Page 17 of Her Vicious Beasts: The Beginning
I can’t do any of that. I’m sweating. I’m wet and aroused and wired to the extreme.
It’s torture and I have no idea what to do. I pour water from my drink bottle into my cupped hand and splash it on my face. I slap my cheeks. I do star jumps to try and get rid of this insane energy I now have. Aunt Charlotte comes out to check on me, narrowing her eyes at my state. Then her eyes widen.
“What’s happened?”
I scramble to save face. She can’t know about this. No one can. If word gets back to my father, he’ll have the three of them executed immediately.
In any other animalia, this would be cause for grand celebration. Finding your mating mark on another was a success story, something to brag about. Something you tell your girlfriends and the women in your family, and you all jump up and down and scream in happiness together. Your aunts would tell you how to deal with protective alpha mates and cry, telling you how happy they are.
There were parties, engagements, drinks and dresses. A normal girl would hug and giggle with her aunt.
But I’m not a normal animalia and I can’t have them. I want to tear my hair out. I want to scream. Instead, I shake my head and grit out, “Too much coffee. Sorry.”
She doesn’t believe me, frowning and slamming the door shut behind her. She probably thinks I’m on drugs or something. In a way, I am.
I make it through the rest of the day, and eventually, I lie in bed that night. Sweating. Thinking. It ismadnessthe level of lust I now have, pouring through me like bubbling champagne. There is no way I’m going to sleep this wet, this writhing for my mates. My mind is a haze of desire and all it does is think about those muscular bodies sitting there in that prison when they should be here with me.
Savage and those lips. Dear god, it’s fodder for the biggest orgasm in the world. All this healing work has left me far moreempty than any amount of burgers and thick shakes can refill, and an earth-shattering orgasm will fix me right up.
My mind is now fixed upon Savage standing behind the bars of his cell, with his low-slung jeans, covered in dirt, the sheen of his sweat highlighting the ridges of his muscled torso. My hands find my neck and trail their way down my body, caressing the mounds of my breasts. I imagine Savage’s large hands stroking me down the swoop of my stomach and down the sheer fabric of my nightie. I hitch the hem up, dragging my fingers up the tops of my thighs and skimming my underwear.
I hiss, my back arching as I imagine Savage on top of me, his wolfish grin and hungry eyes waiting in anticipation. My right hand creeps into my panties while my left hand massages my breast. I circle my wet and throbbing clit, gasping at the feel of my own slick. I’m incredibly soaked and can’t help but plunge my fingers inside myself, exploring my wet heat. Gods, what would it be like if he were really here? If any of my mating group were here, touching me, telling me I looked like a princess? I would simply die, I think; combust into a thousand flames of pleasure. My lips whisper their names into the dark of my bedroom. The names of my strong, dangerous mates emerge from my lips like prayer:Savage, Xander, Scythe.
Chapter 12
Savage
Here I am, lying on my comfy dungeon floor, when the melody of a song runs down my spine in a warm caress.
I sit bolt upright.
Xander and Scythe shift too, except no chains are clanking with their movements. My heart pounds as every part of my being stands to attention.
I look over at Xander and realise that while his physical body is still chained to the wall, his astral body has woken up, blue-grey, transparent and frowning down at himself. I look down at my own body and see that I’m also blue-grey and see-through. My body still lies on the stone floor, eyes closed and asleep.
I barely have time to admire my own face before my attention is pulled by another, heady, quivering note.
Magic as old as time itself is in the air; delicious, strong, lusty.
Something has bypassed the magical shield around the dungeon and it can only be one thing:
The call of our regina. Our central mate.
I close my eyes and allow the song to take me, knowing the others will follow their instincts and do the same. It’s too enticing to deny, and the animus in me roars with happiness.
Our mate is calling for us, and by all the fucking wild and beastly gods, I want to scream to her that I’m coming.
I float upwards on the melody, my cock twitching and excitement spinning through me. I get to see my regina. I get to see the woman I’m destined to spend the rest of my life with, to worship, to fuck, to make love to, to… fuck.
Passing through the levels of Halfeather’s mansion, the night sky meets me with a thousand twinkling lights. I grin like a madman to be in the outside world again after so many months. I can’t see my bond-brothers, but I know they’ll be carried in by the melody of her song too.
I’m pulled through the night, over the highway and through suburbia and I memorise the way there—it’s imperative that I find her after we find a way to escape our imprisonment. The current lowers me towards a tiny, dilapidated unit, no more than a bungalow, set deep up a long drive behind another larger house. Adrenaline pounds through my body as the magic deposits me outside a bedroom window. I pass easily through the glass and into a small, darkened room where I feel Scythe, Xander, and two other shadowed presences with us—the fourth and fifth members of our mating group to complete our merry band of nutcases. I’ve never met them face to face, but I know they’ve been pulled here to satisfy our regina, same as me.
Speaking of our woman, she is, at present, writhing around on her bed in a tiny, thin, pink nightie, one hand in her panties, her eyes closed. Holy fucking Mother of all…
It’s Lia.
Her black hair is spilling around her head, loose from her ponytail, her beautiful face a mask of pleasure, pillowy lips parted. Long, shapely legs squirm on the bed and I’m struck by the desire to jump on top of her. I can’t believe fate brought her to us in our jail.
