Feral Sins (The Phoenix Pack 1)

Taryn would have refused his invitation, but to do that would give the impression that she was feeling too intimidated. She couldn’t afford to show weakness. After taking the seat, she said, “So you were going to explain what this is all about?” If she hadn’t been so in need of answers, she would have avoided talking to him at all. That rough, gravelly voice caressed her senses and almost succeeded in making her shudder.

“My Beta and my Head Enforcer brought you here a few hours ago.”

“What? Why? And how did they even get me to go with them?”

“They drugged you.”

Taryn gaped. He was too flippant and unremorseful for her liking. “They did what?”

“At the café. After you left and the drowsiness kicked in as you were walking home, Dante and Tao took you and brought you to me.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” began Mountain Man, “you still fought me and Tao like a wildcat before you went away with the fairies to dreamland.” He lifted his t-shirt to show her a set of claw marks that spanned his chest. Her marks, she realized. Although she was latent, she could partially shift. She also realized that Mountain Man was amused rather than angry.

“Wildcat is an understatement. No one ever marks our Beta,” a tall, olive-skinned wolf told her who she presumed was Tao – her other kidnapper. With his athletic build and chocolate brown hair, he was more her type. Unfortunately her wolf was growling her disagreement; she rather liked psycho boy.

“And the purpose of Operation Drug and Kidnap the Female Wolf is what exactly?” Her tone made it clear that no answer could possibly placate her.

Trey’s inward smile surfaced. She would be perfect for what he had in mind. In order to know for sure, he needed to tell some sweet little lies first and feel her out, find out if his suspicions about her supposed mating were true. “Roscoe Weston.”

Her wolf growled inside her head at the name. “What about him?”

“He has something I want. Something that he owes me.”

“Ah, and now you believe you have something he wants and that there’s going to be some sort of trade going on.” It was just her luck that she would get stuck in the middle of alpha games.

“You’re not so much insurance as you are a little reminder that he owes me and I’m not a patient man.”

And she wasn’t a patient woman. Nor was she partial to being drugged and kidnapped. But did anyone give a shit? No. It could be that she was latent or just that she was small, but people tended to judge her as being delicate, skittish and submissive. “Look, maybe in your culture it’s perfectly fine to drug and abduct a person, but it sure as shit isn’t acceptable in mine.”

“As soon as Roscoe arrives, you can leave.”

That wasn’t exactly fan-freaking-tastic news. A part of her wanted to rant and rave, but what good would it do? She would only end up being confined in that damn bedroom again and that would drive her and her wolf crazy. Also, she was a believer that it was best to have your enemy in sight. “Have you called him yet?”

“He’ll be here soon,” he lied. In truth, he hadn’t contacted Roscoe and he had no intention of doing.

“Well then, can the captive get a coffee or what?” she asked no one in particular.

Aside from psycho boy, Dante and Tao, there were four other males in the room; a broad frowner with a military haircut, a gorgeous blonde with caramel skin, a tall wolf with tousled dark curls and a clown-wide smile, and a burly rugged guy with claw mark scars across one cheek. It occurred to her that she could just label them Grumpy, Blondie, Smiley and Burly.

Other than Dante – who seemed strangely fascinated with her for having managed to claw him – none of the wolves looked at all pleased about her presence. She guessed that they weren’t a fan of her dad. Not many were. Even the wolf who was wearing a huge grin looked intrigued as opposed to friendly, and she had the feeling that his smile was permanently there. Or maybe he was imagining what it would feel like to rip out her throat and hand it bow-tied to her a**hole of a father. With his arrogance, deviousness and ‘I own the world and can do whatever the hell I want’ attitude, her dad was as good at collecting enemies as he was at gathering alliances. Even those who allied themselves with him only did so because of how influential he was – it was all just politics.

In response to her question, Trey nodded to a grinning Marcus who switched on the coffee machine and retrieved a mug from the cupboard. Trey tilted his head as he considered her. “You know, you’re not what I’d expected.”

“Is that right?” she said flatly.

“Roscoe usually likes airheads and submissives.” Blonde as she was, she didn’t have that bimbo look about her. There was no missing the sharp, keen mind behind those charcoal-grey eyes. “Funny how a person’s true mate can be the opposite of what they go for.”

“He’s not my true mate.” It came out snappier than she had intended.

“If you haven’t found your true mate yet, why would you mate with someone else? It’s not like you haven’t got plenty of time to find him. You can’t be much older than twenty-four, twenty-five.”

“My mate’s dead. He died when we were kids.”

“Well then that’s something you and I have in common. I also lost my mate a long time ago before I was able to claim her.”

Taryn took in his solemn expression and felt a pang of sympathy for him. The loss of a mate wasn’t something anyone could understand unless they had experienced that kind of pain themselves. “Sorry.”

He simply shrugged a little. “Hmm, now you and Roscoe as a couple make even less sense. If you’re not true mates, then that means he’s chosen a spitfire. It really must be love.”

“Huh.” Taryn had to bite back a snort. Love? Yeah, right. The reason Roscoe was so determined to f**k her was simply because she hadn’t responded to his charm and apparently his ego couldn’t handle the blow. As for why he wanted to take her as his mate…The only thing she could figure was that he wanted an alliance with her dad.

“When’s the mating ceremony scheduled for?” asked Trey.

Oh there would be no mating ceremony. Roscoe was keen to get it over with because her dad had insisted on there being one before he would hand her over completely – only so he had an excuse to have a get-together with all his alliances and look the big man. No way would she bind herself to someone she didn’t care for or even like. Then there was the matter of Roscoe being a control freak; she had picked that up from his interactions with his enforcers, all of whom were intimidated by him. She didn’t believe they were scared of him in a physical sense. It was as though he had some sort of hold over them, like he held their secrets in the palm of his hand or something like that.

Also, if the rumors were right, Roscoe got his kicks from inflicting pain on women. Considering he had forced his mark on her in the middle of a night club, she had no problem believing that. She had expected him to strike her after she practically crushed his balls with her hand in retaliation, but when he could finally stand and had finished panting, he merely smiled. It was a creepy smile that swore revenge, but he hadn’t stopped her from walking away. Apparently he was biding his time.

To escape the mating, her first stop had been her dad. As he wanted the alliance, she wasn’t getting any help from that corner. Her next stop should be her Alpha, but as her dad was the Alpha, that avenue was closed to her. She could try leaving the pack but that wouldn’t improve her situation. As a lone wolf without any protection, pack, or territory she would be easy pickings, and Roscoe would undoubtedly be the picker.

The only other person she had was her uncle – her deceased mother’s youngest brother – who she hadn’t seen since he mated into another pack ten years ago. Her plan was to ask him to approach his Alpha with the idea of accepting her into his pack, but she wasn’t optimistic. Although she was a healer, she was also latent and she couldn’t envision any Alpha being particularly interested in taking in a latent wolf. The question was, even if the Alpha did take her in, would he be prepared to challenge Roscoe if he – angry at being thwarted as only a control freak could be – came to bring her back?

She thought about telling Trey that she liked Roscoe even less than he did, but sometimes it was a case of ‘better the devil you know’ – and this particular devil was possibly worse than Roscoe. Instead of answering his question, she got herself comfy on the seat, crossing her legs yoga-like, and sipped the coffee that Smiley had placed in front of her.

“Does your silence mean you haven’t set a date yet?”

“Oh, didn’t I answer? That’s probably because it’s none of your business.”

He felt his mouth twitch into a smile. “You must be looking forward to soon becoming an Alpha Female of a pack.”

Something about his tone had her frowning. “Are power hungry females the only type you’ve known?”

He shrugged. “Isn’t it what every female wolf dreams of?”

“Oh yes, and I’m bowled over with excitement at my upcoming position.”

Strangely he found that he liked her sarcastic streak. “I thought you were a healer.”

“I am.”

“Typically they have gentle natures.”

“I fall flat there.”

“I heard you’re quite a powerful healer.”

She was. There were three different types of healers. Some worked on an emotional level, neutralising or healing emotional wounds. Others drew the aches and pains into themselves, acting more as a sedative and ensuring a speedy recovery. Then there those like Taryn who could heal the actual wounds within minutes, guaranteeing a recovery.

“Do you always sit in odd positions?”

“Just be thankful I’m not sitting on your countertop. That’s where I usually sit when I’m in the kitchen.” Maybe because it reminded her of all the times her mom had sat her there while they baked together, maybe not.

“What about in the bedroom?” he asked with what he knew was a wicked, suggestive grin. “Do you get in odd positions in there too?”

“Depends if the male can succeed in pinning me down.”

“Ah, of course. You’re an alpha.” And alphas, whether they were leaders of their own pack or just alpha by nature, didn’t surrender without the male proving their dominance. Just the idea of fighting to have Taryn submit to him had his c*ck throbbing and his balls aching. He knew she’d fight him like a wildcat.

He liked his women strong and feisty, but they were often too intimidated by him to challenge him. If they weren’t intimidated by his unapproachable air, it was the heavy dominant vibe he gave off. If it wasn’t either of those that intimidated them, it was how close his wolf was to the surface. That was if they weren’t scared enough initially by his reputation. The only female who had ever stood up to him – and still did on a regular basis – was his grandmother.

“Do you have any cookies or something to go with this coffee?”

Marcus placed a pack of his grandmother’s cookies beside her mug and she immediately delved into them. Trey’s gaze was helplessly drawn to her carnal mouth as she chewed. Images of those lips around his c*ck flashed through his mind, making his wolf growl inside his head. Then his entire body clenched as she sucked the dribbles of coffee from the tips of her fingers. Well f**k. What made the whole thing even more of a turn-on was that she clearly had no idea she was being watched by every male in the room. She was innocently and unknowingly provocative. Of course Roscoe would want her, but it was still difficult to understand him taking a spitfire for a mate. He was too controlling to mate with a strong-willed woman.

What Trey found even more difficult to understand was why Taryn would want Roscoe as a mate. Yeah he knew females tended to like Roscoe and his charming ways that hid his coldness, but Taryn seemed like someone who would snort at flowery words and oppose being with someone who wanted to control her. It didn’t make sense. They didn’t make sense. That was why he was thinking that maybe his suspicions about their supposed mating had truth in them.

One of his enforcers, Dominic, had come to Trey with the story of how he had stumbled upon Roscoe and a female wolf having some sort of struggle. Dominic had been ready to interfere when he saw the fresh bite on her skin – a claiming. He had walked away then; no shifter with any sense would try to interfere in a row between mates. Still, the whole scene had bugged Dominic because she hadn’t looked willing. What Trey hadn’t been able to figure out was why she would allow anyone to get away with forcing their mark on her. Her father was Alpha of the pack for Christ’s sake. Surely he wouldn’t allow that.

Trey knew the kind of things Roscoe Weston was capable of. Claiming an unwilling female would be nothing to him. Maybe if that female was submissive it would be nothing much to her, but Trey had only known Taryn Warner for five minutes and already he could tell that she was far from submissive or complacent. It didn’t make any sense. There was another thing supporting his suspicion that there was something very wrong about this mating… “You don’t smell of him.”

Thank God, Taryn refraining from saying aloud. Although Roscoe had left his mark on her, he hadn’t been able to imprint on her. Two wolves who weren’t true mates could still come together as mates and have a tight bond through the process of imprinting. That process couldn’t be sparked unless there were strong emotions involved and it also required a lot of physical contact. When two wolves were imprinted, their scents mixed and they developed a sort of metaphysical link. Even if Taryn ended up mated to Roscoe they would never have that link, because there was no way they would ever imprint. Unless the emotion of hate was able to spark it of course. “Hmm” was her only response.