in theory, but Warren couldn’t do it. Not only was he
closer to finding his brother than he had been in months, but he
wasn’t going to let Drakon take the fall for him. “They’ll know you
helped me.”
“You just let me worry about that. The main thing is to get you
across the mountains before they even realize you’re missing.”
“I can’t leave without Kennedy, not now that I know for sure he’s
here. A blood slave isn’t my ideal occupation, but if it will get me into
the royal house, I’ll just be that much closer to my brother.”
“And what do you plan to do after you find him?” Drakon sat
forward on the sofa and rested his elbows on his knees, letting his
hands dangle between his legs. “There’s no way off that property
unless it’s in a body bag. I get that you want to help your brother, but
I’m not letting you pull some kamikaze stunt.” Then he pushed up
from the cushions and rubbed a hand through his dark hair. “Be ready
to leave at sundown.”
“Why do you even care? You never wanted a pet, and you
certainly didn’t want a human for a mate. Well, here’s your chance to
get your life back.”
Drakon stared at him for a long time without saying anything.
Then he shook his head and exited the room, mumbling under his
breath as he stomped down the hallway. Warren didn’t know what
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that was all about, but then again, he’d never presumed to understand
the guy.
He didn’t like the way his stomach cramped uncomfortably at the
thought of Drakon being upset with him, but what was he supposed to
do? Should he just give up on his brother because his lover was
having an attack of conscience?
Death didn’t scare Warren nearly as much as it once had. One of
the lessons he’d learned since the rise of the New Order was that there
were some things worth dying for. Maybe Kennedy was just some
worthless human to the supes. Maybe he was simply collateral
damage to other mortals.
To Warren, he was family, his baby brother, and he’d never
forgive himself if he didn’t do everything in his power to rescue him.
Rising from the arm of the recliner he’d been perched on, Warren
dropped his head, letting his long locks fall around his face as he
groaned. Something inside him ached at the thought of never seeing
Drakon again.
The man was nothing like the supes he’d observed in other towns.
Apparently, good paranormals like Drakon weren’t very
commonplace in this city either, if what he’d seen and heard about the
royal family as any indication. Though, he did really like Marcy.
He’d known Drakon for less than a week. He’d known Kennedy
for twenty-one years. In the perfect world, he wouldn’t have to choose
between the two people he cared about, but he wasn’t stupid. A
perfect world had never existed, and it sure as hell didn’t now. So as
much as it hurt, he’d have to let someone go.
Preparing for another argument with Drakon, he started toward
the bedroom they shared, but he only made it three steps before the
doorbell rang. More annoyed than concerned, Warren turned and
loped down the stairs to the foyer to answer the summons. Nothing
could have prepared him for what he found.
Prince Julius Marionette stood tall and proud, adjusting the
sleeves of his tailored suit jacket. The dark material was a striking
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contrast against his pale, ivory skin, and it hugged him in all the right
places, showing off his muscular physique. Eyes the color of new
spring grass stared down an aristocratic nose, surveying Warren like a
specimen under a microscope.
Remembering his manners this time, Warren ducked his head
respectfully and stood aside to allow the vampire entrance. “Please
come in, Your Highness.”
He really wanted to know why the man was there and why he was
alone. Prince Julius had said someone would be by to collect him the
following day, and Warren highly doubted the prince would attend to
such a trivial matter personally. Still, he’d caused enough trouble for
one day, and he wouldn’t shame Drakon in his own home.
“Where is your Master, pet?”
Gritting his teeth and keeping his smile pleasant was a challenge,
but Warren thought he pulled it off pretty well. “Right this way, sir.”
Thankfully, he didn’t have to play host for long. Drakon met them
at the top of the stairs in the formal living room, his brow furrowed
and a scowl on his face. “Prince Julius,” he said with a brief nod. “I
didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow.”
Not sure if he was supposed to go make tea or drop to his knees at
Drakon’s feet, Warren stood there awkwardly, fidgeting his hands
together behind his back. His lover was pretty lax in the rules when
they were home, and it was the first time they’d had a visitor since
Warren’s arrival. Damn, he didn’t know how he was supposed to
conduct himself, and he really didn’t want to fuck up again.
“Please, have a seat.” Drakon indicated the armchair beside the
prince. “Can I get you anything?”
The prince’s eyes darted to Warren, his gaze tracing the throbbing
vein in his neck. “Water will be fine.”
“Pet.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, Warren hustled out of the room, eager
to take advantage of his few minutes of reprieve. There were bottles
of water in the refrigerator, but did he just take that back? Did he put
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the water into a glass? What if the prince grew suspicious of the open
container?
Fuck it. Grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge, he tucked
them under his arm, and retrieved two drinking glasses from the
cupboard. Then he dipped back into the living room, placing one
bottle and one glass on the cocktail table in front of the prince, and the
other set in front of Drakon.
Should he have gotten ice? Crap! “Um, would you care for ice?”
Prince Julius’s smile was welcoming, but with a hint of
wickedness at the edges. “This is fine. Thank you, pet.”
Warren bowed his head and assumed a seat beside Drakon, but the
name still irked him. He didn’t mind so much when Drakon called
him pet. Coming from his lover, it was almost cute, like a nickname
or endearment. Hearing the prince call him by the title just felt
demeaning.
“I wanted to speak with you in private, Lieutenant,” the prince
began as he picked up his water bottle and twisted off the cap.
“Today’s incident on the street was unfortunate, but I do understand
your pet is very new. Perhaps we could give him a second chance.”
“Warren is very strong-willed, but he’s learning. He was
extremely upset today and forgot his manners. I can assure that it
won’t happen again.”
Was he hearing this correctly? Was he really going to get to stay
with Drakon?
“I have a pet of my own, so I understand just how stubborn they
can be.” Julius chuckled as though he was sharing a good joke with an
old friend.
Drakon’s hand landed on Warren’s knee, squeezing hard in
warning. “I appreciate you giving him a second chance. Pets are
troublesome, but they have their benefits.”
His dear mate was treading on thin ice. Warren understood that
they needed to present a certain face to outsiders, but if Drakon didn’t
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stop talking about him like he was nothing more than a pair of shoes,
he was going to serve the man his balls with a spoon.
“Indeed, they do. I’d be happy to sweep this entire mess under the
rug.” A pregnant pause followed the vampire’s words. “That is, if you
can prove to me that you can control your pet.”
Judging by the gleam in Julius’s eyes and the way Drakon tensed
beside him, Warren had a feeling his test wasn’t going to be the
written kind.
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Chapter Eight
A battle raged inside Drakon as he led Warren and the prince
down the stairs to the foyer and then down another flight to the lower
level of his home. On one hand, giving Julius what he wanted was
imperative if Warren wanted to keep his veins untapped. However,
Drakon had made a promise to never do anything to hurt or humiliate
his mate.
Putting Warren through his first scene while someone watched
from the corner didn’t seem like the best way to keep that promise.
He wasn’t sure how Warren would react to another watching them
during something so intimate. Would it turn him on? Or would he
indeed feel humiliated?
While Drakon was no stranger to having an audience during a
scene with a sub, this was completely foreign to him. None of those
subs had been his mate. Could he do it? Could he allow someone
else—even the crown prince—to watch his lover in the throes of
passion? Would he be able to hold his composure knowing the
prince’s eyes were raking over every inch of Warren’s nude body?
What was their alternative, though? If he didn’t go through with it,
under the New Order, Prince Julius had every right to take Warren
from him and deposit him into the harem of blood slaves in the royal
compound. He’d never see his mate again, never feel his touch or see
his sweet smile.
Was a little humiliation worth keeping the man safe and
protected? It was the epitome of being stuck between a rock and hard
place. If he didn’t go through with it, he could lose his priya forever.
If he did, he ran the risk of breaking the fragile trust they’d built.
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He’d promised to protect Warren, but he’d also promised to never
ask him to do anything that was demeaning or uncomfortable for him.
Either way he looked at, he was going to break one of those vows.
Stopping outside the door to his playroom, Drakon gripped the
doorknob tightly and closed his eyes. There was still time to say no,
time to get Warren out of the city. If he refused, it was highly unlikely
that the prince would take Warren right there on the spot. He’d most
likely send sentries for him the next morning. It wouldn’t be a lot of
time, but it would give them a head start.
If the vampire did insist on taking Warren right then, well, Drakon
would do whatever was necessary to prevent that from happening. He
was bigger, stronger, and considerably more powerful than Julius.
Again, it wouldn’t solve their problem, but it might give them enough
time to get away and hide.
“Pet? Do you understand what’s going to happen?”
Warren bowed his head while he trembled from head to toe. When
he answered, his voice was quiet and thick as though he was battling
back emotions. “Yes, Master.” The helplessness in his tone nearly
shattered Drakon’s heart.
With a resigned sigh, Drakon shook his head and released his hold
on the doorknob. He’d find a way to keep Warren with him, to keep
him safe, but this wasn’t it. “I can’t do this.”
“What?” Warren’s mouth fell open and his eyes rounded in
disbelief—though Drakon detected a hint of relief and gratitude
shining back at him. “Yes you can. You can definitely do this.”
“No.” Drakon spun around to face their guest and pulled his lover
into his arms. “I’m not going to put you on display just so some
asshole can get his rocks off and then turn around and back out on the
deal, anyway. I know how these things go.”
“Lieutenant Rhinegold…”
“No,” Drakon repeated to the prince. “Kill me or do whatever you
want, but Warren is much more than a pet. He’s my mate, and I will
not treat him like a piece of property, or a novelty for your
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enjoyment.” The vampire could try to kill him. He’d never succeed,
though. Taking a royal’s life would make him the most wanted man in
the country, possibly the world, but he would risk it for Warren.
“Bravo, Lieutenant.” The smile on Julius’s face lasted only for a
moment before his visage fell into a solemn expression of
hopelessness and despair. “I’m sorry, but I had to know I could trust
you. I suspected Warren was your mate, but I needed to know for sure
that you’d do anything to protect him.”
“And I think you need to start from the beginning.” Waving a
hand toward the sitting room off to the side, Drakon indicated the
prince should sit while he remained standing with Warren tucked
close to his side. “Why are you here, Your Majesty?”
“Please, call me Julius. We’re family after all.” A sad, half smile
tugged at his lips, but it was lost quickly. “When Kennedy arrived in
the city, I knew at once that he was my mate. My father, however,
was unimpressed with the idea of his only son mating a human. So, I
did the same as you. I attempted to register Kennedy as a pet and
teach him how to behave properly while we were in public.”
“What happened?” Warren asked. “What happened to my
brother?”
“I was only with him for a few days before my father regulated
him to the dungeons with the other blood slaves. I was caught by the
king’s personal guards when I attempted to free him. I was punished,
and Kennedy was sacrificed to the Harbingers.”
“No,” Warren breathed. His hand went to his mouth, and his eyes
misted with emotion as he clung to Drakon’s hand. “He…is he…do
you know…”
Julius’s eyes looked a little glassy as well, and he shook his head
slowly. “I don’t know what happened to him after that. I don’t think
he’s dead, though. I…I can still feel him.”
Meaning the prince had claimed the human, completing the
mating bond. It was something Drakon had been fighting against
since first meeting Warren. He wasn’t entirely sure what held him
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back, but he did know that he wouldn’t take that next step without his
mate’s explicit permission.
“Why haven’t you gone after him?” Shaking loose of Drakon’s
hold, Warren went to the sofa and settled down on the cushions beside
the prince. “You’re royalty. Surely you can do something to get him
back.”
“I’m only one man, and I assure you my father has much more
power than I do. The whole city is in his pocket. I can’t bring him
back by myself, and there is no one I can trust to help.”
“You can trust us,” Warren answered immediately. “I honestly
don’t give a damn what happens to you, but I love my brother.
Whatever you need, I’ll do it.”
Drakon’s ingrained need to give Warren whatever he desired only
went so far, though, especially if that desire expressed a serious death
wish. “We can’t just waltz into a camp of Harbingers and demand
they give back your brother, priya.”
“What if we ask them nicely?” Warren smiled sweetly, showing
off his dimples as his eyes crinkled in the corners. “Don’t worry, big
guy. I’ll protect you from the monsters.”
Deep, rumbling laughter reverberated around the room, and Julius
shook his head indulgently at Warren. “Oh, you are definitely related
to my mate. He’s got a smart mouth on him, too.”
Naturally, Warren took the statement as a compliment, sitting up
straighter and preening as he grinned cockily up at Drakon. “I shall
win the war with wit and charm.”
His response only caused Julius to laugh harder until he was
slumped against the cushions and clutching at his sides. “Yes, I
definitely like him.”
“So, you said you were punished?”
That shut Julius up. Sobering immediately, he sat up on the couch
and brushed the wrinkles from his suit. “Yes.” His mouth opened,
revealing beautiful white teeth—with the exception of two. Where his
fangs should have been were only tiny white canines that barely
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peeked through the gums, and Drakon couldn’t stop himself from
wincing. “They’ll grow back, but it will take a while.”
“Is that another reason you can’t fight on your own?” Warren
asked. “I’d guess you’re kind of weak if you haven’t fed in three
months.”
“Very astute, Warren. I want to get Kennedy back as much as you
do, but getting myself killed isn’t going to help anyone.”
“And you’re sure that all the sentries will back your father?
There’s no one loyal to you?”
“None.”
“I might know someone,” Drakon interrupted. “Granted, one
person isn’t going to be a lot of help, but it’s better than nothing.”
Was he seriously considering this, all because he wanted his mate to
be happy and bless him just once more with that gorgeous smile?
Yes, in part, but there was more to it than that. Somehow while he
wasn’t paying attention, Warren had slipped past his defenses.
Suddenly, Warren’s happiness was his own. Warren’s pain was his
own. Drakon didn’t know about the rest of the world, but he tried to
avoid pain as often as possible.
“Really?” Warren’s eager smile brightened his entire face. “You
have some serious mojo, Drakon. I’ll do it without you, but I really
hope I don’t have to. Can’t you do something like you did with the
fog the other night? It would at least create a diversion.”
Resigned to the endeavor whether he liked it or not, Drakon
rubbed at the back of his neck and bobbed his head in acquiescence.
“I have patrol for the rest of the week, and I think it’s best if we
keep everything as normal as possible. Julius, I need to know as much
about the Harbinger camp as you can tell me. If we’re doing this,
we’re doing it my way, and we’re going to be smart about it.”
“I know where the camp is located, and I might have a good idea
where the slaves are being kept.” Julius was all business now, and
Drakon liked that. This wasn’t some game, and he wasn’t going to
risk his life if the prince was going to treat it as such.
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“That’s a good start. Try to find out more, but be discreet about
it.”
“Use me,” Warren blurted. “Set up an offering and use me as
bait.”
“No fucking way. It’s too dangerous.” Did Warren seriously think
he was just going to roll over and agree to something so stupid?
“I agree with Drakon,” Julius added. “What would be the point
anyway? It’s not prison, Warren. You don’t get to make a phone call
after you’re in.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t have to.” There was a speculative look in
Warren’s eyes, and he tilted his head to the side while he fingered the
silver chain of his collar. “I heard a rumor that some paranormals can
communicate telepathically.” His gaze wandered up to Drakon. “Do
you know anyone who can do that? Someone we can trust?”
Yes, he did. Drakon could use telepathy to speak with Warren if
he claimed him. Binding them together as part of a rescue operation
didn’t feel overly romantic, though. “Maybe.”
Warren appeared a little too satisfied with himself, as though he
knew a secret he wasn’t willing to share. He didn’t comment further
about telepathy, though. “Then I guess we have work to do. Julius,
can you meet us here on Saturday at midnight?”
“I’ll be here.” Rising gracefully to his feet, Julius extended his
hand to Warren. “I know you have no reason to trust me, so thank
you.” Then he turned to Drakon, and did the same. “Again, I’m sorry
for being a dick earlier.”
“If anyone finds out that Warren is more than just a pet…” He
trailed off, leaving the threat up to interpretation.
“My lips are sealed. I’ll see you Saturday.”
After walking the prince to the door, Drakon returned to the lower
level to find Warren kneeling in front of the door to his playroom with
nothing on but his collar. Standing in the middle of the room, Drakon
crossed his arms over his chest and quirked one eyebrow. “What are
you doing, priya?”
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“I peeked,” Warren confessed, tilting his head back to indicate the
door behind him. “I was really, really naughty today. What are you
going to do about it?”
* * * *
“What’s your safeword, priya?”
Sprawled facedown over the flogging bench with his wrists
secured to one end and his knees resting on padded stirrups that
spread him open at the other, Warren could barely breathe, let alone
think. “Uh, orange?”
“Are you asking me?” Drakon inquired in amusement.
“No. My safeword is orange.”
“Good boy.”
Cool liquid dribbled down the crease of Warren’s ass, slick and
slippery where Drakon rubbed it over his entrance. Instead of the
finger he’d expected, however, something much bigger nudged
against his fluttering hole with increasing pressure.
“Whoa! Orange, orange, orange!” Warren clenched his ass cheeks
together and pulled at the bindings on his wrist. “What the hell is
that?”
“Easy, priya,” Drakon answered soothingly. His huge hand
palmed one rounded globe and squeezed gently. “It’s just a butt plug.”
“Oh.” Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this, but damn, he wanted to
try. He was really going to have to stop being such a damn loser and
freaking out, though. “Okay. Sorry.”
“This won’t be much fun if you don’t trust me, Warren.” There
was a firmness in Drakon’s voice now that sent shivers down
Warren’s spine. “Only use your safeword if you truly feel you can’t
take anymore. The next time you use it, everything stops. Do you
understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
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“Would you like to use green, yellow, and red instead? If you’re
nervous, it will give you a bit more control without having to call a
halt to everything.”
“No, Sir.” Warren shook his head adamantly. “I can do this.”
“Good boy,” Drakon praised him again. “Deep breath.”
Slipping a hand between Warren’s thighs, he cradled his balls,
weighing them in his palm for a moment before tugging on them
sharply. The bite of pain was nothing compared to the unadulterated
pleasure that raced through Warren’s groin and swelled his cock.
The groan had barely died from his lips when the blunt pressure at
his opening returned. There was no hesitation this time, though, as
Drakon thrust the toy into his channel until the flat, silicone base
nestled snugly against his bottom.
The stretch of his inner walls was overwhelming and the burn
intense, but it only caused his cock to throb harder and pre-cum to
seep from the tip. Drakon’s callused palms slid over his hips and up
his sides as he nibbled moist, open-mouth kisses along Warren’s
spine. They’d barely even started and already, his skin felt
hypersensitive, and each touch had him trembling with unrestrained
desire.
“I’m going to use magic to suck all of the light out of the room. I
can see very well in the dark, Warren, and you’ll be perfectly safe.”
“Yes, Sir.” There was a need in him to address Drakon with the
proper respect due to a Master without actually using the term. If the
man objected to Sir, he’d yet to say anything, so Warren would
continue to use it until he was told otherwise.
As promised, every speck of light vanished from the room,
plunging them into total darkness. After several moment of waiting
for his eyes to adjust, Warren finally gave up when he realized he was
completely and utterly blind until Drakon decided to lift the spell.
Chained to a padded bench with his ass in the air should have
given him some sense of grounding, but Warren was finding the loss
of light to be very disorienting. Perhaps it was because his lover’s
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strong fingers were no longer kneading the flesh around his hips. In
fact, he had no clue where Drakon had disappeared to at all.
There was no disturbance in the air, no muffled footsteps over the
carpeted floor. It had to be another part of the magic, because no one,
especially someone of Drakon’s size, could be that stealthy.
Suddenly, something cold and feathery brushed against the back
of his thighs, causing Warren to gasp in surprise. “This is a suede
flogger,” Drakon explained as he ran the tails up the curve of
Warren’s ass and over his lower back. “It’s nice and soft, good for
your first time.” There was a whoosh of air and those “soft” tails
connected solidly with Warren’s right cheek. “But it still has a nice
sting to it.”
Warren curled his fingers around the chains connected to the
leather straps around his wrist and bit down on his lower lip when the
flogger struck against his ass twice more. Drakon started off slowly,
his swings providing a nice sting that radiated throughout Warren’s
entire body.
As he found his rhythm, the force of his swings increased in
increments. The flogger lashed across the back of Warren’s thighs,
over his butt, and even striking the tops of his hips. The superficial
sting turned into a deep, burning ache, making the muscles in his
thighs quiver against the leather straps that held him to the bench.
Each time his inner walls contracted, it sucked the plug deeper
into his channel and made the end rub against his prostate. His cock
pulsed and ached, flexing madly between his body and the padded
bench beneath him. Though he couldn’t see, Warren could feel the
dampening of his skin with perspiration and smell the musky scent of
his own arousal.
Each strike of suede against his flesh spiked his adrenaline,
leaving him dizzy until he felt he was floating somewhere above
himself. Each lash from the flogger bled into the next, the sound a
continuous snap that seemed to match every second beat of his
thundering pulse.
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Moans and whimpers spilled from his lips to add to the erotic
symphony, though the noises sounded muffled inside the fog that
surrounded his brain. When his balls were tight against his body and
his dick felt like it would snap in two, the tempo slowed, the intensity
decreased, and everything dwindled to a stop.
Light flooded the room again, and Warren blinked several times
as his eyes watered against the sudden brightness. The sound of a
motor whirring to life reached his ears at the same moment he felt the
bench below him begin to move, lifting his ass higher into the air
while his head tilted south.
“You did beautifully, my sweet pet.” There was so much arousal
dripping from Drakon’s voice that Warren could practically feel it.
His lover’s hands landed on either side of his ass, framing it like a
priceless painting as he laved his tongue over the burning flesh.
“Gods, the things you do to me.”
The rasp of a zipper was unusually loud over the sound of
Warren’s panting. The toy was wrenched from his channel and tossed
unceremoniously to the floor where it landed with a muffled thump.
Before Warren could feel too bereft from the emptiness, however,
Drakon thrust inside him with bone-jarring force, burying himself to
the hilt in one, long plunge.
Warren couldn’t have held back his orgasm if he’d tried. Straining
against his bindings, he arched his neck up and screamed to the
heavens as his balls unloaded in a river of thick, hot cream.
Apparently, Drakon was feeling the same mind-numbing lust, because
he surged twice more and tensed, shuddering hard as he released a
volley of cum into Warren’s depths.
Some instinct he couldn’t name swelled inside him, urging him to
tilt his head to the side, offering his neck in complete surrender to the
man on top of him. Whatever drove him must have been riding
Drakon hard as well, because he growled quietly and struck without
hesitation, embedding his sharp canines into the tender flesh.
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Tiny bombs of indescribable pleasure detonated inside him, and
Warren went rigid, screaming once again as another gush of sticky
seed erupted from his cock to splash over the leather bench below
him. Emotions he didn’t understand swarmed him, filling his heart,
pulling at his soul, and causing moisture to bead in the corners of his
eyes.
“Mine. You are mine, and I can’t let you go. Please don’t ever ask
me, because I can’t do it.”
A silly smile pulled at Warren’s lips as he slumped down against
the table, listening to his lover’s voice inside his head. “You’re cute,
but it’s not necessary.” Rolling his head to the side, he winked up at
Drakon. “You’re stuck with me, sweetheart. Besides, where else am I
gonna go?”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“Mmm,” Warren purred. “I like that, but I can think of much more
pleasurable things you can hold me to instead.”
His words had the desired effect, and Drakon’s cock began to
swell inside his ass, rising to life again and stretching Warren wide.
“You are trouble, priya.”
“And you love it.”
“No more talking,” Drakon demanded. “I’d much rather make you
scream.”
And that’s exactly what he did.
Twice.
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Chapter Nine
“You look different.”
“I feel different.”
“You smell different.”
“I feel different,” Drakon repeated with a smile he was sure made
him look like a lovesick fool. “How have you been, man?”
Master Sergeant Craig Grayson cuddled Marcy into the crook of
his arm and mirrored the grin on Drakon’s face. “I can’t complain,
Lieutenant. It’s good to see you, though. You haven’t been around
much lately.”
“I’ve been busy,” Drakon answered with a shrug.
“With your new pet?” Craig’s eyes lit with merriment and
mischief. “Or would he be a bit more than just a pet?”
Lifting his glass to his lips, Drakon sipped at the sweetened tea to
hide yet another smile. “I’m going to guess a little pixie whispered
something into your ear.”
Marcy slapped a hand over her mouth and giggled unrepentantly.
“What was I supposed to do? You two are so stinkin’ cute together I
was going to bust if I didn’t tell someone.”
He could see the description fitting Warren, but no one else but
Marcy would ever use the word “cute” in reference to Drakon. As
long as no one else noticed his vast upswing in mood, he wouldn’t
complain. “I’m afraid this isn’t a social call, Craig. I need your help.”
The atmosphere in the room became serious, and Craig gently
eased Marcy out of his lap so that he could move forward to the edge
of his seat. “What happened? I owe you, Drakon, and if I can help,
you know I’m there.”
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Drakon held his hand up and shook his head. “Hold on to that
thought until you hear what I have to say. I’m asking as a friend, not
your commanding officer. If you say no, that’s that. I won’t hold it
against you and it changes nothing between us.”
“This sounds big. What kind of fucking mess have you gotten
yourself into, Drakon?”
“There was an altercation outside of the registration office a
couple of days ago.” He glanced in Marcy’s direction, but she gave no
indication that she knew what he was referring to. “Warren tried to
attack Prince Julius Marionette.”
Craig appeared appropriately startled and distressed by the news.
“And they didn’t take him? Hell, I’m surprised the guards didn’t
slaughter him right there on the street.”
“They might have if he’d actually been successful. This is where
the whole thing gets complicated.”
“Well, that’s good to hear. I’d hate to think this would be easy.”
Drakon snorted at his friend’s sarcasm but otherwise ignored it.
“The prince came to my house—alone—that same night. As chance
would have it, his mate happens to be Warren’s brother.”
“Mate?” Marcy wiggled forward on the cushions and leaned
toward him eagerly. “Really? Not just a pet, but the prince’s mate?
That’s wonderful. Kennedy looked like such a sweet boy when he
came in for his vaccines.” Like letting the helium out of a balloon, she
seemed to have realized what she’s just said, and she slumped back
with a stricken look. “That is a good thing, isn’t it?”
“It’s a good thing,” Drakon assured her, hating to see her so
distressed. Gods, he still remembered the first time he’d met her just
outside of the city limits, running for her life from a group of
Harbingers. The same protectiveness he’d felt then was still present,
though it was strictly platonic and always would be.
“Oh, thank goodness. The king is so cruel, but Prince Julius was
very polite when he brought Kennedy in.”
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“Well, the king’s cruelty apparently knows no bounds. He
couldn’t permit his heir to mate a mere mortal. He defanged Julius
and giftwrapped Kennedy as a present to the Harbingers.”
Craig winced at the “defanged” comment while Marcy burst into
tears at the mention of Kennedy’s fate. “That’s horrible,” she
whispered through her sniffles. “That poor boy.”
“And you want to go after him,” Craig surmised with a curt nod.
“Warren is beside himself. The prince isn’t much better. Normally
I wouldn’t ask something like this of you, but we’re outnumbered
and—”
“I’ll do it.”
“Yes,” Marcy agreed. “We’ll both help.”
Instead of arguing like Drakon had done with Warren, Craig took
his mate’s tiny hand and brought it to his lips. “That’s why I love
you.”
“That’s it? You’re not even going to discuss it?” Drakon had been
prepared to pull out all the stops to convince his friend, and the guy
was just going to agree without any kind of argument?
“If something happened to Marcy and I asked for your help,
would you need time to discuss it?”
“No,” Drakon replied immediately. “You don’t even know
Warren, though, let alone his brother.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Craig shrugged and settled back against the
cushions. “Things are getting worse every day. If we don’t fight back,
who will?”
“You know you can’t stay in the city if we do this.”
“I think it’s time for us to move on, anyway. Royal guards have
been spending a bit too much time passing by the registration office
lately.” The vampire snarled before quickly composing himself again.
“One of them came in and asked for a list of all registered pets within
the city.”
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“I put in my notice yesterday,” Marcy added. “It’s just a matter of
time before pets start disappearing, and I’m not going to be one of
them.”
“It’s going to be dangerous.”
“Yes, but we can even the odds.” Craig rubbed at the top of his
short, dark hair while he exchanged a look with his mate. “There are
other sentries with mates masquerading as pets. It’s not as uncommon
as the New Order would have you to believe. I know of at least three
who are planning to flee the city within the week.”
“That doesn’t mean they’d be willing to walk right into a
Harbinger camp and risk their lives, though.”
“Let me talk to them. I can’t promise anything, but I think you’ll
be surprised.”
It was more than Drakon had expected when he’d first knocked on
the vampire’s door, and honestly more than he had any right to ask
for. “I’m indebted to you, Craig.”
“Nah.” His friend chuckled and tossed him a wink. “We’ll just
call it even.”
* * * *
“Warren!”
“In here!”
The mouthwatering smells of dinner hit him like a wrecking ball
as he entered the kitchen. Breathing in deeply, he released the breath
on a loud groan and rubbed at his growling stomach. “Smells
fantastic, priya.”
Warren beamed from ear to ear as he set a gorgeous bird on the
table, garnished with colorful, glazed vegetables. “I’ve never cooked
a turkey before, so I hope it tastes as good as it smells.” He cut a
sliver of meat off the breast and bounced over to hold up his offering.
“Open up.”
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Parting his lips, Drakon accepted the bit of turkey, sucking his
mate’s finger into his mouth as well and swirling his tongue around
the digit teasingly. Warren seemed mesmerized by the act, his eyes
wide and glued to Drakon’s mouth.
“Delicious,” Drakon purred. “The turkey isn’t bad, either.”
Shivering visibly, Warren pulled his hand back and shook his
finger at Drakon. “None of that,” he reprimanded. “We are going to
have a nice meal without any funny business, Mister.”
“Your wish, my command.” Drakon bowed dramatically, earning
him an eye roll and a smack to the arm.
“Behave or you’ll get no dessert.”
Drakon didn’t give a rat’s ass about dessert unless it was his mate
naked and covered in chocolate sauce, but he could play nice through
dinner. He guessed he kind of owed it to the guy after the argument
they’d had at breakfast.
“I can add eggs, milk, and sugar to Bisquick and make either
waffles or shortcakes,” Warren had demanded that morning while he
brandished a wooden spoon at Drakon. “So why the hell can’t I have
cake for breakfast? It’s the same thing!”
Honestly, he hadn’t cared what they ate, but he hadn’t been able
to resist teasing. “Stop being such a food slut, Warren. Just because
it’s easy doesn’t make it good for you.”
Then they’d dissolved into imaginative insults until Drakon had
bent his mate over the counter and fucked him until neither of them
could breathe. All in all, it had been a pretty damn good morning.
He’d even relented to having cake for breakfast.
“So how did the meeting go?”
“Craig’s on board and so is Marcy. They might even know some
other sentries that would be willing to join our cause.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.”
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“What about Portia? Do you think she’s going to be a problem?”
Warren shoved a forkful of green beans into his mouth and chewed
quickly while he waited for an answer.
“I think the captain could be trouble if we let her. We aren’t going
to let her.”
“I like the way you think. Are we going to tie her up and stuff her
in the trunk of a car?”
“Are we…” Trailing off, Drakon chuckled under his breath. “No,
we are not going to stuff her in a trunk. I figure a nice little sleeping
spell should do the trick.”
“Oh, well, that’s not nearly as fun.” He shrugged and wiggled
around in his chair, clearly preparing to bombard Drakon with more
questions. “Do you know who the other sentries are?”
“Nope.” Until Warren had come along, Drakon hadn’t any reason
to delve into the everyday lives of those around him. He minded his
own damn business, and in return, he expected the same
consideration.
“Well, I don’t know this Craig guy, but if you trust him, that’s
good enough for me.” They ate in companionable silence for a few
minutes before Warren asked his next question. “Do you think Julius
is playing us?”
It was a question Drakon had asked himself several times. “I don’t
think so. What purpose would it serve? He doesn’t have to resort to
trickery to get what he wants, Warren.”
Warren gave a noncommittal jerk of his head, not looking at all
convinced. Not that Drakon could blame him. His mate was no
stranger to duplicity. Drakon’s captain was proof of that.
“So how many royal families are there?”
“Twenty-seven. Nine in North America.” Drakon was no longer
concerned with revealing too much about his world. It wasn’t supes
against humans anymore. It wasn’t even the good guys versus the bad
guys. As far as Drakon was concerned, it was him and Warren against
everyone, and if people wanted to join with them, all the better.
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“Are they all vampires?”
“The nine on this continent are vampires. The royal shifter
families are in Africa. Werewolves in Europe. The Fae reign over
Asia. The Magicals, like witches, claimed South America, and the
elves rule Australia.”
“What about Antarctica? Aren’t there any royal families there?”
“Sure. Emperor penguins.”
Warren blinked twice and burst into laughter. “Hardy har, asshole.
So, is that why the vampires are top dogs here? I mean, if there are
vampires in Asia, would they be slaves? And if that’s the case, why
don’t all the races just divide up and stick to their own kind?”
“Wow, you plan to take a breath anytime soon?” Drakon poked
fun, but he adored the bubbly personality that shined through the
layers of reservation Warren had once shrouded himself in. “For the
most part, the races do tend to stick to their own. What about
vampires who are mated to werewolves, though? Which continent
should they choose?”
“Yeah, I see your point.” Warren popped another bite into his
mouth and chewed slowly as his eyebrows drew together to form a
shallow V. “So, let’s move to Antarctica.”
“The only blue balls I plan to have are the ones I get from you
teasing me with that sexy ass.” Yeah, freezing his nut sac off was
definitely out of the question.
Warren waggled his eyebrows as he rose from the table and
stripped right there in the middle of the kitchen. “One set of blue balls
coming right up.”
“What? Wait. No! That’s not what I said.”
Backing slowly out of the kitchen, Warren rubbed one hand over
his flexing abs and gripped his hardening cock. “Then come and get
me.”
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Chapter Ten
“Oh, it’s always so good to see you.” Marcy hugged him hard and
pinched his nipple.
Warren yelped and jumped backward, laughing at her playfulness.
“Damn, you’re a feisty one.”
“And don’t I know it.” A mountain of a man entered the front
door behind Marcy and thrust his hand out for Warren to shake.
“Craig Grayson. You must be the troublemaker I’ve heard so much
about.”
His tone was jovial, and he was smiling, so Warren took it as the
joke it was meant to be. “Thank you, sir. I do try where I can.”
“Oh, he’s a cutie,” another woman cooed from the porch.
“He is quite dashing,” the man beside her whispered in a subtle
accent.
“Yes, yes, we can all ooh and ah over my mate once we get
inside.” Seemed the green-eyed monster had gotten ahold of Drakon,
and he didn’t appear to be handling it very well.
Warren, on the other hand, found it kind of sexy. Who knew he
was such a hot commodity? He wasn’t going to lie. It was a pretty
amazing feeling.
Once they were all gathered in the downstairs sitting room with
everyone curled on the sofas or sitting on the floor, Craig started
making the introductions. It was purely for Warren’s benefit since
everyone else already seemed to know one another at least by sight.
“Sergeant Mason Hunt.” He motioned toward a beefy man with
blond, military-cut hair. “Beside him is his mate Jenna.” The cute
redhead with big blue eyes waved cheerily at him.
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“Over there on the floor is Mason’s brother, Corporal Jacob Hunt,
and Jacob’s mate, Laylan Mitchum.” Laylan wiggled his fingers in
greeting while his mate simply nodded in Warren’s direction. “And,
of course, you all know Prince Julius.”
“Please,” the prince interrupted quietly, “call me Julius, no title.”
“Okay, so we all know each other, and we all know why we’re
here.” Drakon paced the small area of open floor near the far wall.
“Does anyone have any questions?” No one seemed to, so he turned it
over to Julius.
Rolling a map out on the coffee table, the prince pointed to a
large, red circle. “This is the city.” His finger dragged across the
paper to a small circle. “This is the Harbinger camp. It’s
approximately six miles from the city limits. The last mile is dense
forests, so we’ll have to go in on foot.”
“Do we know where they’re keeping the slaves?” Warren asked,
rising up on his knees to get a better look at the map. “How many
Harbingers are in this camp?”
“It’s a small group, only about twenty-five or so. The shelters are
nothing more than huts and lean-tos, and they’re grouped close
together. The slaves are kept in the center of the camp and guarded
twenty-four hours a day.”
Warren was impressed by the amount of information Julius had
been able to find. “How do you know all of this?”
“I mind-raped one of the guards,” Julius answered without even
glancing in Warren’s direction.
He said it so casually that Warren found himself bobbing his head
as though that made perfect sense. “Wait. What?”
Chuckles and giggles went around the group, and Julius reached
across the table to ruffle Warren’s hair. “I compelled one of the
sentries to tell me what he knows.”
“Okay,” Drakon said over the chatter in the room. “We need
provisions for at least three days. That means water, food, and
medical supplies. We need to move fast, but we also need to move in
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secret. No vehicles. It’s nearly twenty miles to the base of the
mountains, and it won’t be an easy hike. If anyone is having second
thoughts, now is the time to speak up.”
The authority dripping from Drakon’s voice was incredibly
arousing, and Warren found himself hanging on every word with rapt
attention. His lover had patrol later, and in the interest of saving time,
had already donned his uniform, complete with skin-tight black T-
shirt that molded to every rippling muscle like a second skin.
It seemed no one had plans of backing out, because the room was
utterly quiet except for the sounds of soft breathing and rustling fabric
as people shifted around in their seats.
“The Harbingers are savage and fearless, but they’re not stupid,”
Drakon continued. “Feral monsters with the power of strategic
thinking are about as dangerous as it gets. We get in, get the slaves,
and get out.”
“What is your plan, Prince Julius?” Marcy asked. “What will you
do once you get your mate back?”
Julius looked her right in the eyes when he answered. “Run like
hell and not look back.”
“What about weapons?” Warren, Jenna, and Laylan didn’t have
natural weapons like speed, strength, claws, or even magic. Even if he
had such abilities, Warren would rather fight long distance than up
close and personal.
“Do you want loud and in your face? Or quiet and subtle?” Jacob
shared a look with his brother, and they both grinned like little boys
on Christmas morning. “If you can buy us about four minutes, me and
Mason can get you whatever you need from the armory.”
“I can take care of the medical supplies,” Laylan added eagerly. “I
volunteer at the hospital on weekends.”
“Me and Jenna can gather the water and food for everyone,”
Marcy volunteered.
“Great!” Warren exclaimed, excited they were one step closer to
reclaiming his brother and their freedom. “What can I do?”
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“You,” Drakon drawled, “are our secret weapon, priya. I don’t
like it, and if you get yourself killed, I’m going to be very unhappy.
However, Craig was kind enough to point out that you are an adult
and can make your own decisions.”
“So, I’m going to be bait?” It sounded too good to be true. Not the
part where he was sticking his neck out to a bunch of blood-hungry
beasts, but the part where Drakon was actually going to trust him to
know his limitations. He really wished he knew what Craig had said
to convince his mate, because Warren could really use some pointers.
“Yes,” Drakon agreed tightly. “You will do everything I say and
exactly how I say it, though. If I say run, you run. If I say hide, you do
it. If I say—”
“I got it, Drakon. I don’t wipe my ass unless you approve it.”
Drakon’s features darkened. Laylan slapped a hand over his
mouth as his eyes went as big around as saucers. Mason and Jacob
looked shocked speechless at Warren’s outburst. Craig and Julius,
however, howled with laughter, both rocking back and forth in their
amusement.
“You two aren’t helping.” The frustrated look on Drakon’s
handsome face softened, but only marginally. “I’m serious, Warren.
This isn’t a game.”
“I know, Drakon. You’ve never had to fight you, though. I spent
almost a year staying alive by keeping off the radar of many yous.
And believe me, your kind—paranormals as it were—aren’t easy to
hide from. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it better than anyone.”
Rising from the carpet, he crossed the room to his lover and took both
of Drakon’s hands in his own. “I can do this.”
Winding his long arms around Warren’s shoulders, Drakon pulled
him close and rested his chin on the top of his head. “It doesn’t matter
how fast or smart you are, Warren. I’m always going to worry about
you.”
“You think I don’t worry about you?” Warren felt like the most
selfish person alive for asking any of these people to charge into the
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fire for him. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I need you to trust
me.”
“I understand better than you think.”
“We all do,” Craig added in his mellow baritone. “We’ve all lost
people we care about, Warren.”
“My whole family died when the virus struck,” Laylan whispered.
“I’d give anything to get them back.”
“My family as well,” Jenna said around a sniffle. “Two weeks
ago, my best friend disappeared. I’m positive the Harbingers have
him.”
“My father was one of those mutated by the virus. He slaughtered
my mother and two of my siblings.” There was so much sadness in
Marcy’s eyes that Warren felt his chest constrict and a lump swell in
his throat. “I don’t know what happened to the rest of my family.”
“We’ve all been hurt by the New Order,” Mason said gruffly. “I
say it’s time we fight back.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Julius sighed and dropped his head. “I
am truly sorry to all of you for what my family and the other royals
have done. How do I even begin to make it right?”
“Prove to us that we can trust you,” Warren answered. “Prove that
you’re not like the rest of them. I figure that’s a good place to start.”
* * * *
“Is there something you have to say?”
“Such as?” It has been a long night of patrol, and Drakon
desperately wanted to crawl into bed without any sort of
confrontation.
“I mean about the part where you told me humans were treated
with respect. I had a lot of time to think while you were at work. After
the stories I heard last night, the only conclusion I can come to is that
it was total bullshit.”
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“Actually, I said the pleasure slaves were treated with respect.
Most of them tend to be elves or other fae.” His sarcasm wasn’t going
to win him any points, but Drakon was just too damn tired. His nerves
were fried from constant worry about the mission they would be
undertaking the next night. Yeah, he was a cranky bastard, but he felt
he kind of had the right.
“Cut the crap, Drakon. Why did you lie to me?”
Stripping out of his uniform, Drakon tossed the clothes toward the
hamper, not even caring that they landed on the floor rather than
hitting their mark. “I didn’t lie to you. Hell, you’ve seen it with your
own eyes, Warren. Look, I don’t much give a damn about humans one
way or another. I don’t give a damn about anyone. Just because the
royal family is a bunch of soulless monsters doesn’t mean the rest of
us are.”
“So, you could care less about humans, yet you treat us with
kindness? How does that even make sense?”
Why the fuck were they having this argument? “Are you even
listening to me? I don’t give a fuck about sheep, either. That doesn’t
mean I’d go out and butcher them just for sport, though. I look out for
me, Warren. That’s how I’ve stayed alive for four hundred years. You
should know a little bit about that. If people—no matter what race
they are—treat me with respect, I’ll return the favor.”
“If you only care about yourself, why are you risking your neck
and giving up everything to help me?”
Crawling under the blankets, Drakon threw his arm over his eyes
to block out the light and groaned. “Because you’re mine.”
“That’s not a reason.”
“Because you’re my mate, Warren. It’s my job to take care of
you.”
“It’s not your job to march into hostile territory and rescue my
brother. Try again.”
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Flinging his arm away from his face, Drakon bolted upright in bed
and growled. “Why are you trying to pick a fight? What the hell do
you want me to say, Warren?”
Warren crossed his arms over his chest and glared. “I want you to
tell me the truth. Why are you willing to help me if you don’t care
about anyone?”
“Because I care about you!” Drakon shouted. “I care if you’re
happy. It hurts me, Warren. It hurts me to see you sad. I’m doing it
because I know you’ll do it anyway and end up getting yourself
killed. I’m doing it because I love you and it would fucking kill me if
anything happened to you!”
A bright, triumphant smile slowly stretched across Warren’s face
until he was beaming from ear to ear. Uncrossing his arms from his
chest, he sauntered naked toward the bed, looking cocky as hell and
good enough to eat. “There’s the ticket.”
“You tricked me.” The little shit had planned the whole damn
thing. He’d purposely started the argument and goaded Drakon until
he’d exploded. So, why was he smiling just as widely as Warren?
“Did not.” Prowling up the mattress, Warren whipped the blankets
back and settled himself in Drakon’s lap, straddling his hips so that
their semi-erect cocks rubbed together. “I just gave you a little
nudge.”
“Why?” His head was starting to swim, and all Drakon could
think about was getting inside his mate’s delectable ass.
“You’re not as hard as you like to pretend, sweetheart. Oh, I have
no doubt that you can kick ass with the best of them, but there’s more
to you than a soldier.” His tongue darted out and licked up the curve
of Drakon’s throat. “Did you know I have rules?”
“Rules?” His heart was pounding against his sternum, and each
breath was a struggle to suck into his lungs. “What rules?”
“Rules for surviving this new world,” Warren mumbled as he
nipped at the flesh over his collarbone, causing Drakon’s cock to jerk.
“The first rule is to accept the impossible.”
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Gods, he was trying so hard to follow along, but Warren really
wasn’t making sense to him anymore. “And did you?” That was a
good response, right? How the hell was he supposed to think with
those plump lips on him and Warren rubbing against him like a bitch
in heat?
“Mm, I definitely did. See, I thought it was impossible that I could
ever fall in love with a paranormal. Last night when you stood up in
front of everyone and vowed to always be in my corner, I had to
accept that impossibility. I am totally, utterly, head over feet in love
with you, Drakon Rhinegold.”
That last sentence pierced through his lust-induced haze, settling
into his heart and wrapping around his soul. Not since he’d been a
small boy had anyone ever told him he was loved. A cynical part of
him argued that it was too fast. Neither of them should be feeling
those kinds of emotions, and it was all just a fabrication caused by
their mating bond and a healthy sex life.
The much larger part of him, the part that would lay down his life
for Warren, smacked him upside the head for being a damn idiot. Fate
had thrust them together for a reason, and he’d be one ungrateful
bastard to spit on the gift he’d been given.
Despite his general indifference for the human race, he’d found
his soul mate in a mortal. Warren was everything that made life worth
living, and all the things Drakon hadn’t even known he’d been
missing. Passionate, loyal, kind, selfless, and courageous, Warren
embodied all the qualities Drakon admired. What further proof did he
need that this was right?
“Warren, stop.” He gripped his mate by the shoulders and eased
him up into a sitting position so he could see into his deep brown
eyes. “I think there’s something you need to know.” He didn’t think it
would change anything between them, but it was definitely going to
have an impact on his lover. Still, it was a secret Warren had a right to
know.
“What is it?”
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“This doesn’t change the way I feel about you. I love you more
than anything, priya, but you need to know why the humans aren’t
trusted.”
“We’re arrogant, self-destructive, egotistical, selfish assholes,”
Warren replied with a cheeky grin. “You might have mentioned it a
time or two.”
Drakon smiled back, but his heart wasn’t really in it. “Well, there
is that.” Cradling Warren’s delicate cheeks in both hands, he pulled
the man to him and brushed their lips together softly. “We didn’t
unleash the virus, Warren. The humans did.”
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Chapter Eleven
“Everyone knows the plan. I’ll go with Mason and Jacob to the
armory. Julius will take Warren to the edge of the camp. Since he’s
the prince, I don’t think the Harbingers will suspect anything. Craig
and Marcy will take the others and stash the supplies at the edge of
the city.” Drakon glanced around the room, meeting each person’s
eyes. “We leave out in twenty minutes.”
It was finally time. To say he was nervous would be a horrible
understatement, but Warren was ready. He and Drakon had gone over
the plan until he could probably execute the entire thing in his sleep.
“Warren, come with me.”
Obeying without hesitation, he followed Drakon up the stairs and
into their private bathroom. He’d grown spoiled during the two weeks
he’d spent in the house. Going back to scraping by and forgoing
showers was going to suck. He just hoped like hell that they’d find the
free settlement rumored to be on the other side of the mountains.
“How are you feeling?”
“Scared but ready,” Warren answered honestly.
Drakon started the shower and adjusted the temperature before
turning and undressing Warren. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yeah, I kind of do.” Kennedy was depending on him. Plus, like
Mason had said, it was time they fought back. “Why are we taking a
shower?”
“You can’t smell like me.” Drakon’s reasoning was lost on
Warren, because the man was stripping out of his own clothing and
stepping into the shower ahead of him.
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He didn’t give a shit, though. Stepping into the stall, he slid the
glass door closed and pressed himself against his lover’s chest. “I
think we’re doing it wrong.”
The rumble in Drakon’s chest brought a smile to his face as the
man’s laughter echoed around the bathroom. “Does that mouth of
yours ever stop?”
“Let’s find out?” Licking his lips seductively, Warren slid to the
tiled floor, making sure to rub against Drakon the whole way down.
Once on his knees, he gripped the base of his lover’s engorged cock
and swirled his tongue around the head.
They didn’t have much time, certainly not enough for a lengthy
foray, but he was determined to make every second count. Flexing his
fingers, he worked the lower half of the length through his fist while
he stretched his lips around the dripping crown. Establishing his
rhythm, he bobbed his head and pumped his hand so that the two met
at the halfway point every time.
It took only seconds for Drakon to moan and grab Warren by the
back of his skull. His hips flexed, rocking back and forth as he thrust
his cock in and out of Warren’s mouth. Releasing his hold at the root,
Warren relaxed his jaw and closed his eyes, allowing the man to take
his pleasure.
Two shallow thrusts followed by one long one that pushed
Drakon’s dick to the back of his throat. Over and over, his mate kept
the same tempo until his thighs began to tremble and his hold on
Warren’s hair tightened. His head fell back on his shoulders, a low
groan rolled from his lips, and he grabbed Warren by the shoulder as
he released a stream of salty semen into his mouth.
Gulping down his lover’s essence, Warren was careful not to miss
a single drop. When he’d milked the last bit of cream from Drakon’s
prick, he released the shaft, giving the head one final lick. “Better?”
In answer, Drakon grabbed him under the arms, lifted him off his
feet, and pressed Warren’s back to the wall. His big hand surrounded
Warren’s aching erection, pumping hard and fast, jerking his cock in a
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blur of movement. His canines lengthened, and his onyx eyes flashed
with a mysterious light.
Primal chuffing sounds rumbled through his chest, somewhere
between a purr and a grunt. “Come for me, priya.”
Bucking his hips, Warren buried his face into the side of Drakon’s
neck to muffle his cries when his orgasm slammed into him, coating
his lover’s hand with his release. “Why didn’t you bite me?” He asked
through panted breaths. “I know you wanted to.”
“Yes, I did, but I can’t. It would put you in too much danger to
have a fresh mating mark.”
Warren knew there was a difference between a bite to feed and a
bite to claim. He just didn’t fully grasp what that difference was.
Either way, he didn’t have time to debate it just then. “Okay, let’s get
me clean.”
Drakon placed him on his feet and reached for the shampoo. “My
philosophy has always been not to try and fix something that isn’t
broken, but…”
“But?”
“Are you really okay with what I told you?”
“You mean about the humans releasing the virus?” Warren closed
his eyes and shrugged, trying not to moan like a cheap whore at the
feel of Drakon’s soapy fingers in his hair. “Does it really matter who
did it? The outcome is still the same.”
There had been a bit of shock at first, but it was done and over
with. Nothing he could say or do would change it. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Drakon sounded less than convinced, however.
“Do you know why? Was it an accident? And how did you find
out?”
“No, it wasn’t an accident, but it wasn’t supposed to go down the
way it happened, either. The paranormals and humans have been
warring in secret for thousands of years. The vampires and
werewolves wanted power. The humans wanted to eradicate us all.”
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“How on earth do you keep something like that a secret?” Warren
grabbed the sponge from the shelf, soaped it, and began cleansing
Drakon’s chest.
“The best place to hide is in the open. The history books are filled
with plagues, wars, and massacres. The facts are just skewed.”
It was sad that information like that barely fazed him anymore.
“Okay. Continue.”
“I’m not a scientist, but basically, the virus was supposed to attack
an extra gene that all paranormals have.”
“And they didn’t think it would be a good idea to test this before
just releasing it into the air?”
“Actually, they did. Unfortunately, they did it in a controlled
environment. No one accounted for outside contamination once it was
airborne. The result is all around us.”
“Holy shit.” It wasn’t an eloquent sentiment, but what else was he
supposed to say? “So, after humans started dropping like flies, the
supes seized the opportunity to take over.”
“You got it.”
Warren didn’t know if he should scream, cuss, or apologize. In the
end, he decided on none of those things. He hadn’t been the one to
send things into the shitter, and nor had he endeavored to take over
the world. However it happened, whoever was to blame, Warren’s
main objective was still the same. Keep those he trusted close and
stay alive.
* * * *
“Are you ready for this?”
Warren looked up at Julius and beamed. “Not at all. Let’s do it.”
“You only have to keep your ass intact for about forty minutes.
I’ll try to stall as long as I can, but I can’t stay with you.”
“I know, Julius. We’re wasting time. Come on.”
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The trek through the dense trees was creepy, filled with sounds
that made Warren’s skin crawl. The night was hot and humid, the sky
heavy with the impending threat of rain. Thunder rolled in the
distance, giving the entire forest a vibe right out of a horror movie.
Warren wasn’t sure how long they’d been walking when he
spotted the flickering amber light of flames ahead of them. The closer
they got to the fire, the quieter it became, as though time itself held its
breath.
The trees began to part, opening up to a small, dirt path,
illuminated on either side by a row of burning torches. Julius stopped
at the mouth of the trail and looped his fingers around Warren’s
elbow, tugging him to a halt as well. “Do not say a word.”
“You are brave to come here,” a hoarse, raspy voice called to
them. The sound was terrifying, and Warren shivered right down to
the worn soles of his boots.
“I am Prince Julius Marionette, and I come with an offering.”
Four, tall, slender men stepped out from the trees and onto the
path in front of them. Their skin was sickly white, drawn tight over
protruding bones, and covered only by scraps of material. Long,
stringy blond hair fell past their shoulders, matted with dirt and other
things Warren would rather not contemplate.
Dark circles surrounded their piercing blue eyes, covering both
upper and lower lids. Lips as black as coal stretched into what might
be considered a smile, and Warren seriously thought he was going to
piss himself.
“Warren, what’s wrong? What happened?”
“Nothing,” Warren answered his mate through their telepathic
bond. “These things are just seriously creepy.”
“Blond?”
“Yep.”
“Yeah, those are the fae. They’re the worst, but don’t
underestimate the others. We’re leaving the armory now, and the
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captain is taking a nice, long siesta. Hang in there, Warren. I’m
heading your way.”
“Be careful.”
“You, too.”
After that, Warren tuned back into the conversation taking place
between Julius and the fae who appeared to be the leader. “Leave him
and go,” the creature said in his snakelike voice.
“The city shall come to no harm now.” Julius spoke with a calm
authority that Warren envied. “You have your sacrifice.”
The leader was quiet for a long time before he finally nodded.
“We accept your offering.”
Without so much as a sideways glance, Julius pushed Warren
toward the Harbingers and disappeared back into the trees, too fast for
Warren’s eyes to follow. “Bring the human,” the leader commanded,
and Warren was immediately seized and tossed over the shoulder of
one of the underlings.
The journey to the Harbinger camp was a short one, and they
came to a stop beside a roaring fire much sooner than Warren had
expected. “Put him with the others and begin preparations for the
storm.”
Drakon had told him the Harbingers were intelligent and
organized, but Warren had stubbornly clung to the idea of something
that vaguely resembled mindless zombies. Well, shame on him,
because these creatures may be without a moral compass, but they
certainly weren’t stupid.
Deposited on his ass inside a small, dark hut, Warren rubbed at his
bruised backside and blinked several times, trying to make his eyes
focus in the dim light. The primitive shack, constructed of branches,
leaves, and mud, was no larger than the bedroom he shared with
Drakon, but he could distinctly make out the shapes of several bodies
huddled in the corner.
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Crawling on his hands and knees, he approached the group
slowly, straining his eyes to count the number of bodies pressed
together. “I can’t be sure, but I think there are eight of them.”
“Is your brother one of them?” Drakon’s voice asked inside his
head.
“Kennedy? It’s Warren. Kennedy, are you here?”
A figure emerged from the horde of bodies, crouching low as he
came closer. “Warren?”
Tears sprang to Warren’s eyes, but he blinked rapidly, refusing to
let them fall. “Yeah, it’s me.”
“Warren.” Kennedy leapt into his arms, tackling him back to the
ground in a hug that knocked the breath out of him. “Oh, my God.
What are you doing here? I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
“I’ll explain later.” Warren crushed his brother to him for a long
moment before gently easing him away. “We’re getting out of here.”
He glanced toward the other captives in the corner. “We’re all getting
out of here.”
“How? Warren, there’s no way out. They’ll catch us.”
“When do the guards change?”
“Do I look like I have a fucking watch?”
Well, that was incredible unhelpful. “Cut the sarcasm, Kennedy,”
Warren whispered harshly. “And keep your voice down.”
“Sunrise, sunset, and about halfway between each,” a voice
whispered from the corner.
“Uh.” Warren’s brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to
work it out in his head. The guards changed at sunrise, at sunset,
and… “So halfway between night and day, and then halfway between
day and night?”
“Yes,” Kennedy answered.
“There’s a storm coming, though.” Peeking through the opening
of the hut, Warren could see people running around the camp, rushing
back and forth in front of the fire. “There’s no guard here now.”
“They’re always watching,” Kennedy whispered.
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Warren ruffled his brother’s dirty hair and grinned. “That’s what
I’m counting on.”
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Chapter Twelve
Using his gifts as a Rakshasa, Drakon sent a thick, blinding fog
into the camp, making the clouds darken and roll as they reached
upward above the lower tree branches. With the coming storm, the
Harbingers needed everyone in camp, leaving the path through the
forest clear for him and the others.
“What’s happening?”
“What is this?”
“Who’s there?”
Giving the rest of his group time to fan out into the trees, Drakon
took the opportunity to don his own camouflage. Instead of the thick
leaves and dense underbrush, however, his disguise was meant to be
seen. As the magic washed through him, transforming his appearance
into that of the enemy, he lifted the fog and strolled right through the
camp as though he belonged there.
The Harbingers seemed confused by the sudden weather
phenomenon, but after only a brief hesitation, they returned to their
chores, building up the fire and securing their homes against the rains.
Drakon spent a few minutes pretending to be busy while slowly
making his way toward the hut that held his mate’s scent.
Once within reaching distance of the entrance, he threw his head
back and yelled. “Intruders!”
Arrows flew through the night, striking several of the Harbingers,
but it only slowed them. Julius and Craig dropped from overhead
branches, both hitting their targets as they landed on the backs of their
enemies. Mason and Jacob sprang from the surrounding forest, both
nearly seven feet of growling, snarling, werewolf form.
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Ducking his head into the hut, Drakon flinched back and winced
at the screams that met his appearance. “Shut up and move it!” he
barked.
“Drakon?” Warren was the first one out, dragging a half-naked
man behind him. “That look so does not suit you, love.”
“We’ll discuss my fashion sense later. Let’s go.” Pushing his
matted blond hair back from his face, Drakon ducked into the hut and
began forcing the other captives outside. He couldn’t blame them for
being scared, but they really didn’t have time for hysterics.
His comrades were doing a fine job of slowing down the
Harbingers, but they were still outnumbered. He’d already exhausted
a lot of energy with the fog and then his transformation, but he dug
deep, calling on his last reserves, and blanketing the clearing in total
darkness.
Vampires and werewolves had excellent night vision. The fae and
elves, not so much. He wouldn’t be able to hold the spell for long, but
with any luck, it would be enough to get them into the cover of the
forest.
While the Harbingers stumbled around in the blackness, Drakon’s
team assembled around him, taking the captives in twos and ushering
them silently along the path that would lead them through the forest
and back to the outskirts of the city.
“I’ll get Marcy, Jenna, and Laylan,” Craig whispered into his ear.
“We’ll meet you at the turn off on Hickory Road.”
“Watch your back,” Drakon replied, his voice no louder than a
breath.
Leading his mate and a man he assumed was the infamous
Kennedy along the path, he could feel his power draining, his energy
slowly ebbing away. Gritting his teeth, he strained to keep the
darkness enchantment in place, hoping to buy Craig a few extra
seconds to get to safety.
By the time they reached the last set of torches on the path,
Drakon was barely standing, pushing himself forward by sheer will.
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The last bit of magic drained out of him, lifting the enchantment at the
camp and changing him back to his usual appearance.
The frustrated cries of the Harbingers rose in volume, becoming
fierce battle cries that carried over the distance. “Run!” He shoved
Warren and Kennedy ahead of him, placing himself between them
and any approaching danger as they darted into the trees.
“Where am I going?” Warren ducked a jutting limb and glanced
over his shoulder.
“Keep going until you reach the road. Follow it to the south.
There will be a car waiting.”
By luck or some divine intervention, they reached the gravel road
without any hindrance. “How much farther?” Kennedy panted and
clutched at his ribs, clearly struggling to keep up the pace.
“There’s a turnoff just around the curve. Keep moving.”
“Come on, Kennedy,” Warren taunted. “I’ll race you.” Turning on
a burst of speed, he darted ahead, putting too much distance between
them for Drakon’s liking.
The headlights of the dark gray SUV shone brightly ahead, the
engine idling and prepared to leave the minute Drakon and his wards
were safely inside.
“Ha!” Warren shouted over his shoulder, even turning to
backpedal so he could properly gloat. “I win!”
A flash of white streaked through the air as a Harbinger exploded
from the nearby trees, catching Warren around the waist and sending
them both rolling across the street. Before Drakon’s brain had fully
processed what had just happened, the fae screeched like some
gigantic bird and buried his razor sharp teeth into the delicate flesh of
Warren’s throat.
Propelled forward by a blind, all-consuming rage, Drakon roared
as he charged the fae. Inch-long canines pushed through his gums,
and his fingernails lengthened into dagger-like talons that dripped
with deadly venom.
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The first swipe of claws raked across the Harbinger’s back,
pulling a scream from his lips that forced him to release his hold on
Warren. The next thrust of talons pierced his shoulder as the creature
reared up and snapped his jaws at Drakon’s face. More worried about
his mate than about doling out punishment, Drakon slammed his fist
against the Harbinger’s temple, knocking him unconscious.
Carefully lifting Warren into his arms, he cradled his lover’s
smaller body to his chest and sprinted for the vehicle, leaving the fae
in the street, knowing the poison from his claws would do the rest.
“Go!” he ordered as he ripped off his shirt and pressed the fabric
to the side of Warren’s bleeding neck. “Hold on, Warren. Stay with
me.” He turned his gaze on Julius. “The others?”
“Left with the captives in a separate car. They’re about five
minutes ahead of us.”
Two loud thumps banged against the roof as the SUV swerved
dangerously close to the edge of the road. Pale white fists pounded
against the back windows, but it was the sound of breaking glass that
drew Drakon’s attention to the windshield.
A raven-haired Harbinger—an elf—clung to the dashboard,
dragging himself through the shattered windshield as he snarled at
Mason and Jacob. “Fuck! What do I do?” Mason demanded from the
driver’s seat.
“Keep driving!” Jacob yelled as his size twelve boot connected
squarely with the elf’s face, sending him rolling off the side of the
hood.
Careening and fishtailing down the gravel road, Mason did his
damndest to shake the two Harbingers on the roof, but to no avail.
“Hold this.” Drakon grabbed Layland’s hand and pressed it to the
cotton covering Warren’s wound. “Mason, open the sunroof.”
Long, spindly fingers reached into the cab as the sunroof slid
back, and Drakon grabbed the boney wrist, jerking downward. There
was a thump, a shriek, more thumps, and then the sight of a fae rolling
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over the road behind them. The last one wasn’t as stupid as his
brethren, but he definitely wasn’t giving up, either.
Sticking his head up through the opening, Drakon dropped back
down immediately when wicked claws slashed toward his face. He
did it twice more, feeling like he was playing some bizarre game of
Whac-A-Mole. On the fourth time, he shoved his arm through the
sunroof, hissing at the burn when the elf clawed at his forearm.
Distracted by the cat and mouse with Drakon, the Harbinger
missed Jacob crawling through the window and sucker punching him
in the side of the head. More thumping ensued, and they were finally
safe for the time being.
Returning his attention to his mate, Drakon pulled Warren into his
lap and rocked him carefully. “Open your eyes, priya. Come on, baby,
stay with me.” Removing the wadded up T-shirt, he pressed his
bleeding wrist to the mangled flesh of Warren’s wound, squeezing his
forearm to encourage more blood flow.
“We’re almost to the warehouse,” Jacob informed him. “We’ll
have to go on foot from there.”
“I know!” Drakon snapped. “Do what you have to. I’ll stay at the
warehouse with Warren until he can travel.”
“I’m staying, too,” Kennedy piped up from Julius’s lap. “This is
my fault, and I’m not leaving him.”
“Go with your mate,” Drakon argued. “We’ll find you.”
“No,” Kennedy said stubbornly. “Warren risked his life for me.
I’m not going anywhere without him.”
“Kennedy,” Julius began in a soft, placating tone.
“No!” Kennedy yelled right into the prince’s face.
“Would everyone please stop screaming? I feel like my head is
going to explode.”
Closing his eyes briefly, Drakon sent up a silent prayer of
gratitude to whatever deity was listening. “You scared the hell out of
me, priya.”
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Warren smiled weakly as he nuzzled his cheek over Drakon’s bare
chest. “How do you think I felt?”
“Cut it out, Warren. I thought my heart was going to jump out of
my chest.”
The little brat just continued to smile. “Yes, sir.”
“We’re here,” Mason announced as he pulled the vehicle to a stop.
Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Drakon kissed the
top of Warren’s head and opened his door. “Let’s go. We need to put
as much distance between us and the city as we can before sunrise.”
“Everyone grab as much as you can,” Mason added. “Some of the
captives looked in bad shape, so I’m not sure how much they can
carry.”
“Do we have aspirin?” Warren asked, pressing a hand to his
temple.
“Yeah, we have aspirin.” And if not, he would kick down the door
of the nearest pharmacy to get it. Warren had shown more courage
and tenacity than Drakon had any right to ask of him. Whatever he
wanted, Drakon would make it happen.
* * * *
Warren’s feet hurt, his back ached, and something in his pack was
digging into his hip. His neck still felt tender, but Drakon’s blood had
healed the jagged wound caused by the Harbinger’s teeth. Though he
felt like a big pile of warmed-up shit, Warren kept his complaints to
himself. They were alive. What more could he ask for?
“Do you really think there’s a free camp past the mountains?”
Kennedy fell into step beside him with Julius on his other side.
The vampire prince hadn’t let Kennedy out of arm’s reach since
leaving the warehouse. Warren approved. A few weeks ago, he’d
have been horrified at the idea of his baby brother being mated to a
vampire, but things were different now. Warren was different.
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“I don’t know, Kennedy. I hope so, but who’s to say? Maybe it’s
better. Maybe it’s more of the same.”
“Well, at least we’re together.”
Bumping his shoulder against his brother’s, Warren nodded his
agreement. “My thoughts exactly.”
“Soooo…” Kennedy drew the word out and trailed off, waggling
his eyebrows as he glanced between Warren and Drakon. “What’s up
with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerous?”
“He’s my mate.”
“No shit. I want details.”
“You’re looking right at him.” Warren rolled his eyes
dramatically. “What else do you want to know?”
“Is he good in the sack?”
Drakon stumbled as he began to cough and choke. “Seriously?”
Warren ignored him. “Yes,” he said in answer to his brother’s
question.
“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?” His eyes traveled up
and down Drakon. “I bet he has a big cock.”
“Like a fucking two-by-four,” Warren agreed.
His poor mate looked like he was going to have a stroke, while
Julius had most of his fist crammed into his mouth as he tried to
muffle his laughter.
“Well, that doesn’t sound very pleasant at all, sweetie,” Marcy
quipped from behind them.
“Hey, do you hear me complaining?”
“I bet Julius has a big dick,” Kennedy mused. “I haven’t seen it
yet, of course, but I just have a feeling. I mean, look at him.” He
jerked his thumb toward his mate while he winked mischievously at
Warren.
Like that, the tables were turned. Julius blushed clear to the tips of
his ears, and Drakon howled with unrestrained laughter. Damn, it felt
good to have his brother back. Before his disappearance, there hadn’t
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been much occasion to joke around, but they’d managed to keep their
spirits up.
No matter the situation, Kennedy had always been able to make
him laugh. Even then, when he felt like he’d been put through the
wringer, wild horses couldn’t have dragged the smile off his face.
“How much farther until we stop?” The sky had already begun to
lighten in the east, and it felt like they’d been walking for days rather
than hours.
He was wet from the storm, tired, hungry, and his eyes felt like
someone had poured sand in them. His boots were soaked from
sloshing through puddles, and he was positive there were blisters the
size of Alaska on his feet.
The men and women they’d rescued from the Harbinger camp had
held up better than he’d expected, though they mostly kept to
themselves and rarely spoke. Warren thought one of them even
looked like the old leader of the rogues, Arizona. The guy didn’t
speak to him or acknowledge him, though, so he just shrugged it off
as a case of mistaken identity.
Marcy had been able to find the freed captives extra clothes that
were close to their sizes, and Jenna had even outfitted them all with
hiking boots. When it came to preparedness, those chicks had it down
to a science.
“We made good time,” Drakon said, looking toward the
mountains in the distance. “We can rest here for the day.”
Warren was so happy he slung his backpack to the ground and fell
on top of it in an exhausted heap. Drakon, however, snorted as he
shook his head. “I didn’t mean this exact spot.”
“What’s wrong with here?”
Drakon made a show of glancing around the closely packed trees
and arched an eyebrow. “Where do you propose we set up the tents?”
“Tents shments. I’m not moving.”
Drakon grabbed him by his belt loop and hauled him to his feet,
giving him a massive wedgie in the process. “Suck it up, pet.”
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“Lick my balls, Master,” Warren shot back as he pulled the denim
out of his ass crack.
“With pleasure.” Looking over his shoulder, Drakon winked
roguishly. “As soon as we make camp.”
Snatching his bag up, Warren shrugged it on and jogged to catch
up with his mate. “Why didn’t you just say so? Onward, ho!”
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Chapter Thirteen
“What is that?”
“A present from Laylan,” Drakon answered casually.
“It looks like ginger root.”
“It is.”
“What are you doing with it?” Warren crawled closer in the small
tent to examine Drakon’s work.
“It’s a surprise.” It had been fortuitous that Laylan and Jacob
shared the same kinks he did. Even luckier was the fact that Laylan
had been clever enough to plan for such things in his packing.
“You don’t expect me to eat that, do you?”
Drakon smirked as he continued whittling the root, etching out a
groove closer to the base. “Nope.”
“Fine, don’t tell me.” Settling onto his back, Warren stretched out
on their sleeping bag and stared up at the ceiling of their tent. “It’ll be
dark soon.”
They’d both been so drained that they’d slept through the entire
day without interruption. Only within the last half hour or so had
Drakon heard the others in their group milling around outside, likely
preparing something to eat.
“We have time.”
“Time for what?”
Drakon wondered if Warren knew how gorgeous he looked
sprawled out against the black bedroll, gloriously and temptingly
naked. Well, if he didn’t know, he was about to find out. It was hard
to believe that it had been less than twenty-four hours since their
Accepting the Impossible
125
romp in the shower. Drakon didn’t think he’d ever get enough of his
mate, though.
“Roll over and I’ll show you.”
* * * *
Rolling to his stomach, Warren pulled his knees under him, but
left his chest flat against the ground, presenting his ass for his lover’s
viewing pleasure. “Like this?”
Kneeling in the corner of the tent, Drakon rummaged through his
pack, extracting a small tube of lubricating gel and a bottle of water.
Warren found the combination odd, but he didn’t comment. It became
much more difficult to keep his curiosity at bay when Drakon tossed
the lube aside and opened the bottle of water, pouring the clear liquid
over the ginger root he’d spent so much time carving.
“Remember, the others are right outside.” Drakon paused as he
positioned himself between Warren’s ankles, but when he spoke
again, Warren could hear the smile in his voice. “Make all the noise
you want.”
“Can I ask a question, Sir?” Warren slipped easily into his role.
“Go ahead.”
“What is the ginger root for, Sir? Will it hurt?”
The cool, wet tip of the ginger rubbed circles around his hole
before slowly pressing inside. “It’s called figging, Warren. Have you
ever heard of it?”
“No, Sir.”
“It can be used a lot of different ways, but this time I chose to
carve the root into a plug.” He pumped the odd toy in and out of
Warren’s channel a few times before inserting it fully. “You will feel
a slight warming, especially here.” His finger ringed Warren’s
muscles where they stretched taut around the root. “The warming will
increase, building to an intense burn as the juices seep into your flesh.
If it becomes too much, you know your safeword.”
126
Gabrielle Evans
“Orange, Sir.” He was already beginning to feel the warming
sensation Drakon spoke of. It was actually kind of nice and sent a
gentle tingling through his inner muscles.
Drakon’s open palm landed hard against his right butt cheek,
causing him to clench and inadvertently squeeze the ginger filling his
depths. Two more swats to his ass and the back of his thighs had him
biting into the sleeping bag to muffle his wanton moans.
The soft tips of his lover’s hair tickled the inside of his thighs as
Drakon insinuated his head between Warren’s legs and laved his
slippery tongue over Warren’s tightening sac. His tongue swirled and
lapped, and his lips closed around one of Warren’s balls, sucking the
orb into his mouth.
As the minutes ticked away, the smoldering embers of warmth
caused by the ginger slowly built into a raging inferno, heightened
each time his hole inadvertently clenched around the base. The
intense pleasure-pain that coursed through him made him feel slightly
delirious. His muscles quivered as though his body was unsure if he
should make the burn stop or beg for more.
His cock had no such qualms, however. With a mind of its own,
the rigid flesh flexed and jerked, swelling hard enough to pound
railroad spikes. As the sensations increased, so did the volume of his
cries, but he was no longer concerned about modesty.
Drakon’s tongue traveled up the length of his shaft, and one
pointed canine dragged back down the pulsing vein that ran along the
side. Long, talented fingers kneaded the back of his thighs before
those roughened palms glided upward to grip the rounded globes of
his ass.
When Drakon inched forward and captured the head of his dick
between his glistening lips, Warren couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Fuck!” Screaming until his throat felt raw, he convulsed violently as
climactic bliss barrel rolled him under a wave of earth-shattering
pleasure.
Accepting the Impossible
127
When he finally settled back inside his mind, the first thing he
noticed was how empty he felt. The second was that the all-
consuming burn was beginning to dissipate. Still addled from his
explosive orgasm, it took longer than it should have to put two and
two together.
By the time it dawned on him that Drakon had removed the ginger
root, he found himself on his side with his lover curled around his
back. “Gods, you are so beautiful, priya. So perfect.” His right leg
was lifted and stretched over Drakon’s hip, opening him wide to his
mate’s desires. “Are you ready for more?”
Apparently, “more” was the magic word, because his cock began
to swell with renewed interest, and his hole clenched greedily,
begging to be filled. “Bring it on.”
* * * *
Pulling his mate’s leg up higher to drape over his hip, Drakon
pushed a hand between them, gripping his slippery cock and guiding
it toward Warren’s wet, pink entrance. He pushed the crown through
the tight rosette, paused, and pulled out until the tip just kissed the
tiny starburst.
He did it again. And again. Over and over, teasing his lover until
Warren was moaning and rocking against him, desperate for anything
Drakon would offer him. “Please,” he begged, the sound ratcheting
Drakon’s lust higher.
Surging in only halfway, he paused and swiveled his hips before
pulling out of that sweet, velvet-lined tunnel once more. He continued
to torment, giving Warren just a taste before taking it back. Several
more times he thrust into Warren’s tight ass, only to torture them both
by arching away and removing his full length.
“I hate you,” Warren whimpered as his chest rose and fell in rapid
succession with his labored breathing. “Please, Sir. I’ll do anything.
Please.”
128
Gabrielle Evans
Satisfied that his lover was mindless with need, Drakon finally
gave into his own clawing desire, plunging into Warren’s firm body
until he was buried to the hilt. Holding Warren’s hip in a bruising
grasp, he rocked in tiny nudges, grinding his groin against the man’s
sweet, pert ass.
Falling into a rhythm, he kept his strokes slow and controlled,
drawing out the pleasure for as long as he could. His hand dipped
between Warren’s spread thighs to fondle his sac, cupping his balls
delicately and rolling them between his fingers.
“Close,” Warren panted. “So, close. I need…I need…”
Drakon knew exactly what he needed. Increasing his tempo, he
slammed into Warren, giving him the extra roughness he craved as he
fisted his bouncing cock. Jerking the turgid flesh in tandem to his
thrusts, he pushed them both closer to the edge, holding nothing back.
Dropping his head to the side, Warren exposed the curve of his
neck. “Please,” he whispered. “I need it.”
After watching the man he loved come close to being mauled to
death, Drakon needed it as well. Closing his mouth over the damp
flesh of Warren’s neck, he bit down gently, allowing his fangs to
pierce the skin as they elongated from his gums. The rush of blood
over his tongue was just as intoxicating as it had been the first time,
and Drakon felt the shiver race down his spine at the renewal of their
bond.
A quiet gasp puffed from Warren’s lips, his body went rigid, and
his inner walls clamped down on Drakon’s cock, massaging his length
in waves. Heated wetness splashed over his hand and wrist, and the
scent of his mate’s release finally pushed him over the edge.
Extracting his canines, Drakon crushed Warren to his chest,
breathing heavily against his shoulder while he pumped through his
own climax, overflowing Warren’s channel with his seed.
Slumped together with the smell of sex filling the tent, Drakon
nuzzled against the side of his lover’s neck and placed a small kiss
Accepting the Impossible
129
over his mating mark. “Do you even understand how much I love
you, Warren?”
“I thought you’d lost your mind when that Harbinger attacked me.
So, yeah. I think I do.” Rolling to his stomach, he grunted when
Drakon’s flagging erection slipped from his body. “I always hate that
part.” Then he was back, turning so that he could cuddle into
Drakon’s arms. “I think it might be almost as much as I love you.”
Drakon didn’t do sappy. He didn’t do romantic. He definitely
didn’t do mushy. No way was he going to get into a ridiculous
argument about who loved who more. What would be the point? He
already knew he’d win. “If you say so, Warren.”
“Will you miss it? Your house, your job, and all that over stuff, I
mean.”
“Well, I’m hoping we can find a place to bathe soon. Otherwise,
we’re going to end up stuck together.”
Warren wrinkled his nose and swatted at Drakon’s chest. “I’m
serious. You gave up everything for me, Drakon. Do you regret it?”
“I’ll miss it a little,” he confessed. “I lived in that house a long
time before the virus, the New Order, or any of the rest of this crap
happened. You know what, though?”
“What’s that?”
“It’s just a house. We’ll find a new one.”
“Home is where the heart is,” Warren quoted as he drew little
circles on Drakon’s hip with his forefinger.
If that was true, Drakon didn’t need to worry about finding a
house. Warren owned his heart, and therefore, was his home. “I guess
that makes me kind of like a turtle. I just carry my home around with
me.”
He wasn’t sure if Warren had heard his thoughts, or he was just
clever enough to follow along, but the guy snickered and bobbed his
head. “That was bad, but it was cute.”
“I’m not cute.”
“You are, especially when you pout.”
130
Gabrielle Evans
“You’re an ass.”
“Aww, flattery will get you everywhere.”
Warren yelped when Drakon growled and rolled him across the
sleeping back, pinning him to the ground. “I’m not cute, and I don’t
pout.”
“Fine, you win.”
“I like winning.” Damn, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d
had so much fun, and it wasn’t like it was the ideal situation for it,
either. Warren just had that effect on him. The sun had almost set,
though, and it was time they got busy packing. “We need to get
moving, baby. If we make good time, we might reach the base of the
mountains tonight.”
“Drakon?”
“Yes, Warren.”
“I just want you to know that if we don’t find what we’re looking
for, it’s okay. We can build our own town if that’s what it takes. Just
promise me that we’ll stick together.”
“Promise.” He thought he’d already proven that, but if Warren
needed reassurance, he was happy to oblige. “Can we eat now?”
Warren huffed and pushed at his chest until Drakon rolled off
him. “You suck.”
“With gusto. As I recall, you enjoyed it.”
“You are incorrigible.”
“Are you two still alive in there?” Kennedy called from outside
their tent. “At first, I thought you guys were stabbing a pig. Then I
thought maybe you were killing my brother. I mean, it would be one
less mouth to feed, but—”
“Kennedy, shut up.”
“Okay, just checking.” He laughed his fool head off as his
footsteps shuffled away.
Resting his forehead to Warren’s, Drakon chuckled softly and
pecked at his mate’s lips. “Gods, what am I going to do with two of
you?”
Accepting the Impossible
131
“Hey, Kennedy is Julius’s problem now.”
To an extent, that was true. Somehow, Drakon had found himself
the leader of this eclectic band of misfits, making him responsible for
each and every one of them. He was no stranger to responsibility, but
it was still an enormous amount of pressure.
However, Warren was and always would be his first and main
priority. If Warren wasn’t safe, nothing else mattered. For that reason,
he really hoped they’d find free lands on the other side of those
mountains.
Right then, he just needed to focus on getting them that far.
“Move out, soldier. We’ve got places to go.”
“Mm, I call for a delay of departure, Lieutenant.”
“And what would that delay be?”
Warren’s arms wound around his neck, pulling him into a deep,
searing kiss that had his pulse racing and his cock swelling. “Medical
emergency,” Warren mumbled against his lips.
Okay, they could set up a permanent camp right where they were
for all Drakon cared. If his mate kept it up, they were never leaving
the tent, and he just couldn’t bring himself to mind. “Where does it
hurt, baby?”
The grin Warren gave him was downright devilish as his fingers
wrapped around Drakon’s heavy erection. “Let me show you.”
THE END
WWW.GABRIELLEEVANS.COM
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Gabrielle Evans grew up in a small town in southern Oklahoma.
We are talking one red light that may or may not work depending on
the day of the week. She married her high school sweetheart and the
rest is pretty much history. They have two very active boys and one
high-strung wiener dog that keeps her constantly on the go. For now,
she parks her car in central Indiana, but who knows what tomorrow
will bring.
Gabrielle believes in love at first sight, falling hard and fast,
taking chances, and grabbing your happy-ever-after with both hands.
Most importantly, she believes that a great cup of coffee can cure
anything.
For all titles by Gabrielle Evans, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/gabrielle-evans
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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