WereSlave Read online

  How could he be injured? With his strength and immortality, she thought he could withstand anything. But Fenton had seemed so grave when he’d whispered in her ear that her WereSlave had tried to take his life. Mace had slit his own throat in an attempt to decapitate himself.

  No. It couldn’t be. He’d never leave his pack. He was loyal to them. But would he leave me? Her chest constricted and she carelessly stumbled on the hem of her gown at the top of the stairway, scraping her hands on the hard ground as she fell. Damn it. She didn’t have time for her clumsy ways. Mace needs me. Not bothering to dust herself off, she pushed to her feet and continued to her chambers.

  No guards were present, but Nayla didn’t find it odd since she’d given most of them the night off. The evening of the Harvest Ball was a jolly time for all of Paqualette, whether one was invited to the Ball or not. She assumed the remaining guards were downstairs, watching over the event.

  In any case, she’d ordered Fenton to send three up along with the castle’s physician. She wouldn’t allow Mace to die. He meant too much to her. She only wished she’d seen this coming.

  A lock of her hair fell from its tight bun and into her eyes. She shoved it behind her ear and pushed through her door, silently praying that Mace was okay.

  The room was dark except for the light of the moon shining through the opened terrace door. Nayla warily stepped inside and searched for any sign of Mace, or, God forbid, his blood. She saw nothing unusual except for that damn door. The boards had been pulled from it and thrown onto the floor.

  What was going on here? And where was Mace? Had he needed to change in order to heal? Or had he finally decided to attempt an escape?

  She took a few steps forward but stopped when she heard something much like the scrape of paws on the floor. Her breath halted as fear paralyzed her. A large black werewolf with round, radiant blue eyes stepped through the terrace door and into her chambers.

  “Do not fear me.” Mace’s husky voice came from the beast’s mouth. “I won’t hurt you, Nayla.”

  His enormous presence was ominous, as well as the shadow he created, like a nightmare come true. One of these monsters had murdered her parents, tearing out their throats and mercilessly clawing at their bodies. She’d witnessed it all with her own eyes and the memory made her ill.

  She couldn’t run, she couldn’t move at all. Her voice caught in her throat, keeping her from screaming. She’d never felt more helpless and she hated Mace for it. For all of it.

  The room was silent except for her gulps of air breaking through her clogged airway. What was he waiting for? Would he kill her now or would he torture her first?

  The jet-black wolf stood on its hind legs then, standing as tall as a grown man and Nayla watched, petrified, as his limbs grew longer and his torso shorter. His hair all but disappeared, leaving the long mane on his head. And his face took on a human form. The room filled with the sound of bones grinding and breaking, blood swishing and veins popping.

  Until what stood in front of her was the man with whom she’d spent the past fourteen nights. Not a killer, but her lover. A man she’d grown to trust with a degree of intimacy she’d never shared with anyone else, including Stephen.

  Even as he frowned, he was the most gorgeous creature she’d ever seen. Solemnly, he walked to her and braced her face. His thumb followed a single tear that had leaked down her cheek. She cringed at first, with the clear image of the wolf still fresh in her mind. How were they one and the same?

  “Is this why you dance with another man and not me? Because I frighten you?”

  Nayla couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad. She was confused, frustrated and she said the first thing she could pull from her muddled thoughts. “Fenton said you attempted to take your life.”

  “Fenton is evil. Don’t ever believe a word he says, do you understand?” His hands lowered to her shoulders and he shook her lightly. “I’m the one you can rely on. Not your councilman and certainly not the man who held you in his arms on the ballroom floor.”

  “You were there?” Could this get any more perplexing? She detested being misled.

  “Yes. Who is he? I need to know.” Mace’s callused hands slid down her arms and he gathered her against his naked body. He smelled of the cool evening air and pure man. No trace of the wolf was present, making her wonder if she’d hallucinated the entire event.

  No. It had been as real as him standing before her now.

  She shuddered. “He—he was an old friend.”

  Mace bowed his head and stared into her eyes, as if searching for something. “Do you love him?”

  “No, of course not. Why would you ask me that? What’s going on, Mace?” She brought her trembling fingers to his neck to check for any sign of injury. “Did you try to take your life? Answer me now.”

  He shook his head and peeled her hand from his neck. “I told you Fenton was lying to you.” He changed the subject. “Did you kiss that man? When he escorted you outside? What did you do with him out there?”

  “Nothing. We walked around the garden and chatted about nonsense. What does that have to do with anything?” Her temper boiled. Obviously she was being deceived, but why? Something was amiss and she needed to know what. “Damn it, Mace, what is going on here?”

  “Did he hold your hand? Did he make you laugh?”

  “I asked you a question and I need to hear your answer. I was told you tried to take your own life and you clearly did not.” Thank God.

  Instead, he was standing before her, passion in his expression, interrogating her about another man. How strange that she’d been thinking about him the entire evening? Even as she was dancing with Stephen, she imagined being in Mace’s arms, warm and secure. Free from the worry of what anyone thought of her, what her country needed from her. She didn’t have to think about any of that when she was with Mace. With just one touch, he made her feel like the center of the universe.

  None of that changed the fact that she was lied to, made to believe Mace was dying, when really he was transforming into a beast. What was Fenton’s game? And why was Mace playing along?

  “Did you want him, Nayla?” he growled. “Too bad if you do. You won’t be seeing that man again.”

  “Your jealousy is illogical and unwarranted.” Though she couldn’t help but want to calm his worries. She met his piercing gaze and continued. “Not that I should have to explain myself to you but Stephen hasn’t meant anything to me for years.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Nayla. I saw how you looked at him, how he made you smile.” He grabbed her wrists. “I feel like an idiot for thinking you’d ever see me as anything other than a monster.”

  “I’ve been nothing but good to you, Mace. How dare you try to make me feel guilty for enjoying an innocent dance.” Her pulse pounded at her temples as his grip on her wrists tightened.

  He didn’t relent. “Admit you’re afraid of me.”

  “Is that what you want? Do you want to frighten me away? Is that why you tricked Fenton to believe you were hurt, so I would come up here and see you like… like that?” She couldn’t even say the word.

  His jaw twitched as he stared down at her with what could only be described as resentment. “Let me show you something.” He took hold of her arm and guided her toward the open door.

  “Wait!” God, was he going to change again?

  “Relax, Nayla,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ll stay in my human form for your benefit. I don’t want to alarm the precious Queen.” He picked her up by the waist like a ragdoll, took three long strides and set her on the terrace overlooking the castle grounds. “Look closely. What do you see?”

  The terrace wall pressed against her waist as his large solid body fit firmly against her backside. At that moment, she didn’t know what Mace was capable of. They were two stories above the hard ground and he was obviously furious. Her heartbeat sped as the uncertainty clashed with her need to trust him. Was it naïveté or instinct assuring her he wouldn’t hurt her? B
ut there was always that chance… He was a werewolf after all.

  She took in a breath. “This is ridiculous. What am I looking for?” The half moon lit the tops of the surrounding forest trees but underneath was nothing but darkness. Closer to the castle, the ward was empty but for one drunken man singing to himself and stumbling about.

  “Watch the drawbridge.” His breath was hot against her ear. His hands braced her hips, pressing her backside against him.

  Nayla’s anger slowly fizzled, but she ignored the familiar heat burgeoning in her belly as she focused her eyes toward the lowered drawbridge. The lights that usually lit the way were out but she could see a few large figures running fast out the castle entrance. “What are they?”

  “Don’t you see?” His voice lowered, transforming to a sensual tone. “Look harder, Nayla. I want you to see what I see.” He skimmed his hands over her waist, slowly up her stomach to cup her breasts with his strong hands. “I want you to feel what I feel.”

  Her body defied her and she leaned back against his hard abdomen and chest, feeling his solid length, thriving and ready.

  He drew her earlobe into his mouth before releasing it. “Do you see?” “No,” she said breathlessly, not caring about his game anymore, even though she should. “Just tell me what’s going on, Mace. I want to go to bed with you and forget this entire evening. I thought I’d lost you tonight. I want you to show me you’re still here with me.”

  “I’m here.” He squeezed her sensitive breast with one hand while the other traveled down to her mound. He cupped her there and pressed a finger against the fabric, finding her heat.

  “Inside, please, now.” Not out in plain view of whoever decided to stroll out into the ward. Lord, what would they think of their Queen then?

  “No, here.” He leaned forward, forcing her to bend over the guardrail. His knee wedged between her legs, separating them, letting his finger find her sensitive clitoris. “You have to trust me, love.”

  “I will. I promise.” She rocked against his hand, wanting more. If she were quiet, no one would think to look up.

  “Good,” he murmured and gathered her skirt, inching it up until cool air prickled her rear.

  She hadn’t worn undergarments for the past several days, after learning he’d tear them off of her each time, anyway. They’d grown to be an annoying barrier, not worth the time. She smiled to herself, wondering what her country would think of her impropriety.

  But his warm cock against her backside pulled her from her thoughts. He wedged his soft unyielding flesh between her butt cheeks and slid it against her anus. She whimpered, but remembered to keep her voice down.

  “Did that human ever fuck you here?” He wet his finger and nudged it against her taut puckered entrance.

  She gasped at how sensitive she was there. “Mace?” She turned her head to see his unsmiling face.

  “Did he?”

  “No. Never.”

  “But he did fuck you.” It wasn’t a question. He didn’t wait for a response as he

  spread her folds and inserted his finger into her drenched pussy.

  Her walls clenched against the abrupt entry. He groaned behind her and slid in farther, pressing up against her responsive channel.

  “No one will ever have you here again, Nayla. This is mine.” He removed his finger and quickly replaced it with his hard, thick cock. He lunged forward, lodging himself deep inside her, pushing into her tight passage. “And this is yours,” he whispered against her ear. His arm wrapped around her, encompassing her entire body, possessing her.

  Nayla couldn’t hold back a moan any longer. The sweet pressure building up inside her burned and twisted, surging up her belly and down her thighs to her toes. “Ah, Mace. Make me come.”

  He slid out halfway and drove back in, filling her to the hilt. With his hands now on her hips, he held her against him, not letting her move as his cock crammed against her uppermost depth.

  “Yes, yes.” She held tight to the balcony railing and lifted her buttocks high toward him, allowing him even more of her.

  “Ah, love.” He moved his hand to her butt cheek and rubbed it, squeezed it. “Your ass is ripe and ready for me. Only me.”

  Nayla closed her eyes and inhaled in as his wet finger found her anus again. Slowly, he pushed past the incredibly taut entrance. Just an inch but her pussy spasmed blissfully at the bold move. “Oh, God, Mace, what are you doing?” Whatever he was doing sent a ripple of joyous sensations through her womb. She sucked in a breath as wave after wave of sensation rolled down her thighs.

  “Giving you pleasure. Do you like this?”

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  “Yes, that’s the way, love. You’re loosening for me already.” He began to work his

  cock into her pussy in slow rhythm as his finger penetrated her ass, stretching her, shocking her.

  She’d never thought she’d enjoy a man’s touch there, in such a personal place, but she put her trust in Mace and he wasn’t disappointing her. Her juices trickled down the inside of her legs as his slick thick shaft moved in and out of her channel, deep and slow. The steady movement along with his finger in her intimate, sensitive hole sent a warm tingling wash from her chin to her toes. She held tight to the railing, afraid she’d fall over.

  “Let go, love. I’ve got you.” Mace strengthened his arm around her, encompassing her completely.

  Nayla sighed at the thought of his strength, how he could give her such immense pleasure and keep her on her feet at the same time. How she could trust him with her body. All of her body.

  She cried out his name into the night air as another surge of heat rolled through her. “Mace. Oh, God, Yes!”

  He groaned. “Good, that’s good. Scream my name to the heavens, love. Let them know you’re mine.”

  Her body jolted as the climax spiraled and twisted, careening to the tips of her toes and back to her core, where it exploded into a million sparkles of heat. Her mind was fuzzy and her body weak with spent pleasure. “Come in me, Mace,” she whispered. “I’m yours.”

  “And I am yours, Nayla.” He removed his finger and braced her hips again, thrusting deep into her until he groaned again and released his hot cum inside of her quivering pussy. It spurted deep, filling her sensitive channel.

  “Oh,” she gasped at the wonderfully intimate sensation and leaned her head back against his chest.

  Their combined breathing and the distant sound of laughter and music were the only sounds in the air. Mace gathered her limp body tight against him and kissed her cheek. He was still buried hard inside of her, giving her delightful aftershocks.

  “Do you see them now, love?” he whispered in her ear. “They wait for us.”

  She opened her eyes wide as his words soaked in. Just beyond the exterior walls of the castle, right before the forest began, a dozen pair of glowing eyes watched them.

  Chapter Seven

  Mace made quick work of washing up, then dressing, jerking on his pants and linen shirt. Nayla’s paralyzed state of shock wouldn’t last long, he was sure. She sat on the edge of her bed and stared at him with her forehead wrinkled and her lips parted, her palms braced on her knees.

  He was glad she didn’t fight him yet. After she fully realized his plan for her, it would be a different story. He would be taking her from her home, her friends, her country. Away from this comfortable life with servants and guards and into a life as a homeless drifter, out in the rugged elements.

  As of this moment, he made an oath, swearing to himself he’d find some land and build her a worthy home. They’d be a family. She’d bear his children. Nothing else mattered as long as she was with him.

  His actions were both selfish and necessary. He couldn’t leave her here with her own councilman threatening to murder her. How many more wished to see her gone?

  His other reasons were less transparent. Nayla had imbedded herself deep in his heart, he couldn’t deny. The sting of seeing her dance with her ex-lover had re
inforced his feelings. Leaving her behind wasn’t an option.

  “Mace?” Her soft voice gained his attention.

  He wrung out a wet cloth in the basin and brought it to her, taking note of her puzzled stare.

  “You have to tell me what’s going on.”

  He swallowed the guilt eating at his gut. “First things first. Lay back and let me wash you. We’ve made a mess under your dress.” He attempted to smile and fell short. Hesitation flitted across her beautiful face, but she did as he asked and lifted her skirt.

  Mace grew hard again at the sight of her creamy bare legs. He grasped her knees and spread them, revealing her pink folds and entrance, swollen from their lovemaking. With a tender touch, he wiped the inside of her thighs, removing the signs of their combined juices. The sight was so lovely, it was almost a shame to remove it. He’d thoroughly enjoyed claiming her pussy and her ass at the same time. Seeing how much it pleasured her had made him crave more and he looked forward to one day penetrating her sweet, tight ass with his cock.

  If she’ll ever agree to let me touch her again after I take her from her home.

  He shoved that idea from his mind and swept the cloth down her mound to her pussy.

  “Your pack is free,” she said with a shaky voice she so clearly tried to hide. Even after what they’d just shared, he could still notice the fear under her façade. A façade he wanted to break down so he could see the real Nayla.

  Mace tore his eyes from his work and was surprised to see her staring up at him with teary eyes. The Queen of Paqualette wasn’t as tough as she let on. Though she quickly swiped the evidence away with the back of her hand.

  “Yes, love, they are,” he said.

  “I—I’m happy for them. If they’re anything like you…” Her voice faded. “They’re all good-hearted.” He hoped she’d see that when she met them outside the