Feral Sins (The Phoenix Pack 1)

“I’m your mate, but I don’t belong to you!”

“The two can’t be separated, it doesn’t work that way.”

Pissed off that he was right, Taryn growled her annoyance and struggled against him but he only tightened his hold on her hair.

“You’re not going to get away. Not until I’ve pumped every ounce of my cum inside you. Now, who do you f**king belong to?”

After a slight hesitation she conceded with a snarl, “You.”

“That’s right, baby, and just in case you’re ever tempted to forget…” He yanked her head back and bit down hard into the soft flesh of her neck where it would be visible for all to see.

Just like that, even though she hated what he’d done, a wickedly powerful orgasm crashed into Taryn and she screamed her release.

As her muscles closed bitingly around him, Trey exploded inside her with a loud, guttural growl/groan, marking her with his cum just as surely as he’d marked her with his teeth. Shit, he had never f**ked like that, never come so damn hard. He couldn’t decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing that this female could make him mindless.

As she collapsed forward onto the bed and Trey got a look at her body, he had the urge to slap himself. In addition to his claiming bite and the one he’d given her to cover Roscoe’s, there was a bite on her nape, there were claw marks on her back, his handprints on her ass, another bite on the very visible part of her neck, and claw marks on her h*ps where he’d held her. The worst of it was that every single one of those brands gave him and his wolf a kind of masculine satisfaction.

Goddammit.

CHAPTER FIVE

An overwhelming need to pee woke Taryn. The rays of moonlight peeking through the curtains had been replaced by sunlight, telling her it was early morning. Her intention to stretch was inhibited by the tanned, muscly arm and leg belonging to the wolf behind her, both of which were draped over her as if to trap her there. She smiled at that. Then her smile widened as she recalled being woken a few times in the night. Yeah it could be said that they had engaged in a sexual marathon. Trey was insatiable and had impressive stamina, even for a shifter.

Having wriggled out from under his hold, she went to answer the call of nature. She found herself staring longingly at the luxurious tub – a hot bath sounded fabulous…but her rumbling stomach had other ideas.

A few minutes later she was dressed and heading through the damn network of tunnels. The familiar black door that led to the kitchen wouldn’t be too hard to find; she could just follow the scents of meat and eggs and hot toasted bread. The chattering stopped as she entered and five strange faces looked at her curiously, though they didn’t seem surprised to see her. Obviously word had gotten out about Trey having finally brought her here.

As simple as this moment was, it was also pivotal. Her stay here wasn’t going to be a pleasant one. Her being Lance Warner’s daughter would be enough to make some wolves give her a hard time. It wouldn’t matter that her mating with Trey might ultimately aid their cause. She was still a Warner and there was no way any of them would want to answer to her. Also, the fact that she was latent meant that some people would regard her in the same way that Brodie did – a freak of nature, an easy target, someone who didn’t even count as a shifter. They would test her patience and strength, and make her stay here difficult.

As such, there were a few ways she could handle her first few moments in their pack. One, she could present them with a dazzling smile and introduce herself needlessly, hoping to win them over with a friendly attitude. Two, she could act aloof, distant, and ignore any attempts to goad her. Or three, she could just be her usual ray of sarcastic f**king sunshine and tell anyone who pushed her to go eat shit.

A bigger person would have gone with option two, but, well, she was a bitch. So she decided to go with number three. “Look, I’m not much of a morning person because I tend to sleep through it so if you’re hoping to piss me off then proceed with extreme caution. We’ll get along just fine though if you don’t treat me any differently than you would a princess.” With that, she nodded at the stunned faces and hopped up onto the countertop.

The plump brunette who had been pouring coffee for the others then approached her. “You must be Taryn,” she said, smiling. “I’m Grace. I cook, clean and say ‘shit’ a lot.”

“Ah, someone who speaks my language.”

She gestured at the dining table where croissants, toasted bread, bacon, scrambled eggs, baked beans, sausages, platters of cold meat, various fruits, and cereals were all laid out. “The wolf over there with the glasses and the goatee who’s the epitome of geeky, that’s my mate Rhett. The Bill Clinton lookalike is Brock, a cousin of Trey’s dad. The guy next to him with the spiky blonde hair and the baby face is Cam. And the unfairly gorgeous female opposite him with the unfairly great legs is Cam’s mate, Lydia.”

“Stop mooning over my mate’s legs, Grace,” groused Cam playfully before shovelling half a croissant in his mouth.

“You’re like a little doll,” said Lydia, smiling at Taryn. She was the only one other than Grace who had a smile for her. “No one would ever think you had such a smart, awesome mouth.”

“Coffee, tea, or orange juice?” asked Grace while Taryn took one of the empty plates and piled bacon, scrambled eggs and toasted bread on it.

“Coffee.” Plate in hand, she parked her ass back on the counter. At Grace’s amused but questioning look, she shrugged. “I always sit on the counter. A little quirk of mine.”

Grace’s gaze skimmed over her, taking in the various marks of possession that decorated her flesh. “Well, short of having ‘Property of Trey Coleman’ tattooed on your forehead, he couldn’t have made it any clearer that he considered you his, could he?”

Very true. In addition to those marks that Trey had left while they consummated the claiming, there were those that he had made during the second, third and fourth rounds that followed through the night. There was a bite at the hollow of her throat, another on her inner wrist, a third one on the swell of her breast, and also claw marks on both upper arms – and they were only the ones that weren’t hidden beneath her black t-shirt, navy jeans, and black leather knee boots.

And what had Trey’s response been when she told him that he may have overdone it a little with the marking? A shrug followed by a very smug grin.

Maybe it would be fair to say that if she hadn’t fought him so hard on the issue of belonging to him then she wouldn’t be in this state. Yeah, but that only applied to the first time. After that, she had conceded belonging to him as his mate, although she had snarled at him with every concession. He hadn’t had any need to keep it up.

She wondered if maybe the drive behind it had been that he had sensed that her admission was only half-hearted. Once she had belonged to someone and when he had been taken from her it nearly killed her, even though they had never mated. As it was, Joey had taken a chunk of her with him when he died. And that was okay, because that was his chunk to take. But she wouldn’t give that much of herself to another person again. Her soul wouldn’t survive the loss a second time as there wouldn’t be enough of her left to allow her to live. She would simply exist, breathing in and out and in and out, but nothing more. And this was a male who she would lose – that was a sure thing. So, yeah she would belong to Trey on a physical level, but no more than that.

It was actually best that way as it meant there was no chance whatsoever of the process of imprinting being sparked. Despite Trey’s mark-happy behavior, he didn’t want that any more than she did. It was simply in the nature of the male to want to completely possess his mate inside and out. This male would just have to make do.

“And I thought I looked badly marked up on my claiming night,” said Lydia.

“Can I, um, ask,” began Rhett, “is it true that you’re, um, latent?” At her nod he added, “Do you still feel your wolf or is she buried deep?”

Grace quickly interrupted. “You should know that Rhett is one of the most curious people to have ever walked the face of the Earth. Whereas he’s great with computers and anything technical, he’s not an expert with human emotion. It wouldn’t occur to him that he might offend you by bringing it up.” She shot him a reprimanding glare.

Taryn shrugged. “It’s fine. No, my wolf’s not buried, she’s very much aware and very much a pain in the ass.” Rhett seemed about to ask her something else, but a sharp look from Grace had him returning his attention to his meal.

“It’s going to be nice having some more female company,” said Lydia. “We’re way too outnumbered by the males.”

Taryn arched a brow. “There aren’t many women?”

“Well, there are three others but they don’t really count. Selma and Hope are your typical walking tributes to Barbie, and are both vain and bitchy. And Greta’s….well, she’s horrid.”

“Lydia,” censured Brock. “Have a little respect.” The look he gave Taryn was withering.

Lydia ignored him. “She thinks she rules the place because she’s the Alpha’s grandmother, likes to boss us females around. The males can’t do any wrong in her eyes. She mothers Trey, Dante and the enforcers something awful, calls them her boys. And, well, she doesn’t like females sniffing around her boys.”

“She’s even worse when it comes to Trey.” Grace’s smile was sympathetic. “Scares off every female who goes near him.”

“Surely she’s not going to want to scare me off when Trey needs to claim I’m his mate for his super plan.” Their winces said that wouldn’t be the case.

“Need a Warner? Now that’s a joke.” The deep voice belonged to a male who, though nowhere near as good-looking or muscular as Trey, bore a few similarities to him. He had the same strong nose and chin, the same artic blue eyes, the same height. Whereas Trey’s dark scowl somehow looked good on him, it made this guy look creepy. She only had to look at his posture and the flash of bitterness in his eyes to know the guy had a chip on his shoulder. She had to wonder just what that chip was all about. He took a seat beside Lydia and then glared at Taryn. “We don’t need a Warner, and we don’t need a latent.”

“I don’t need your approval,” retorted Taryn. “So f**k off.” That seemed to surprise him, but she wasn’t under the illusion that it would shut him up.

Grace sighed. She didn’t appear any happier by his presence than Taryn was. “That’s Kirk, Brock’s son, so he’s sort of Trey’s cousin.” She mouthed, ‘And an a**hole’.

His nostrils flared as he looked at Taryn. “If you think we’re all going to bow down to a Warner then think again.”

Taryn smiled at Grace. “Isn’t it great when just your very existence infuriates someone? You’ve got to love that kind of power.”

The sound of very merry whistling was soon followed by the entrance of Marcus and Trick. One look at the marks on her body and that clown grin took over Marcus’ face. Trick simply snickered.

“Hey little sister.” Trick ruffled Grace’s hair, earning himself a scowl and a smack on the shoulder.

“Go, sit, eat, don’t bother me,” she grumbled. Chuckling, he took a seat at the table and practically attacked the plate piled with slices of cold meet. “Here,” said Grace as she handed Marcus a goody bag. “See you later.”

Marcus opened it and sighed happily. “Is it wrong that I’d sell my soul for your cooking? If you weren’t already mated I’d snap you up.”

Grace rolled her eyes but a blush stained her cheeks. Taryn couldn’t blame her – the guy was seriously hot. Hell, all the enforcers were. “He’s guarding the gate today so he only has time to pop in and out,” she explained to Taryn after he had left the room.

Taryn looked up as Dante entered and went straight to the jug of coffee. He poured some into a Bart Simpson mug, inhaled the aroma deeply, and then took a sip. It was only then that he turned to everyone, apparently now equipped to interact with others as he had caffeine in his system. The instant he saw her he almost choked on his drink. She would have said she didn’t look that bad, but she did.

“Now I know why you kept yelling at him for biting you.” At her raised brow, he explained while grinning wickedly, “As Beta, my room’s next to the Alpha’s. How does he look?”

“You’ll see for yourself, won’t you.” In truth, she hadn’t marked Trey. Her wolf had wanted her to, had desperately tried to surface in response to Taryn’s resistance. But no chance was Taryn going to encourage his wolf’s sense of possessiveness by marking him back, not when this was temporary. Also, it would be easier on her wolf when they separated if she hadn’t branded him. It would be easier on Taryn too. Trey hadn’t questioned her about it or urged her to mark him so she could conclude from that that he was on the same wavelength.

Dante took another swig of his coffee. “I said that Trey – although he’s not usually possessive – would mark you up proper. The others, including Trey, thought he would be able to rein it in because you aren’t true mates. I have to say that I’m kind of enjoying that I was right.”

“Your life is that sad?”

“You don’t get it. Trey never marks his women. He’s always teased us whenever we’ve gotten even the slightest bit possessive with our partners. I’m just enjoying how the tables have turned.”