Collared by Wolves [The Haunt of the Wolves 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (6 page)

Something indiscernible was pulling him, demanding his immediate attention. He forgot about Ford as it fizzled through his body, heightening his awareness, making his cock harden.

Time seemed to stand still as he waited, somewhat impatiently, shuffling his feet, wanting whatever it was that was causing this strange feeling he had never felt before to show itself.

Cursing the fact that the light over the doorway was dim, he squinted, but all he could see was darkness as the body of someone, something, quietly entered. All he could ascertain was that they were not particularly tall. In fact, it seemed that this person was rather on the small side.

His heart was pounding as anticipation throbbed through him. He wondered for a moment if it was the human, Tasha, and quickly dismissed that thought.
No, it couldn’t be.

Finally the person came forward into the hazy light. It was indeed the girl from the other night. Max had to choke back a gasp.

She came back!

His body began to shake, and he swiftly turned his head to glance over at Ford to ascertain his reaction and shared a startled gaze with him. His packmate was clearly experiencing the same feelings. Max turned his head, needing to watch the human to see what she did this time.

The girl tentatively walked forward a few steps.
God, she’s brave coming back after her previous fright.
He could see her sending darting glances around the room, and he wondered if she was looking for him and the others.

Or trying to avoid us.

He winced at that thought.

Sensing Ford get up from the bar, Max held back. As usual he allowed his friend to take the lead. As he moved to take up a position to the right of Ford, he nearly fell over a naked couple sitting in a chair just behind him. The girl was lying on the guy’s lap, her furred legs draped over his hairy shoulders and her back on his muscular thighs, with her head lolling over his knees. Her tongue was falling out of the side of her muzzle as she panted furiously, her amber eyes glazed over with the exertion of their fucking. The man was hammering into the keening bitch as she clawed at his legs to keep from falling off.

Furred!
Max suddenly realized what he was seeing. The woman was in her wolf self, as was the man. Her claws were digging into his thighs. Her eyes were wolf eyes.

He jerked his head around so swiftly it hurt his neck. He looked at Tasha in amazement. He couldn’t tell if she had noticed or not. But either way it didn’t matter. The Shroud hadn’t fallen. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and concentrate on what he had just observed.

No, the Shroud is absolutely not there.
The usual compulsion to stay human was absent, and that astounded him.

That spelled only one thing. She must know that they were werewolves.

It also meant something else—that she knew that they were part animal, capable of killing someone with their teeth and claws, and despite that she had still come back for more. That made him ponder, and he frowned. Was she someone who was into the exotic? There’d been a few human girls wanting that before. Or was she someone who wanted pain? Or both?

Then the smell of her arousal hit him like a hammer as a gust of wind blew through the open doorway right in his direction. He knew it was from her rather than the couple behind him as human arousal was so different from wolves. It had a sweeter scent unlike the earthy smells of his species. And it enticed him with its alienness. An excitement coursed through his body as he deeply breathed in this erotic aroma.

And this was swiftly followed by a pang of disappointment so acute he felt sick as Griff suddenly appeared before her.

Damn him! Where the hell had he come from?
Max swore the man hadn’t been in the building earlier. Like most alphas here, Griff tended to arrive later, and Max had been in the front bar all the time and would surely have noticed him.

Watching closely, Max saw Tasha hesitate for a second. She bit her lip but still took a step forward at Griff’s beckon, allowing him to place a possessive arm around her waist and lead her up the stairs.

A growl of despair penetrated his devastated senses. It was a cry he knew well as it belonged to Callum. He had been aware that the third in their pack had been on the far side of the room when this was taking place, and Callum now came charging across the space like a bullet, pushing people out of his way without a second thought in his need to confront their nemesis.

Max moved at the same time as Ford, each knowing what had to be done, and they both reached their friend at the same time, grabbing hold of Callum’s arms tightly as he tried to storm his way up the stairs. It wasn’t easy. Out of the three of them, Callum was the strongest, and he tried his best to wrench his arms free. Max’s neck hurt at the onslaught, and he had to brace his legs to hold his friend.

“Stop it, Cal. You can’t have her!”

His words didn’t work as Callum still struggled fiercely in their grip, snapping at them as he partially shifted, his wolf needing to confront the enemy. It was a feeling Max knew well as he had to fight to hold his own animal down, to stop the instinctive need to turn wolf.

Ford then slapped Callum around the head—hard. It was enough to distract him, and he shimmered back to his human self, shaking his head as he did. Max winced in sympathy, knowing it must have hurt.

“Dammit, Ford. We can take him. There’s three of us.” Callum might have been thwarted, but that didn’t mean he had given up as he looked earnestly at them, trying to persuade them to go after Griff. The desperate tone of his voice indicated how much he needed to confront the other man, to take the girl away from him.

A growl followed this remark as Ford took hold of Callum’s shoulders and shook him hard. Max let him go and rubbed his neck instead.

“You stupid boy. Yes, we might be able to do that—and probably one of us will get seriously injured in the process. You know how strong Griff is. But also consider if it is really worth it.”

“We’d get the girl,” Callum answered plaintively.

Raising his hands in the air in exasperation, Ford turned away. He was clearly unable to reason with the youngest member of their group.

Max took pity on Callum, taking hold of his chin to make him look him in the eye. Well, look down to him, as Callum was a good four inches taller than his own five foot ten. His voice was gentle, but firm as he stated, “No, we
wouldn’t
get Tasha. Remember how she ran out the other night when we got into a fight over her. She’d probably do the same again. We scared her, or had you forgotten? She didn’t want us to continue.”

“Oh.” The fight totally left Callum’s body as his shoulders dropped dejectedly. His defeat didn’t last long. “But she’s here now. That means she’s got over her fears, surely.”

Groaning at Callum’s almost childlike enthusiasm, Max declared gruffly, “Yeah. And she might have come back for
him
.” He gestured a thumb up the stairs. “And not us. Have you considered that?” He planted his hands on his hips and stared at his friend, showing his condescension.

“Shit!”

Max smiled and felt sorry for the other man as he patted Callum pityingly on the back. “Go and join Ford for a drink at the bar. I’ll keep an eye on them both.” He shook his head as Callum suddenly looked hopeful. “I doubt if I can persuade her to take us on instead, but I want to make sure Griff doesn’t do anything to harm her. You know what his reputation is like.”

Callum suddenly looked worried, and Max tensed, ready to pull his friend back again if he attempted to charge up the stairs. He had the look of someone just about to do that, but instead he ran a hand through his hair.

“God! I’d forgotten that. Go to them. Keep that bastard from hurting her, and call us if you need help.”

“I will, but you know, he’s not that bad.” Callum gave him such a look of disbelief that Max chortled, and turning his friend, he pushed him in the direction of the bar where Ford had gone.

As he climbed the stairs, Max pondered further. He was right. Griff might have a reputation for getting too engrossed in his animal self, but Max had also felt other emotions coming from the man as he had approached the girl. One of which had been a desire to be gentle. That was entirely unexpected and gave Max food for thought.

Natasha shivered as the man—werewolf, she firmly reminded herself—braced his large palm firmly against the small of her back as he propelled her up the stairs. His thumb rubbed against her bare skin, edging under the bottom of the green crop-top she wore.

God that feels good.

She was glad she had chosen to go with him, although she had seen at least two of the other three from the previous night. In fact she wasn’t sure if taking this man’s invitation was any better than those three. Although he was just one man, he exuded such strength and arrogance it frightened her at the same time as it made her feel protected.

But she had been so engulfed with sensations when she had been with the trio that night that she wasn’t sure she could cope with it again, even though it had been amazing. And so, despite plucking up the courage to return, Tasha wasn’t sure she could get involved with them at this moment in time. This guy seemed the lesser of two evils. She hoped.

They reached the top of the stairs, and he took her hand to lead her forward. She shivered as she recalled what had happened in there before, her steps faltering. In return the man ran a hand over her shoulders and neck, caressing her, gentling her.

She had debated long and hard whether to come back. There were so many options. She could have returned to her nice, safe, ordered—and very boring—life. It hadn’t been hard. She discarded that notion immediately. Not now she had seen what could happen, what she could feel. She might have only been there a very short time, but it left an indelible mark on her.

Option two therefore had been to try to find a BDSM club elsewhere where normal people—not werewolves—frequented. Although she did entertain the thought that all BDSM clubs were run by werewolves, but decided that was unlikely. Otherwise their secret really would have come out.

The idea of finding an ordinary club had been a definite possibility, and she had gone as far as Googling some sites, which had been fascinating in itself, and she began to get excited, but something held her back. At least she had made the first move coming here to this venue, whereas if she went somewhere new, she would have to gain courage all over again to walk over the doorstep.

Of course, the last option was to return to The Haunt, the place she now knew werewolves inhabited—werewolves who took part in BDSM. She wasn’t sure what astonished her the most—the fact that they really did exist, or that they participated in BDSM.

Her exploration of the Internet continued with a search for information on werewolves, but it didn’t elicit any useful data on the species other than legends, much to her great annoyance. She read page after page with frustration. It all related to fictional stories. And none of them said anything about BDSM.

Having spent some sleepless nights wondering which option to go with, and deciding she would return to The Haunt, she recalled with a shudder the confrontation that had taken place when they had turned into wolves and started fighting.

Had that scared her that much? Actually, she noted with a wry grin, not as much as the BDSM. And not as much as not seeing what could happen if she didn’t return.

And so she was back here again, letting a tall, scary wolf lead her into the venue. No wonder the place was called The Haunt. It all made sense now.

Griff said something, and she realized she had been so engrossed in her recollections that she hadn’t heard his exact words. “Excuse me, I didn’t hear you. Can you say that again?”

He growled, and she jumped. “You need to listen. I might tell you something important that you need to know for your safety.”

She paled and swallowed nervously. “I’m sorry, Sir. I won’t do it again.”

His face softened. “I actually asked you what your name was.”

“Oh. Natasha—people call me Tasha.”

He raised a finger to stroke her cheek softly and then used it to lift her chin so she was looking into his eyes. His really dark eyes which were nearly black. “Okay, little Tasha, I’m Griff. I know you attended the trials the other day but I need to know if you have ever done this before that night.”

Natasha felt the blood drain from her face. What happened if he found out she was a complete novice? Would he reject her? She ducked her head and said in a small voice, “No.”

“A newbie, eh!” He chuckled and she thought a dismissal was coming, but was surprised by his next comment. “I am therefore going to show you some scenes before we go any further. I may ask you if you like what you are seeing, or I may just get an idea from your reaction. It will be interesting to see what you think. Ready?”

She nodded eagerly, surprised by where the conversation was going, and then blushed as he laughed at her keenness.

Leading her over to the first booth, she nearly stepped back immediately at the sight of a girl, her arms tied behind her, the rope pulled up toward the ceiling until she was bent over, with her legs spread between a bar.

Only Griff holding her firmly, his hands on her hips, kept Natasha from fleeing. He leaned his head to whisper in her ear. “That is called strappado.”