Collared by Wolves [The Haunt of the Wolves 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (9 page)

She smiled, remembering that the sex had come after they had tied her up and paddled her. She rubbed her backside and grinned. That was exactly what she had expected from BDSM, and it hadn’t disappointed her.

“No, siree!”

Laughing at the words she declared out loud, the noise echoing back from the surrounding trees sounded eerie there outside the building.

Natasha shook her head in astonishment at everything. “Okay, so I like BDSM, that’s for sure. But do I like being with werewolves?” She paused to think. Each one had been incredibly fit, very sexy, and to top it all, pretty handsome. It was all her fantasies come true and, at the same time, incredible that they had all wanted her. Actually, it was every woman’s dream come true!

Then she frowned. It didn’t change the fact, though, that the fighting seriously frightened her, particularly when they changed into wolves, or werewolves. It wasn’t something she witnessed every day.

She shivered violently and wrapped her arms around her bare shoulders. She’d momentarily forgotten that element of their personalities. Shaking her head, she was unable to believe that she had actually come back to a place where human beings transformed into animals—wild animals at that. Dangerous ones with sharp teeth and long claws that could rip her throat out or claw her insides with one swipe.

Okay, so maybe that’s a bit dramatic, but I always did enjoy gory movies!
The difference was that was on screen and this was real life, even if it did still feel surreal and like one big dream.

The breathing having nearly returned to normal, Natasha hesitated. Her chest was tight with conflicting emotions and needs. She might have enjoyed the BDSM, but the werewolves were another matter entirely.

“Okay, girl. You were brave enough to try BDSM. Surely you can summon courage to accept werewolves?”

Her heart started thumping as she made her decision, and pushing away from the wall, she turned back toward the door.

Suddenly a hand clasped itself around her mouth, and she let out a muffled cry. It was a furry hand.

Oh my God. They’ve come for me after all.

“Hold her tight. We don’t want her getting away.” An arm came around her body, holding her tightly.

They’re going to take me back inside.
Part of her was excited by the idea of repeating what they had done earlier, and she felt a renewed throbbing in her clit. And yet, she was also scared as the hand covering her mouth and the arm closely wrapped around her waist propelled her in the opposite direction.

Why that way?
What was going on? That made her dig her heels in.

This wasn’t right. Suddenly she didn’t want this. It felt like it was something she was being forced to do. Why couldn’t they just say they wanted to talk to her further or ask her back inside to continue? Or even ask for her phone number so they could contact her again? Except that was what ordinary guys did, and she hadn’t wanted ordinary.

In her anger, at herself as much as them, she started kicking out, beating on the arms that held her. Her nails dug into the arm, and she tried to pull it away without success, crying into the hand over her mouth to stop, to let her go. But only muted sounds emerged. She then tried to yell, but it was useless and Natasha began to feel extremely distressed as she was dragged away from the building, which now felt like a sanctuary.

But which of them was it? Did Seamer want to take his anger out on her after the others had elbowed in? But that wasn’t her fault, surely, and he had given her such a terrific orgasm. Did Max want to force her to finish him off? But he had seemed a nice person. And what about the other two? Did they want to take her like the others had? But hadn’t they been caressing her gently when it had all come to a head?

“Damn the little bitch. Someone take her legs.” The voice at her ear was very deep and rough-sounding. The sneer in his tone wasn’t something she’d heard from the others.

Who’s that?
It didn’t sound like any of the guys she had been with earlier, and a sliver of terror went through her at the realization that this was someone else entirely.

Oh shit!

When another being came around to take her legs, she could see it wasn’t one of her men. He was partly shifted, so his face was wolf-like with fur on his arms, but his body was still upright and he was in clothing. Even though she had only seen her men briefly in wolf form, she was certain this one was a stranger, and she groaned, lashing out in fury and despair as the wolfman grabbed her legs, pinching her skin as he did.

Christ. No! What’s happening? What do they want?

She started to fight in earnest now, twisting and turning as best she could, her skirt riding up over her bottom, but they had a tight grip on her, their fingers digging in deep, hurting her. Another one had taken hold of her wrists, stopping her hits, which seemed feeble to her as they didn’t seem to feel a thing. Even bucking didn’t help, and she wept at the hopelessness of her situation.

Suddenly she saw they were taking her toward a black van with painted windows, and this reinforced the notion that something bad was going to happen, particularly when a fourth person opened the doors and grinned at them. His leering face scared her.

“Come on. Hurry up or someone will come out.” A fifth voice sounded off to her left. “Have the others gone ahead?”

Others? Oh shit. How many more of them were there?

Emotions swamped her, and she trembled violently, particularly when she heard voices raised and the sounds of more people, more werewolves. She was afraid that she was about to be raped, felt dread that she might be killed, and was terrified that she’d never see her aunt again. She was also mightily confused over who these people might be. Natasha thought she heard a voice she recognized, but she must have been mistaken. These men were nothing like his people.

When she was flung uncaringly into the van, she tumbled over and over, coming to rest against the back wall. The doors were slammed, shutting out all light, and she cried out. Scrambling to her knees, she flung herself against the door, screaming and banging on it with all her might.

“Noooo! Oh God. Someone please help.” But when the van lurched to life, tossing her across the vehicle again, all her fears were realized. There was no one to come to her aid.

She was all alone.

Frowning as Natasha ran out of the room, Griff turned away from the betas and watched as she fled from him, once more.

Damn them!
It was all
their
fault again.

His anger rose, and he pushed Ford away from him, clenching his fists to avoid lashing out at him. The third beta was already striding away. He, too, couldn’t stay any longer or a fight would ensue again.

Snarling at everyone nearby, Griff started out of the room when movement to his left halted him midstride. It was a dark-haired girl, one he’d had before. He seemed to remember her name was Brenda, or Belinda, or something like that. And she was far too forward. Not the docile type of person he usually preferred. She proved she was still anything other than submissive when she trailed her claws over his arm without his permission, clearly wanting to get a reaction from him.

Growling didn’t deter her. Instead she raised her eyes to his and deliberately stared, flirting with him. “If you’re looking for a female for the night, I can provide better entertainment than that silly human.” Her voice was silky smooth and full of salacious intent.

No wonder she had been ousted from her pack by the alpha bitch. Griff recalled the story that, despite only being a beta, Brenda had been trying to displace the alpha’s female, but instead she had ended up in hospital herself.

Griff grinned to himself. Bitches fought dirty, and Brenda didn’t have the cunning that the other woman had.

Narrowing his eyes, he looked down and concentrated more fully on the woman. She was partially shifted and reasonably attractive. And for her brazenness in approaching him, he would certainly take her, but it would be rough and quick and he would precede it with some well-deserved punishment.

Oh yes, I need to dole out some retribution to someone.
Anyone!

Brenda squealed as Griff grabbed her arm and looked around swiftly, spying an empty booth, and briskly walked her in that direction. It was one that had overhead cuffs dangling down. He quickly attached the cuffs to her wrists, stringing her up so only her paws touched the ground.

“Hey!” Her cry stopped him from going further, so he grabbed hold of her fur. He didn’t care that she cried, “Ouch!” She had asked for this, and he wasn’t in the mood for gentleness.

“What? Do you want this or don’t you?” He could still hear the anger in his voice. She had better not withdraw. He badly needed an outlet, although he forced himself to calm down knowing it was the betas he was angry with and not her. He needed to be controlled so he didn’t hurt her unduly. At least not more than she was asking for.

Her face took on a sulky look, and her affirmative response was all that he needed. He resisted breathing a sigh of relief. “Good. Because I am going to thrash you for your appallingly blatant behavior.”

His intention was to tie her up and beat her with a crop, or maybe the whip. He ignored the cries that she gave out, recalling from their previous episode that she pretended alarm when, in fact, she was anything but frightened.

Now Natasha, on the other hand, had been exciting in her fear. Not because he wanted her to be scared, but he liked making her submit, showing her what it could be like. The excitement of showing a potential submissive the delights of BDSM for the first time was the most thrilling aspect of being a Dom. Although with her it could have been so much more. He would have shown her how he could bring her to the edge, and she would have had enjoyment in it.

Damn her. Damn them!

Gritting his teeth in anger, Griff turned to the rack of implements trying to make up his mind which one to use when he suddenly became aware of something—a tickling at the corners of his consciousness. Something that was insistent, very insistent. It was sort of like the Shroud, and yet he knew it was not that.
So what then?

Wrenching his body around, he saw Ford jerk his head up, also noticing the strange sensation.

This surprised him.
Why would both of us experience this?
Although it wasn’t the Shroud, it was something he’d never felt before.

They looked at each other, trying to ascertain how either of them was being affected by this strange feeling. Griff wondered if his expression appeared as startled as Ford’s.

An urgency thrummed through him, getting stronger and stronger, demanding he move, and he knew he just had to find the source of the need.

As one they both started to run toward the door, gaining speed as they went, the compulsion easing, although still insistent. He had no problems abandoning the bitch he had just restrained, knowing someone else would take his place.

Barging through those coming up the stairs, they swiftly ran outside. He knew without looking that Max was close behind them as they arrived into an empty parking lot. There were several cars, but no people.

Running around the side elicited nothing either. Arriving back in the main lot, each having tried a different side of the building they stopped, starring at each other, almost like a duel.

But now he knew the feeling had something to do with Natasha. Something had happened to her, and he felt a pang of sorrow which was totally outside his experience. He’d never felt anything for a woman before, and this partly worried him but also excited him, except for the fact that she had disappeared.

“So where the hell is she?” Griff growled. “She hasn’t gone home. I just know. Someone has her.”

Ford turned to look at Max, and Griff frowned. One reason he had never liked these guys was the intuition that went between them. It made him feel left out. He snorted. Not that he ever wanted to belong to a pack.

“What? Is there something you know and you are not telling me?” His snarl heralded the appearance of his claws.

They didn’t answer him, but Max dropped to the ground, his nose twitching as he scented something.

Ford crouched down by him. “What can you smell?” Griff guessed that Max was a tracker, not that he himself, as an alpha, couldn’t track equally as well as a beta, and he raised his nose to prove his point.

“A pack. Lots of them,” he confidently intoned before Max could answer.

Raising his head from the ground, Max tilted his head to look at him. “Yes. I can determine eleven distinct wolf smells.” It was the look of someone who knew he was excellent at what he did.

“Jeez! But have they got Tasha?” The impatience Ford demonstrated told of his fury. Griff was aware that this senior beta wasn’t one who lost his rag easily in normal situations, so this was rare for him, and he became conscious that the girl meant as much to the others as they did to him.

Griff let Max tell his friend. He knew the answer, but he wasn’t about to admit that he wasn’t able to tell the exact number of wolves who had her.

“Yes. And she is frightened.”

He could tell that? Griff was really impressed with Max’s ability and let him continue.