Releasing the Wolf (5 page)

“The what?” she asked, pulling her copper-coloured hair back into a new, neater ponytail. Unfortunately, she could do nothing about the shorter strands that insisted on escaping the hair-tie’s clutches. They framed her face in disarray, making her look like some sort of wild jungle creature.

Lisa wrinkled her nose as she studied Lydia’s hair. “It’ll have to do. Good thing you’ve got those gorgeous violet-blue eyes. Come on, let’s go.”

They hurried out of the toilets and towards the restaurant. “Lees, were you joking about the silverware?”

“Nope. Kathleen told me the last time Simon got it out was three years ago. It’s only reserved for special occasions.”

“Oh, crap.”

“What is it?”

“I’m allergic to silver.”

Lisa threw her a glare. “Trust you to be awkward.”

“Well, I can’t help it!”

“How allergic?”

“It gives me a rash if I touch it, and the rash sort of burns – doesn’t look pretty.”

She groaned. “You’re gonna have to work around it. Don’t touch the cutlery, okay? Pick everything up with a napkin. Think you can do that?”

“Guess I’ll have to.” Although she suddenly felt queasy just thinking about the silver cutlery. The last thing she wanted to do was nurse an allergy when she already felt like one of the dead – or soon to be dead. What a horrible thought. A shiver snaked its way down her spine, and she wondered if someone had prematurely walked over her grave.

An uneasy feeling skirted around the edges of her nerves. Foreboding – that’s what it was. Odd. She wasn’t the foreboding type.

Another set of double doors, and they were in the restaurant. The chatter was loud, the people, many, all buzzing with expectation of tonight’s performance which would start in just over an hour, and the lights suddenly seemed too bright.

Lydia stumbled but caught herself, and Lisa glared at her again. She didn’t need to say anything. The tips were shared equally amongst everyone. If one of them fucked up, they all paid for it.

Lydia threw her an apologetic smile and gave a head a little shake to clear it.

Four hours, Lydia. You’re only here for four hours. Get a grip.

Sometimes she was grateful for her great aunt’s voice.

“Start with table twenty-one,” hissed Lisa. “Nice and easy – there’s just two of them.” Then she turned and walked towards her own table, beaming a hundred watts, and looking as professional and confident as she always did.

Lydia sighed, grabbed a clean notepad and pen, and headed over to twenty-one.

The man and woman sitting there were a wonderful, friendly couple, and she slowly eased into the evening. She was handling it, and the people, better than she thought she would. The silver – although still making her queasy whenever she thought about it for any length of time – was bearable as long as she picked it up with the napkins. Everyone’s anticipation at watching and potentially meeting so-called celebrity, Russell Maddox, was catching. This was starting to look like a really good evening.

Bad things always happen when you let your guard down – she’d learnt that early on in life. It was very rare for her to let her guard slip, but tonight – as she began to enjoy the hustle and bustle of her job – she had.

So the scent completely took her by surprise.

She stiffened, pen in hand, mid-order, as that smell raced through her mind as well as her body, awaking some primal desire. That smell of ‘green’.

Taylor.

She turned towards it, eyes scanning for him, but it wasn’t Taylor they landed on.

All at once she could tell that
his
smell was a little different, although no less intoxicating. The man that sat where Taylor should be was tall, well-built – even through his jacket she could see that – with flaxen blond hair that fell to his shoulders and the palest blue eyes she’d ever seen.

And he was staring at her, his expression nothing short of icy.

Her legs sort of trembled. No, her entire body trembled, and she just about managed to ignore the nonsensical urge she had to drop to her knees. But she couldn’t ignore the heat that rose up from within her. It seemed to centre on her neck, and she suddenly felt like she was being strangled by her own hot flush. Without thinking, she undid the top button of her blouse and tilted her head up to expose her neck to the cooling air, and she did it all without dropping her gaze from his.

His eyebrows rose a fraction, and his eyes softened for a millisecond before resuming their iciness. That millisecond was enough – she’d done something right. She didn’t know what it was, but for the first time in a long time, she had done something right.

“Lydia!” That was Simon.
Oh, fuck, that was Simon!

“
Lydia!”
He barked her name out again, and she landed back to earth with a thump.

Oh, god…

He grabbed her by the elbow and steered her away from the table she’d neglected when the scent had caught her attention.
Double fuck.

Lisa swooped into it instead, without missing a beat, apologised emphatically for Lydia’s behaviour and offered dessert on the house.

Lydia was steered towards the sauces and condiments cabinet at the far section of the restaurant where the tables had already been cleared. It was separated from the main part of the restaurant by a set of swinging doors.

Guess he’s too mad to take me all the way to his office…

“What the hell was that little display for?” he bit out, his anger barely contained.

“Display?”

He lowered his voice. “You were practically coming on to the owner of the theatre. A second later and I thought you might whip your blouse off!”

Her indignation won over her embarrassment. “I was not!”

“
You
are on your last warning. Ever since you started working here four months ago, you’ve been nothing but a liability. Tonight you took it to a whole new level.”

“I wasn’t—”

“I saw exactly what you were doing, you little slut.”

Her mouth dropped open. That was
so
not PC. Her brain searched for some kind of witty comeback but, in truth, it was shocked that he had had the gall to say such a thing at all. Was that even allowed?

Her back hit something, and, too late, she realised he’d been propelling her backwards towards the wall. Suddenly he caged her in, planting both his arms either side of her and let his eyes drop to her open neckline as he closed the gap between them. She was pretty damn certain that
wasn’t
allowed.

“Back off,” she demanded through gritted teeth, surprised at the steel in her own voice.

Simon looked at her, a little confused, his eyes all hazy and full of lust.

She actually recoiled. He’d never given her any sign that he was interested in her – not once. And now, for whatever reason, she was getting it all in one go.

She put both her hands on his chest and shoved hard.

He stumbled backwards, and she ducked away as fast as she could, only a wave of queasiness hit her and she swayed on her feet.
What the—

Silver.

Four large, full trays of cutlery to her left rested on a rickety looking wooden table. Honest to god, what was so wrong with her that she could
sense
the friggin’ stuff?

Simon flew into her from her right, catching both her wrists, or trying to anyway. She yelped and pulled one of her arms from his grasp, reaching out for the nearest thing she could because he was pulling her down to the ground… The nearest thing was the table the trays rested on. It rocked on its legs as she desperately grabbed its surface, and then the table and the cutlery fell on them both.

She screamed – partly at the silver already leaving hot pin pricks on her skin, and partly at Simon who’d latched his lips onto her neck, as he drove his knee between her legs. His knee hit the seat of her underwear, rubbing her there. He groaned, and she gasped in mortification when she realised she was wet. Oh, god, that must have been from eye-gazing with the blond guy – Simon was
so
going to get the wrong idea. Jesus fucking Christ, her stupidly high libido had just earned her disrespect –
how
could it do this to her?

“Don’t!” She tried to fight him off, but all she could properly think about was the burning sensation everywhere the silver touched her, and the growing heat between her legs. Spots swam over her eyes. Where the hell had her strength gone? Her vision started to fade.

No, no, no!

She was fainting – in slow motion or something. She could feel him ripping the other buttons off her blouse and she was bloody fainting!

Her great aunt tutted in her head.
Useless, Lydia…

There was a growl from her left – at least she thought it was a growl. Her ears were ringing too loudly to focus properly.

It made her think of Ryan. He had a habit of growling during sex. She smiled at that, and tried to conjure him up in her mind – being with him was nicer than being here, even if he was fake.

She couldn’t feel Simon’s hands on her any more, or his knee between her legs, thank god. Not that it really mattered, because she was rushing towards Ryan (who, she suddenly realised, smelled an awful lot like Taylor and that other man) … and the sweet oblivion that came from passing out.

~*~

He moaned, wondering how he could make any sound at all with his throat as dry as it was. But she was a godsend. Her. Lydia. Lydia and her beautiful hot mouth sliding up and down his ready-to-burst cock.

“
Lydia, Lydia, Lydia…” he whispered. “Make me come, baby. I want to come in that sweet mouth of yours.”

She sucked harder at that, taking him all in, her own moan vibrating off her lips which formed a ring around the base of his shaft.

“
Ooh, that’s it … that’s it …”

She reached under him and caressed his balls which instantly tightened at the unexpected attention. God, he was close.

“
I’m so fucking hard for you…”

Her hand replaced her mouth, and she suddenly gripped him hard and fisted him – long strokes; fast strokes…

“
Christ!”

And then she stopped.

He whimpered, as she pressed right down into the base of his cock and held him there on the edge, her other hand gently circling the crown of his head.

This time his groan was one of torment. Too much! “Lydia, please…”

“
I want you to touch me,” she whispered.

Yes, of course … of course…
Except he couldn’t move his arms. Why couldn’t he move his arms?

“
Please, Ryan … I need to come.”

Oh, god, he had to help her. Full moon. It was the full moon. He may have been imprisoned in darkness all this time, but he could
feel
the moon, fully waxed. She would need release…

“
Ryan, I feel like I’m dying…”

“
No! Don’t say that!”

And then she was crying; little sobs that wrenched his heart.

“
Lydia
—”

“
I need to come … Ryan … I’m burning … burning up… Touch me … please touch me…”

He roared himself awake, arms swaying in their chains, fury coursing though his body, only to have that fury freeze in place when his eyes met green slitted ones.

The female Trident held him firmly around the base of his hard-on, gently circling the tip of it, her seductive mating scent palpable, even if she was a breed apart from himself… and a corrupted breed at that.

He swung at her furiously with his legs, trying to buck her off him, anger and disgust taking over all other emotion, but she held on, squeezing harder. Her eyes flickered yellow briefly in what little light there was…

“Who’s Lydia?”

Stone cold fear stilled him. Sweet Jesus, what had he said?

“You’ve cried out her name before. I’ve been listening … you never knew I was here.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want what you want: a mate. I want
you
.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“It does for The Trident. We’ve been forcing ourselves into bonding with each other since the beginning, so we can reproduce. Successful breeding is so rare for us, but so easy for your kind once you have found your mate.”