Page 42 of Auctioned to the Alpha

“I’ll get Mattias and Ryan out here. They’ll… they’d want to be part of this too.”

Dmitri nodded slowly. “We burn him tonight. When the moon is out.”

Knox stopped in his tracks. “What?Don’t you think we should get him back to Kellen first?”

Dmitri met his lieutenant’s gaze. “You really think they’d let any one of us leave alive if we delivered him his dead nephew’s body?”

“Yeah… guess, you’re right. Fuck, we’re in some shit here, aren’t we?”

The way Caleb had been killed—a signature terror tactic of their ancient enemy—was a dead-giveaway. They both knew it. There was no sense in pretending it was anything else. The question, though, remained.

Why?

It made no sense. There was something missing. A very big something.

“I keep coming back to the same thing, Knox. Why kill the lad? What’s gained?” He was young. Definitely not important to anyone but those who loved him. He’d normally be the verylastwolf in danger of being picked off by the enemy.

Knox ran a palm over the crown of his bald head. “Wish I knew—because maybe then I could have been here to prevent this. And the boy would still be alive…”

“You couldn’t have known.” Dmitri shook his head. “This isn’t your fault—or anyone else’s for that matter. This was amurder.”

Beyond that though, they had nothing more than suspicions to go on. It was maddening.

Dmitri clapped a hand on Knox’s shoulder. “Let me figure out how to handle all of this. I’ll make the call. Talk to Kellen. You just… just get that mess cleaned up.”

“Got it.” Knox headed toward the girl again, pausing just a moment, looking back at him over his shoulder. “Good luck.”

“We’re all gonna need it, I’m afraid,” Dmitri said. “Let me know when it’s done.”

“Where are you going?”

Dmitri grimaced. “Going to have a word with someone who might help us figure out what the fuck is going on.”

It was time to find out how much the FMBreallyknew.

CHAPTER17

Stacy

The water sluiced over her scalp, the steam rising all around her, the acrid, yet welcome warmth soothing her inside and out. She leaned both hands against the smooth tile, looking down at the drain, the rain of water steadily streaming down from the lengths of her hair, splattering against the floor of the shower.

And still she warred with herself.

Her pussy was sore, throbbing in a confusing way that was part pain, part want.

“God… that was… you fuckedup, Stace.” She hissed the words, careful to keep it down, lest prying ears outside the bathroom door be privy to her inner conflict.

You’re being an idiot. Stop beating yourself up. Just because it was good doesn’t mean you’ve betrayed yourself.

But it was a lie.

Even remembering what he’d done to her—what she’d done to him—had her pussy pulsing, the heat stoking between her thighs obvious even in the midst of the shower’s steam-filled closeness.

How was it that she was so pissed off, and yet… more turned on than she thought it was possible to be?

It was so hopelessly confusing, that relentless sense of being at war with herself, with being forced to make a choice between what was right, and increasingly what she couldn’t live without.

The heat, the need within her, it had taken on a life of its own. A will of its own. Even while she had been writhing under his incredibly hard, ruthless hand, she’d wanted nothing more than to just crawl all over him, beg him to take her.

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