Discarded Cowboys

Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 2

Discarded Cowboys Talaitha’s first mistake was luring the erotic cowboy she recognized from her dreams into a werewolf trap. The second was visiting her captive and watching while his equally sexy cage mate claimed him for his own. Russell and Drew want to wrangle her as their third, but Romani and werewolves could never mix—even if shifters hadn’t been responsible for her mother’s untimely death. For years, Talaitha has known her destiny is not to remain the scorned daughter of the gypsy clan leader, but she can’t allow herself to fall for the seductive creatures who know she is their mate. When their plan for escape involves her kidnapping, she won’t be taken without a fight—and in order to truly claim her, the cowboys will have to rescue her from the enemy she never knew she had. Genre: Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Vampires/Werewolves, Western/Cowboys Length: 43,539 words

DISCARDED COWBOYS Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 2

J. Rose Allister

MENAGE AMOUR

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

DISCARDED COWBOYS Copyright © 2011 by J. Rose Allister E-book ISBN: 1-61926-174-X First E-book Publication: December 2011 Cover design by Jinger Heaston All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

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DISCARDED COWBOYS Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 2 J. ROSE ALLISTER Copyright © 2011

Chapter One Talaitha was in a hurry again, an ironic condition for someone who’d spent half the trip to Shay Falls feeling as though her life was frozen in suspended animation. “Make sure you bring the white sage this time!” her father was yelling. With her back to him, he couldn’t see her eyes roll. “I know, Papa.” “Hurry, child. It’s getting away! Vanje, watch out! Don’t let it get its teeth in you.” The men were shouting orders to one another in a mixture of English and Romani while she raced toward the RV. Child, he’d called her, and not just because she was his only daughter. When would he ever see her as something less than inept? Talaitha hefted her long skirt enough to climb the steps into the vehicle she called home, trying to recall where she’d last seen the white sage bundle. She was frantically digging through a wooden box of supplies when she heard a scream loud enough to prickle the hairs along the back of her sweat-dampened neck. One of the men was being attacked.

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She clenched her teeth and slammed the lid shut, almost forgetting the matchbox on her way out. She was already muttering the incantation on the run as she lit the sage bundle, releasing thick tendrils of white smoke. When she approached the group, she steered far clear of the battle in progress and walked a perimeter around them, tracing a white smoke circle in the air. “Counterclockwise, Tal,” her father said. As clan leader, the great Zakono Koppel was nothing if not good at giving orders. His grizzled face was compressed into a determined squint while he and four of the others, each bearing long metal poles with loops attached, surrounded the creature. She subdued the urge to point out she was already walking counterclockwise, instead focusing on her spell. “For protection I draw this circle,” she proclaimed. “For me and mine, no harm may come. To the darkness lurking within, you are bound. You cannot pass.” Birds that had been chattering excitedly from the pine trees surrounding the campsite fell suddenly silent, and a breeze arose to caress her words and waft strands of dark hair around her face. As she reached the halfway mark, she had to step around poor Vanje, who was lying on his back on the ground. The man was gritting his teeth, and his dark eyes were narrowed in obvious pain from a wound bleeding freely on the forearm he was clutching. If he had been bitten, legend said he would change quickly. Tonight began the full moon cycle, after all. Either way, she had no time to stop and see to his aid. She conducted herself around the rest of the circle, enclosing Vanje inside, just in case. The purifying smoke from the sage joined at the ends to finish the ring just as Zakono’s loop slipped around the animal’s neck. She watched from just outside the protective circle, the sage still smoldering in her hand, while her father wrestled with the creature. How bold for the animal to walk right through a campground before the sun had even finished setting. Bold and unfortunate, for it clearly had been shocked when her people set upon

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it, intent on its live capture. Perhaps local folk did not recognize the being for what it truly was. But the Romani had a long and arduous history with all sorts of dark secrets that gadje—non-Gypsies—had no idea existed. The hauntingly majestic white wolf planted its front feet wide apart, jerking its head up and down to fight against her father’s restraint. When that failed, it began to quiver, almost shimmering before her eyes. She blinked as its fur rippled, then began to retract. Within moments, all that remained of the animal it had been was a pair of wicked gold eyes that caught hers and held them in hypnotic fascination. The rest of the creature transformed around that yellow gaze until she found herself staring at a rather spectacularly naked man with shockingly bleached-blond hair. His hands flew up to his neck, grasping at the loop tightening like a noose. When he rose up, her gaze dropped to a sight she had never seen before. Her eyes widened at the cock between his powerful thighs, and she gaped as the organ bounced back and forth with the man’s every frenzied attempt at escape. The others stood frozen, and she wondered why they weren’t rushing in to loop their cinchers over his head as well. Her father was a strong man, but he was getting older. He would be no match for the strength of a werewolf. As soon as she had the thought, the blond man staggered to his feet. He was taller than any of the men around him, and packed with a good deal more muscle. “Fuck off,” he shouted, spittle flying from perfectly bowed lips. “All of you. Get this damn thing off me.” He gave a feral lunge forward, and the pole ripped free of Zakono’s hands and hit the dirt. It dragged behind the stranger as he sprang straight at Talaitha. His eyes glowed wild with yellow fire and desperation, and she stiffened. She clutched the sage in her hand like a weapon while she prayed for her spell to hold. The man picked up speed and drew close enough for her to see his nostrils flaring, as though he was scenting her. Her resolve to hold

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steady was giving out, and she was about to jump out of his way when the man hit her magic. He literally bounced backward off of nothing, shaking his head and staggering. His eyes glared at her in disbelief, but the brief distraction had been enough. Her father snatched up the pole and called to the others. “Bring your poles,” he shouted. “Get the loops over his head now. Whatever you do, don’t break Talaitha’s circle.” Soon, two other loops were cinched around the man, and for all his attempts to wrench free, the tripod of captors held him tight in their grip. The man was strong, she had to give him that. All of his kind were. But three against one, especially with her spell at work, proved too much for him. “Tal, go tell Tomas to bring the cage,” her father said. “You already sent him to start the build up,” she said. Her father’s eyes sparked. “Then get someone else, girl. Use your head. Go!” Suppressing a flash of irritation, she extinguished the smudge stick by grinding the tip into the dirt at her feet. A wayward spark flew off and hit the top of her sandaled food, but she ignored the brief sting and took off into the caravan in search of someone to bring the animal cage that was occasionally occupied. It was while she was on her way back, when she’d detoured through some bushes to avoid the truck towing the requested cage behind her, when she quite literally tripped over the second shocking sight of the day. “Li’ha’eer!” she cried out, righting herself just in time. She spun around and gaped at the stomach-clenching sight sprawled on the ground. This man’s hair was much darker than the stranger her father had captured, though not as dark as the near-black tresses Talaitha’s Gypsy heritage had gifted her with. His hair color was closer to the tree trunks rising around them, brown strands that were tousled in thick, appealing waves covering his face. She’d tripped right over his

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naked torso while he lay face down on the ground, but he didn’t move. His eyes were closed, but he appeared to be breathing. Her eyes skimmed each ripple of muscle along rounded shoulders and a broad back, coming to rest on the pale, perfectly round buttocks below his tapered waist. Heavens, but she’d seen more naked man flesh in the past half hour than she’d seen in her entire adult life. When her gaze finally rose from the ripe backside that held her interest for a good while, his profile struck a familiar chord in her chest. Her pulse began a faint hum of warning, but she bent down to peer closer at his finely chiseled nose, square chin, and long sweep of curly lashes. As carefully as she could, she delicately brushed the bangs from his face—and stifled a gasp. There was no denying it. She knew this man. She gaped in shock at the star of years’ worth of nighttime fantasies. This was the handsome gadje she’d waited for, the one who was supposed to sweep her off her feet and take her away from a dreary, rootless existence. She didn’t need to see Western clothing or hear his sexy drawl to know he was a cowboy. Nor did she need to see his eyes to know they were the deep, potent green of a dimly lit forest. Long after she’d given up hope, he was here. He was real, a flesh-and-blood man. And oh my, what an impressive display of flesh it was. Her heart pounded a steady drumbeat, but began hammering wildly when his eyes abruptly flew open. She hadn’t realized her hand was still on his head, stroking his thick waves. She snatched her hand away and shrank back, but it was too late. His gaze regarded her in narrowed scrutiny, and the telltale glimmer in his eyes shattered every hope she’d had of a future with her handsome fantasy stranger. She gasped at the gold flecks that marred his dark green irises, betraying him for what he truly was. That yellow glimmer had never been present in her dreams, meaning her Gypsy foresight had proven false. They could never be together now.

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Feeling a much bigger stab of disappointment than seemed possible for a man she hadn’t even officially met yet, she jumped to her feet and spun around to leave. “Wait,” he said weakly. “Don’t go.” That voice, so rich and velvety. Like thick, golden honey pouring over her and sticking her legs in place. Still, she kept her distance as she turned back to him slowly. He pushed himself onto his knees with a wince of obvious pain, and she fought the simultaneous urges to rush to his side and stare at the part of him that would be revealed as soon as he succeeded in getting upright. He tilted his head to one side, then the other, and rotated his shoulders as if checking to see if his joints still worked. With a grunt, he hauled himself to his feet—and Talaitha promptly turned her head away. “You saw me fall and came to help,” he said. “Thank you.” The cowboy accent came out in his words, just like she knew it would. He was the man of her dreams, down to the last detail. Except for one vital fact that would divide them forever. No matter. She’d waited around for her destined lover to show up long enough, only to be disappointed year after year. She had devised a plan of her own for leaving her Romani existence behind. The fact that the cowboy had finally arrived changed nothing. “I didn’t see you at all,” she said. “I tripped over you. I’m sorry.” She blinked and glanced around. “What do you mean, you fell?” When her gaze came back to him she held a hand up strategically, blocking the view of his cock. He tilted his head back and pointed upward. “I was in that tree right there.” When her eyes lifted to follow his stare up into the nearest pine, she sucked in a breath. “How on earth did you manage to get up there? That tree must be fifty feet high. There are no low-hanging branches.”

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“Wasn’t easy, I’ll tell you that. Pops always used to say it was a might bit harder comin’ down a tree than gettin’ up one. Ain’t the way I see it.” When she realized he was watching her intense scrutiny of him, she averted her head again but left her hand in front of her in case she might be tempted to peek below his lean, toned waist. And considering the flashbacks of favorite dreams his appearance was conjuring, she was definitely tempted. Either he read her thoughts or the reason for her outstretched hand, because he moved behind a waist-high bush. She lowered her hand. “You fell fifty feet and barely have a scratch on you?” Four scratches, from what she’d seen—two on his forearms, a rough abrasion on one thigh, and a stripe of angry red over his chest that looked like he’d taken a lashing. “I guess you’d know, from the way you’ve been starin’.” His thick drawl was laced with a tinge of humor. “Not that I don’t appreciate a thorough visual examination by a beautiful woman.” She scowled. “Hardly thorough, and I wasn’t staring. I didn’t even see anything that counts.” That wasn’t strictly true. Even now, the hard lines of his broad, smooth chest and the flexing biceps toyed with her senses, making her stomach quiver. “That almost sounds like a complaint. I can remedy that in a flash, if you’d like.” He made a move as if to come out from behind the bush, and she sucked in a breath. “No!” she shouted in panic. Her hand flew up in front of her again, which stopped him with a chuckle. “That isn’t the point,” she went on, wishing her voice didn’t sound so shaky. “You shouldn’t even be able to stand up after a fifty-foot fall. Every bone should be broken.” The man should be dead, by all rights. Not that he was a man, strictly speaking. She knew why he survived. Why ask questions she didn’t need nor want answered?

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“I wasn’t near all the way up the tree. And I come from pretty hearty stock. My ankle’s seen better days, if that makes you any happier.” She shot him a look. “What were you doing up there, anyway?” So far as she knew, wolves weren’t into tree climbing as a hobby. “Hidin’ from someone I didn’t want to deal with.” His tone had gone serious, but a smile brightened his features the way sunrise shines promise onto a hopelessly long night. “Lost my footin’, and next thing I knew, I woke up to a pair of mesmerizin’ brown eyes.” She shook off the heady spell his seductive smile and pretty cowboy twang were weaving. “Who were you hiding from? Was it the other wolf?” The smile vanished. “What do you mean, ‘other wolf’?” She planted her feet apart to keep herself steady. “You know exactly what I mean. I know what you are.” Now he came out from behind the bush, staring her down like a predator. A very dangerous predator with the power to render hapless female victims paralyzed—or so it seemed from the way she froze in place. His limp was pronounced, confirming his story that he’d injured his ankle, but he pressed forward. She couldn’t help but glance at what she’d been avoiding. His cock lay long and thick between powerful though scratched-up thighs, and rather than bouncing limply with each step the way the blond man’s had, this member was fairly straight and seemed to be pointing several inches ahead of him. “I know who you are,” he said, his voice low and laced with a hint of seductive threat. “And I saw in your eyes that you know who I am, too. As for what I am, well, I’m gonna have to ask you what it is you think you know about that.” Her pulse fluttered faster with each step he took, and she wondered why she didn’t turn and run. Her mind was shouting at her to do just that. But her breath was caught in her throat, and her feet were cemented to the ground. It wasn’t until he was almost close

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enough to reach out and touch her that she finally remembered to breathe. “I’m hardly some ignorant tourist,” she said, her voice hoarse. “My people are Romani. I’m well-versed in your kind.” That seemed to bring him up short, and he stopped. “That a fact? Romani.” He eyed her up and down, bringing her blood to a slow boil. “You don’t mean like Gypsies?” Her eyes narrowed. “Try not to spit the word out like you’d almost swallowed a stinkbug.” “I’m just a mite surprised.” His gaze slid along her white knit top and long cotton skirt. “I never realized my mate was a Gypsy. But I recognize you, all right. And I know you recognize me.” She swallowed. “I recognize the truth about you. That’s all.” “And what truth is that?” His voice dropped to a heated whisper as he started forward again. “That we’re destined to be together?” She shook her head, willing her body to take flight. “No. The truth that you are a creature I could never, would never be with.” Those words failed to stop him this time, and soon his inhumanly glittering eyes were mere inches from hers. “Are you so certain about that?” His head dipped toward her, and though she licked her lips automatically, she knew she didn’t dare let him kiss her. She had to think fast, while she still could. Her hand flew out to land on his hot chest, and she gave a firm shove. “I can help you,” she blurted out. He wavered. “Oh, I’m sure you can.” “My people know magic,” she stammered, wondering whether she was really about to do this. “There’s a spell that can cure you.” The hand that was reaching for her halted. “Ain’t no magic cure for what I’m thinkin’ right now, darlin’.” “It’s a full moon spell,” she went on. “A magic derived from the moon itself. The power to cure a werewolf.”

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Now his hand fell straight to his side, and he stared at her for a moment. “Who says I want to be cured?” “None of my dreams showed me the curse you’re under. I’m betting this either happened recently, or is not a destiny you wish to embrace. Maybe both.” “So, you admit you’ve had the dreams.” He studied her face intently, and she did her best to keep a mask of calm in place. “What would I need to do for this cure?” “Come to my camp,” she said. “I have all the supplies I need there.” Indecision seemed to flicker in his expression, and she reached out to lay a hand on his arm. “Tonight begins the full moon cycle, doesn’t it?” She spoke through gritted teeth, willing herself not to pull her hand away and stop the maddening tingles of contact shooting through her. “Just think what life would be like if you no longer had to worry about controlling the curse.” He nodded, seeming speechless for a moment. “Finally.” He shut his eyes for a moment, as though in silent prayer. “Guess I know why a Gypsy was chosen to be my mate. Fate knew you would free me and give me my life back.” Guilt left a bitter taste in her mouth at the almost hauntedsounding hope in his words. Still, she forced a smile onto her face. “Come with me. We made camp right through these bushes. You can be free of the curse before nightfall.” She slid her fingers down his arm to take hold of his hand and almost wished she hadn’t. His body temperature was so warm— another hallmark of shifters—but the dampness erupting in her palm when his fingers laced hers had little to do with it. Sparks of need, of recognition, trailed up her arm. Every inch of her body tingled acknowledgement of their highly compatible chemistries. “How does the spell work, exactly?” he asked as they pushed through a clump of brush. They stepped into the clearing just as her father happened along. His dark eyes dipped straight to her and Russell’s clasped hands, slid

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over the shifter’s naked form, then landed on her eyes with a chaotic blend of anger and fear. “Talaitha! What do you think you’re doing?” he asked with undisguised incredulity. “I assumed you’d gone off to start cooking with the women. Instead, I find you strolling along with this…this…” he trailed off, his face reddening unattractively. “Papa, don’t be angry,” she said. “I found this man in the woods and offered our help to break his curse. I was about to put him in the cage so I can perform the full moon spell. To cure him.” She widened her eyes at the last sentence, giving her father a pointed look. To his credit, Zakono caught on quickly. “Yes, I see. Of course.” Her fantasy man was not similarly impressed. He yanked his hand away and turned to her. “Cage? You didn’t say nothin’ about that. I don’t do cages.” Zakono flicked a gaze to the man. “A mere precaution only,” he said in a mock-reassuring tone. “You must understand, it is for our protection. There is a good chance you will change during the spell. It is a small price to pay for our assistance in curing you, no?” Glittering eyes flicked wildly back and forth between Talaitha and her father, seeming to measure them both. She did her best to keep her expression neutral when the naked man’s gaze landed on her for a long moment. Finally, he relaxed. “All right.” “Right this way,” Zakono said, affecting a tone of welcome as he started off in the direction where Talaitha knew the other werewolf was already caged. That would be interesting to explain. While she walked behind the men in silence, she considered potential explanations so they could get this other shifter into the cage with the other one without a fight. Oh, why hadn’t she thought it through before opening her mouth? “Seems there are others of you in the area,” Zakono went on. “Another just came to us, in fact, pleading for help. He is quite distraught and upset at the moment about full moon’s approach, as

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I’m sure you can understand. He is desperate to be free of the curse before moonrise. We will perform the ritual on you both together.” Talaitha blinked at her father’s quick lie. The man definitely thought fast on his feet, something she wished she had inherited. When they approached the cage, the blond man was facing away from them, displaying perfectly round buttocks and thick, hard thighs. They were still several feet off when he whipped around to face them, and his eyes immediately narrowed at the sight of the other shifter. “You know one another?” Zakono asked, his step wavering slightly. The man beside her shook his head, and she stifled a sigh of relief. Good. Hopefully the caged one wouldn’t be able to relay any silent message to warn him off, the way it seemed their kind could do with others in their own packs. “No matter,” her father went on. “You have some things in common. I’m sure you’ll be fast friends after this.” She heard the rattle of keys while he pulled them from his pocket, and the blond heard it, too. His eyes went wide. No doubt he would charge the door the moment her father opened it. A short metal ramp extended from the back of the trailer bed housing the cage, and Zakono waved the shifter ahead of him as they climbed it. The caged creature cocked his head. “You’re comin’ to this willingly?” She was surprised to note his voice held a similar Western twang to her mate’s, or rather, the man who might have been. He nodded. “Desperately. As are you, I’m told.” The other stared at him, clearly confused. “Is that what you were told?” Her stomach tightened. Strangers or not, the other shifter might well reveal their trick before they could maneuver this one into the cage. Zakono moved forward with the keys, and from behind his back she saw him pull out a long glint of metal.

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“You’re a damn fool,” the blond spat. That made the man in front of her pause, stiffening. “You never did tell me your name,” Talaitha said hurriedly, pushing in front of her father. The man turned to her, and with their relative positions on the ramp, he towered over her even more now. “I’ll need your name for the spell.” He eyed her. “I’m Russell. Russell Steven Adams.” The blond stepped forward, stopping halfway to the cage door. “Well, Russell Steven Adams,” he said in a sarcastic mockery of Russell’s more-pronounced drawl, “you’re a fuckin’ idiot.” “But I am not,” Zakono said. Her father’s quick motion startled Russell into a double take, but he was no more shocked than she was. Her father pulled hard on her long hair, exposing her throat to the cool, sharp blade he now held against it. She could feel his hot breath on her ear. “Get into the cage, dog, or I’ll slit her throat.” She gasped in horror, and her eyes flew wide, meeting Russell’s. In contrast, his had flared into bright golden flames that were narrowed into slits. “You lied to me,” he said, and while his rabid gaze was fastened to the man behind her, she knew his words were directed at her. “Now the pup catches on,” the blond said. Russell ignored him and folded his arms. “I know you ain’t gonna harm a hair on her head. She’s your daughter.” Zakono yanked back hard enough on her hair to unleash a sting of tears and send a yelp of pain and surprise from her throat. “You know nothing about what I am capable of,” her father said. “But I assure you, you will find out if you don’t get into that cage and see to it the other doesn’t escape in the process.” The man made a move to hop off the ramp, but froze when the knife edge bit into Talaitha’s throat. “Don’t pretend you don’t care what happens to her,” Zakono said. “I saw the way you looked at her. It would be a shame to damage such beauty, no?”

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“I could rip you in half, Gypsy.” Russell’s words froze like ice around her pounding heart. “Not without risking my knife slipping across her throat.” She felt the sharp, silver blade dig painfully into her skin. A warm, wet drip slid down into the hollow between her collarbones. Her father had actually drawn blood on her. The knife was pressed so tight that she dared not give in to her nervous quiver, let alone swallow. God, would he really do it? Tears blurred her vision of Russell’s murderous expression. “Better hurry,” Zakono said. “My hand is getting tired.” Russell’s nostrils flared as he hesitated. Then he turned back to the cage. The blond was still at the door, gripping the bars. “Step aside,” Russell said in a shaky voice. “Hell no, I ain’t,” the blond said. “Let ’em slit each other’s throats for all I care. I’m gettin’ out of this monkey cage.” “You best stop him if he tries,” Zakono warned. “He might accidentally bump me on the way out.” “Don’t listen to his bullshit,” the other told Russell. “And so what if I bump him? What do you care if a dirty Romani dies?” She heard Russell let out a low, throaty growl. “Call my mate that again, and you’ll find out. Now back the fuck off.” When she blinked away the fuzzy view through her tears, she saw the other man’s demeanor had changed. The blond’s gaze flicked to her, then Russell. Finally, he stepped back. “Fine. Come on in and join the party, Russell Adam Stevens. Two wolves are better than one.” She stared at the man, wondering about his dizzying about-face. Was it a trick? “And what’s your name, blondie?” Russell said. “Vanilla Ice?” “Drew,” the blond said. “Or should I say, Drew Allen Charles?” “Enough,” Zakono shouted. “Get in.” “I need the keys,” Russell said over his shoulder.

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Her father tossed them from behind her, and with dead-on precision, Russell caught them midair. With such surefire reflexes, it seemed impossible to believe that he had been clumsy enough to fall from a tree right in her path. Or had it been fate? The cage door creaked open, and without another word, Russell stepped inside. The other man—Drew—made no move to rush the door. “Shut yourself in and lock it,” Zakono said. A muscle in Russell’s jaw twitched, but he did as instructed. He threw back the keys, which sailed through the air. Her father’s reflexes weren’t quite equal to the task, and the ring landed with a loud clatter on the ramp. The second she felt his hold loosen, she twisted free of his grip and shoved herself back. Whirling on her father, she had a stray memory of the man who’d once bounced her on his knee and promised he would never let anything harm her. “Don’t give me that look, Talaitha,” he said. “I only did what was necessary.” “Yeah, Talaitha, don’t waste the energy.” The sound of her name on Russell’s lips echoed through her strangely. “He wouldn’t really have hurt you.” The look Zakono leveled on Russell made her wonder. “I would do a lot of things that may surprise you.” “Like father, like daughter, then,” Russell said, turning to her. “Your lie surprised me, that’s for damn sure. I can’t believe you tricked me with some phony full moon spell.” “Oh, she wasn’t lying about that,” Zakono said. “There is a full moon spell. It just doesn’t do what you thought it did.” He fell into the Romani tongue, murmuring the incantation in a rhythmic, threatening tone. With a gesture he waved at the blond man, who immediately fell straight down in a heap. Or rather, that was the way it looked at first glance. In reality, his body shrank into his wolf form, with fur as pale as his bleached hair.

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“There, you see?” Zakono went on. “The full moon spell has the power to force your vile darkness to the surface whenever we choose.” “So, it isn’t a cure.” The still-naked man stared at the wolf sitting on its haunches beside him. The animal blinked, clearly stunned. Then Russell turned back to Talaitha with an open glimmer of hurt in his eyes. “I can’t believe I trusted you.” He grabbed at the bars and shook them. “That this was what you had planned.” The accusation shouldn’t have jabbed like a spear thrust. She barely knew him—and he was cursed. Wrong. But that didn’t stop his words from twisting inside her until she felt nearly sick. “Never trust a pretty face,” her father said, taking hold of her chin. “Her husband found that out firsthand. Didn’t he, bedako?” She yanked her head from his grasp while Russell scowled. “Husband?” His eyes glowed brighter gold, and she reflexively flinched. “You’re married?” Zakono growled. “A long story that is not for gadje ears. Not that you are even as good as a gadje.” He spat on the ground. “Prastlo rikono.” “No idea what a ‘praso loco’ is, but it sounds bad,” Russell said, his eyes sparking with danger. “Sounds like your father don’t approve of me, darlin’. But either way, you and I have a destiny. And a lot of talkin’ to do.” “You are finished talking,” Zakono said before she could answer. “And a murderous, damned dog has no destiny with my daughter. Does he, Talaitha?” Her heart was beating so fast she felt her head grow light. “Of course not.” “In fact,” her father went on, “perhaps you should join your new friend on all fours. You’ll be spending quite a lot of time together.” He made another gesture and muttered some words, and Russell shrank into a reddish-brown wolf. The animal leaned forward, pressing its nose to the bars with a slight whimper.

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Her father snorted. “Much better.” He turned to Talaitha, who stepped up the ramp away from him. “Now, my daughter, I’m sure the women are wondering what’s keeping you from your duties. Unfortunately, you have touched filth. You are marime now and cannot aid in meal preparations. You must be separated until the proper cleansing rituals have been observed.” She lifted her chin. “And you have touched me, so you are unclean, too.” Perhaps in more ways than she had ever before considered of him. “You must also remove yourself.” He grunted. “And I would do so again, if need be. Don’t fret, daughter. You have done well today—surprisingly so. Quite impressive, leading this ruv right to our camp without a struggle. Now we have two of the moon-cursed to use. It seems your insight in selecting this location has proven quite perceptive.” He held out a hand to gesture her down the ramp, and with one final glance back at the wolves standing at the front of the cage, staring at her, she walked away.

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Chapter Two The voice came from just outside her consciousness, drifting like a comforting, warm breeze. “Talaitha,” it whispered. “I know you want this. I know you want me. Show me.” She knew it was Russell without even thinking, partly because of the way her body automatically responded to the seductive cadence of his tone. “I’m waitin’ for you, darlin’. Waitin’ for you to come to me.” The pinch of fingers on her nipples sent a cry out of her, and her eyes flew open. She blinked rapidly, reorienting herself to the inside of the tent where she sat. Her hands fell away from the breasts she herself had been caressing during her little fantasy. She must have drifted off and dreamed of cowboy hands and Russell’s potent voice. Dreams just like these had been all-too-frequent companions in the past several years. Except she hadn’t been asleep this time, not really. Somehow, she knew the werewolf really had been calling to her. With a little shiver, she sighed and glanced around. Talaitha hated the tent. Certain Roma customs felt a lot like exile, and considering how much she wished herself free of this life, she was not eager to undergo her least favorite tradition of all. Touching the unnatural had rendered her marime, or unclean, and as such she could not interact with the rest of the clan until she had been ritually cleansed. Contact with a werewolf would be good for several days’ worth of separation. The fact that her father, who was rarely found to be unclean, also had to separate himself offered little comfort as she sat on a cot in the large women’s tent. A neglected book lay open on her lap, its pages lit

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by a lantern at her side. None of the other women were in their time, so she was alone with her thoughts. They were a constant enough companion that reading had become near impossible, even if the strains of violin music weren’t distraction enough. Gold-tinged eyes and breathtakingly perfect male bodies flashed through her mind time and again. Memories of the rich timbre of Russell’s voice murmuring her name. Talaitha. The word sounded like magic on his lips, a spell on her that could never be broken. Outside, the sounds of laughter filtered through the camp. Her cheeks burned as she imagined the clan sitting around the campfire, mocking her. Being the subject of disapproving looks and whispers was nothing new, nor was banishment to the tent. Women used the tent monthly for their moon time and as necessary, unless the state of their defilement necessitated removal from each other as well. Talaitha had spent the most time here when her father sent her to the tent in disgrace after her marriage. She picked up her book and tried to focus on the page. Words swam through her mind without meaning as she reread the same sentence three times. She had found the book at a rest stop and squirreled it away to practice her skills. Wouldn’t her father be shocked to see her reading for enjoyment? Reading hadn’t been high priority in her clan-based education. Between performances and domestic duties and setting up and breaking down camps, there had been little time for formal lessons. But during her lengthy postwedding seclusion in the tent, she had taught herself to read and practiced writing. She’d also worked on her plan to leave this provincial, unsatisfying life. Once she could read and write proficiently, she could make her own way. She wouldn’t have to depend on anyone but herself. With a deep sigh, she concentrated on the next sentence. When the words finally sank in, a hot flush crept over her cheeks. Her prized find was a romance novel, an ironic reminder of all the ways she was an utter failure as a woman. Nevertheless, as the heroine in her book

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slipped off her blouse to reveal her breasts to the hero, Talaitha flashed on an image of herself in that position. She imagined standing before Russell, her hair long and flowing instead of captured in the braid she typically wore. Russell’s piercing eyes radiated golden heat while she bared herself boldly in a wanton sexuality she could hardly fathom. There was something terribly, drastically wrong with her. This was a fact she’d known for quite some time, one her father and the clan—the entire clan, before the split—had been all too happy to discuss at length. But until now, Talaitha had not taken their words as seriously as they did. Deep down, she knew there was a flicker of womanhood burning somewhere. Now, however, she knew something dark and twisted about herself. The only man she wanted wasn’t a man at all. I saw the way you looked at her. Her father had guessed that Russell was attracted to her. Did he also suspect that his worse-than-spinster daughter felt that same pull? That somehow, despite what he was, she couldn’t quite snip the inexplicable thread of connection trying to tether her to a man she’d never met? Surely her father hadn’t sensed the truth, or he’d have had much more to say to her than reciting the rules of marime. Sounds approached the tent, and Talaitha pulled herself from her thoughts to listen. There were shuffling and murmurs, followed by a cry of pain. She stiffened and then shoved her book beneath the cot blanket just as several of the women pushed their way through the tent flap. They were escorting Meriya, a young bride who was holding her swollen belly and grimacing in a way Talaitha had seen before. She was in labor, fairly well along from the looks of things. No one seemed to notice Talaitha at first as they bustled around to get the birthing mother situated. Then, Meriya caught Talaitha’s surprised gaze. The woman’s dark eyes went wide and averted immediately as she started shouting excitedly in broken Romani.

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“Amran,” she kept saying, shaking her head and trying to leave the tent. “Choxani amran.” The others finally caught on and twisted around to see Talaitha, who was now standing beside her cot. Everyone froze, and she knew why Meriya was in such a panic. To give birth in front of an unclean woman, the “cursed witch,” as Meriya called her, would be unthinkable. Talaitha had held hands quite literally with darkness. Her presence could bring a blight upon both Meriya and the baby. Being stared at by eyes that refused to meet hers was an awkward, yet familiar sensation. Without a word, for the women would not speak to her directly anyway, Talaitha picked up her lantern and bedroll. Careful to keep the book hidden inside, she avoided their terrified expressions and hurried from the tent. Tears threatened for the third time that day while she carried her blanket with her to nowhere, wondering what to do next. Mother and child would take up residence in the tent for a while, both considered unclean from the birthing process. There was a spare tent for solitary use, but as they were still setting up camp and it was rarely needed, it certainly would not have been brought out yet. Or had it? News of her ordeal had no doubt spread through the entire group by now. Perhaps her father would have ordered the tent set up for her before remanding himself to the larger, more comfortable men’s marime tent. His offense was not considered as grave as hers, as he had kept the wolves at arm’s length and not touched them directly. He had simply touched her, made unclean secondhand. Of course, the fact that he’d touched her with a threat on her life was another matter, a dire and serious offense between Romani that would no doubt be judged by the kris had he had not been Zakono, clan leader. His very name meant “the law” in Romani, and he had been so in their clan since before Talaitha was born. Twilight rested heavily on the campsite, moonlight on its heels as she circled the perimeter farthest from the RVs, pop-up trailers, and vans that the majority of the clan lived in. This would be the most

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likely spot for the solitary tent, removed from sleeping and eating quarters. Sure enough, she saw the tent pitched and waiting a short ways off. She headed for it, but paused with a frown when she saw a soft glow of light emanating from within the dark nylon tent fabric. She crept forward in silence and listened, catching the sound of agonized moaning and a male voice. “Rest easy, Vanje.” It was her father speaking. “These herbs intensify the pain, I’m afraid, but are necessary to burn the evil from your wounds.” She blinked. Poor Vanje. She’d forgotten all about him in the wake of her own problems. He’d not only been wounded, but declared unclean in the process. Obviously he had not been bitten, or her father would have put him down. He would never allow one of his own to suffer the fate of becoming a shifter. Still, his contact with the werewolf had been the greatest of the three of them, meaning Vanje could not share the men’s tent with others, nor be tended by the healers. They would become marime, too, and unavailable should any others fall ill. Instead, her father tended him personally. Always the shining knight to come to the aid of any of his people. Except for her, of course. A rumble went through her stomach as she turned away from the tent. Even if there had been room in the tent for a third werewolfdefiled Rom, a woman could not share it with them. Nor could she return to the small RV she and her father traveled in—she would defile it. There was nowhere for her to go. She would serve her time of cleansing beneath the stars, out in the open but safely within the perimeter spell guarding the camp. Safe, even, from any other wolves prowling on this full moon night, seeking lost pack mates. I never realized my mate was a Gypsy. Although it was the last place she should want to venture, she found herself drawn to an odd feeling of security lying just ahead. That sense of safety called to her, ironically from the most dangerous spot in camp. She headed toward it until they were almost within her

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eyesight, creeping quietly behind bushes until she was close enough to spy on the two caged werewolves without them seeing her. It was with no small surprise that she saw both wolves had shifted back into human form. While her father’s spell had been cast some hours ago, the full moon was about to breach the heavens. The change back indicated both of them had developed control over their other natures. The men sat facing her with their backs against the cage bars. They were still naked, of course, and wrong though it was, she took advantage of her hiding place to fully explore what that meant. Drew’s head rested against the back of the cage, his cleft chin tilted up slightly as he watched the darkening evening sky. His neck was long and lean, but nothing on that man could be called slender. Every place her gaze landed offered another feast of carved, muscled flesh that was smooth and quite bronzed for a pale, blond gadje. Although, judging from his black patch of pubic hair, he was no natural blond. She’d never heard of a man coloring his hair before. Although his thick cock invited her stare, she lifted her gaze to the almost-white locks he wore in a short, spiky style. The roots were dark, too. Romani women did not color their hair, let alone the men, and she wondered how he got it that way—and why he would bother with such a curious thing. She couldn’t say the results were unattractive, though. That platinum hair really brought out the ice-blue of his eyes, especially when the light of day had still shone on them. Now, the yellow flecks were what stood out most as he lowered his head and turned to the man beside him. Her eyes followed, and her stomach jumped at the sight of Russell reclining with one leg bent and an arm resting lazily over his knee. He was leaner and longer than Drew, but his muscles were no less appealing beneath the chest and body hair that she was more used to glimpsing on Gypsy men. The way his wavy brown hair swept carelessly across one brow, almost concealing one glittering eye, gave him an appeal she found difficult to turn away from. Still, her stare

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trailed along the hard lines of his chest, down past his abdomen to the girth on unabashed display as he sat with his knee bent. The longer she stared at his cock, the harder her heart pounded. Then she slid her gaze to Drew’s member and began comparing the two. She shouldn’t be here at all, considering Russell was the reason for her current status. And hiding in a bush, debating which of two men had the longer cock, well, she was acting like nothing less than a shameless tramp. Worse than that, she didn’t seem to care. Her stomach warmed while she took in Russell’s thicker cock, then Drew’s, which seemed as long and sleek as he was. Their conversation brought her attention upward to Drew’s angular, narrow face. “I can’t believe you got us stuck here,” he said. “All because you wanted to chase a pretty skirt.” “At least I found my mate,” Russell said, rubbing his palm over his bent knee. “What about you?” Drew cocked his head. “If you’ve found your mate, then I reckon I’ve found mine, too. And I think you know that.” Talaitha frowned. What was he talking about? The way Drew was staring at Russell twisted her stomach as tight as her braid, but Russell didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. In fact, his eyes began glittering more brightly, too. Or perhaps it was just because the sky was darkening so rapidly now. The moon would rise in minutes. “I’m not an idiot, contrary to earlier comment,” Russell said in a slow drawl. “I knew exactly why you stayed put when I entered this cage.” “Then I suppose the question now is, which one of us enters whom?” The men fell silent, but a great deal was happening between them as they regarded each other with hypnotic stares. Talaitha felt the air thicken until she could barely catch her breath. Her attention shifted downward when a flicker of moment caught the corner of her eye, and she sucked in a breath. Their cocks were twitching in their laps, growing longer and stiffer by the moment. When she glanced up

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again, Russell’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips while his eyes dipped to Drew’s mouth. It was obvious he wanted to kiss him. Emotions began flip-flopping in her chest at the thought. She had heard in the vaguest of whispers that werewolf males were known to mate with each other, but such things were not openly discussed in Romani circles. Her father would probably sooner speak of the dead than of male perversions. She had to admit, part of her had been secretly flattered at Russell’s recognition that she was mate potential. Russell showing similar interest in Drew should put her off, if not outright disgust her. So why was her stomach heating, and why were her panties growing damp? Why was she silently hoping Drew would claim Russell’s waiting lips? She licked her own lips reflexively at the thought and then caught her breath when Drew slid a hand between his legs to stroke a palm over the length of his erect cock. “Do I sense this is goin’ to become a challenge?” Drew asked. “Or are you smart enough to concede I’m the bigger man?” Russell’s gaze dropped to watch the other man rub himself. “I reckon you mean to say you’re the better man. Definitely not bigger.” “Big enough to make you scream.” His words grew ragged as his hand motions became more vigorous. “So what’s it gonna be, Russ?” Russell rose with a lazy smile, standing with his hands on his slim hips and his cock jutting out by Drew’s face. “If you want me, you’re gonna have to take me.” He bent over to Drew’s lips. “Before I take you.” Talaitha’s wish came true when Drew grabbed Russell’s face and kissed him, hard and deep with a male grunt that sent a shiver through her. Russell straightened and shoved Drew sideways, up against the adjacent bars. Far from angry, however, Russell’s lips were curved in a sexy smile that sent her pulse racing. He was enjoying this. “The moon’s comin’,” he said in a rough tenor. “Feel it?” Drew nodded and got to his feet. “You’ll be comin’ soon yourself once my cock is deep in your ass.”

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“We’ll see about that.” The two men circled one another with tight smiles, both bent slightly as the cage wasn’t quite tall enough to allow them to stand fully upright. “You know what we have to do,” Russell said. “So do we let on that we know our woman is watchin’ now, or later?” Talaitha’s eyes widened at the smile breaking out over both their faces. “I reckon if we tell her now,” Russell said, “she’ll have a better view than she’s got hidin’ behind the bushes.” “Good point.” Drew spun around and stared directly where she was standing. “How about it, darlin’? Ready to come out and face the music?” She stiffened, listening to her heart thunder in her ears while she debated what to do. Should she give herself up? Or sneak off and let them feel stupid for talking to thin air? “There’s no point pretendin’ you ain’t there,” Russell added, moving to the front of the cage. “We do have enhanced senses, you know. Heard you the moment you came up. Plus your scent is quite distinct.” “And intoxicatin’,” Drew added. “That she is,” Russell said. “Even if she is trouble with a capital Gypsy.” That did it. She put down the blanket and lantern before stomping out from the bushes, hands on her hips. “That comment brought her runnin’,” Drew said with a sarcastic grin. “Just what is your problem with Romani, anyway?” she asked, glaring at Russell. With his head still ducked down, he folded his arms. “Besides them tellin’ me lies so they could lure me into a trap, you mean?”

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She ignored the pang of guilt. “You had a problem with me being Romani before then, when we were out in the woods.” He shook his head. “You imagined that, darlin’. I didn’t have a problem with you then.” He slid down onto his knees and grabbed the bars, bringing his intense gaze closer to hers. “But now I’d say you’ve got me in a right big problem.” She swallowed. “No use trying to use that come-hither tone on me. I can’t let you out of there.” “That ain’t the problem I’m talkin’ about.” She stifled a gasp when his hand slipped between his legs to handle the cock she could barely keep her eyes off of. “You got us all worked up in quite a state, what with you starin’ at us from the bushes and smellin’ the way you do. And now you’re on the wrong side of these bars for my preference.” He tapped them with his free hand while the other glided back and forth over his stiff erection. Somehow she managed to find a rather hoarse version of her voice. “Not for mine,” she said. “I like you caged up in there just fine. And I wasn’t staring.” “Like hell. Do you have any idea how hot and free your scent flows when you’re aroused? Maybe you’re waitin’ for your dreams to come true. You have had the dreams about me, haven’t you? ” Her eyes widened. “How would you know what I dream?” “Mates dream of each other, though some remember dreams more clearly than others. I saw it in your eyes out in those woods. You recognized me.” She shrugged. “I recognized that you were a werewolf.” His knowing smile did all sorts of wild things to her insides. “I sure as hell have had some unbelievable dreams about you. If only you’d let me out so I could show you.” “Why do you have us shut up in here, anyway?” Drew asked. “To force our shifts whenever you want, as some sick entertainment?” He joined Russell at the front of the bars. “I guarantee you, Tal, that if you let us go, we can find much better ways to entertain you.”

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She ignored the flip-flop in her stomach. “It’s not for our personal amusement. It’s for the entertainment of gadjes who will pay good money to see it.” Russell’s smile vanished, and his hand fell away from his cock to grab the bars. “You can’t possibly be thinkin’ of showin’ other people what we are.” “You’ll be a prime attraction,” she said, watching both their eyes flare in wilder yellow tones. “We should make enough with you two in our lineup to see us through winter.” Russell stared at her. “So, my sexy, innocent-lookin’ mate turns out to be a hard-drivin’ business opportunist. Even at the expense of men’s lives.” She folded her arms over her front, wishing she’d brought the blanket to throw across her shoulders. “Except you’re not really men. You’re animals.” Drew’s eyes narrowed. “Let us out and I’ll show you just how much of an animal I can be.” Russell’s hand shot out across Drew’s chest, pushing him back. “Easy, cowboy. That ain’t exactly gonna convince her to open this cage.” Drew glared at Russell, then at her. She shook her head. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t open the cage. I don’t have the key.” She lifted her chin. “Which doesn’t mean I want to release you, before you get the wrong idea.” Drew let out a disgusted growl and turned his back, leaning on the cage so his ass was right at her eye level. “You don’t want to let us go because you like havin’ us around,” Russell said, the teasing back in his voice. “You’re afraid we’d take off and you’d never see us again.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped. “You can’t reveal our secret to the public,” Drew said, whipping around again. “Surely you can see how bad that would be for our kind?”

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She cocked her head. “And exactly why should I have a care for your kind? Considering what your kind have done to mine.” Gold began spreading over the blue in his irises. “So this is some bullshit revenge that has nothin’ to do with us? You best hope you don’t find out what I can do to your kind if you keep me caged.” Russell rose and shoved Drew back. “Shut the fuck up. Seems the full moon makes your mouth run in all sorts of bad directions, don’t it? Looks like we need to settle some matters between us before we can deal with this.” Drew’s jaw tightened. “Stop orderin’ me around like you’re my alpha. I’m in charge of my fate.” “Yeah, and look where that got you.” “Right alongside you, who marched in here willingly ’cuz you’re dyin’ to shove that fat dick in her tight pussy.” She felt her stomach somersault at Drew’s crude words. “Seems like you really want to be the wolf in charge.” Russell’s mocking tone was back. “Good. That oughta make this interestin’.” The men’s chatter suddenly ceased, and though they began circling each other again as men, both dropped into wolf form in almost perfect time. The growls and raised hackles of fur stunned Talaitha, and she jerked back farther from the cage. She lifted her eyes to see the full moon climbing overhead, as if directing the display of animal aggression. Even in the dim light of the rising moon, it was a simple matter to tell the wolves apart by Russell’s reddish tone and Drew’s creamy, almost-white fur. Drew snapped powerful jaws very near Russell’s muzzle, but Russell jumped back. He lunged for Drew’s throat, but the other wolf made a tight circle and bit into Russell’s flank. Talaitha literally felt a jolt of sympathy pain when Russell yelped, and she considered grabbing her blanket and fleeing. Yet she couldn’t move another step, glued to the hard-packed dirt while the wolves danced and snapped, lunged and retreated. She was bizarrely riveted, awaiting fate’s decision on which wolf would be leader.

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Long, white fangs dripped with saliva and menace, and she shivered as she tried not to imagine what those teeth would feel like buried in her throat. Russell swung his powerful body around parallel with Drew’s, biting down on a pale ear while he tried to climb on the other wolf’s back. With a vicious snarl, Drew whipped around, blood marring his blond fur as he took hold of Russell’s muzzle and tried to force it down near the cage floor. Russell’s head shook back and forth as he strained to keep upright, though Drew pushed him back until his tail was sticking through the rear bars. Talaitha realized she had stopped breathing, and her fists were clenched at her sides while she watched Drew maneuver Russell literally into a corner. With one loud growl and a toss of his head, Russell freed himself from Drew’s jaws, but the other wolf mounted his back and sank his jaws into the raised fur around Russell’s neck. Russell gave a loud yelp, and Drew reared back, howling at the moon. He was still paying homage to the moon’s power when he shifted, his fur disappearing into sleek, tanned flesh, and the keening sound turning from a wolf howl to a human bellow of triumph. He was still hunched over Russell’s back as he grabbed hanks of fur around the wolf’s neck. “You’re defeated,” he growled into Russell’s ear. “Shift back.” The Russell wolf refused to still beneath Drew, instead trying to spring out from under his grip. But Drew held him fast. “Change back,” he commanded, but Russell didn’t respond. “The full moon don’t matter. You shifted earlier, right out from under a Gypsy spell. You can do it again now. And you will.” Three more tries to escape Drew’s straining muscles failed. Finally, the wolf’s body relaxed, then began to quiver. The shift was slow and exaggerated, but Russell’s fur retracted as he stretched longer. At last, he was naked and panting on all fours, with Drew still mounted on his back. “That’s right,” Drew said with a tight smile as he yanked Russell’s hair back to expose his throat. “I’m your alpha now.”

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Drew’s eyes, which still blazed hot and yellow like Russell’s, lifted to find Talaitha’s. “And you are mine.” Goose bumps erupted over her flesh while Drew’s determined face unlocked, sliding into an unnatural length. As she watched in horror, his jaw seemed to detach and grow until needle-like fangs protruded. Without warning, he dropped his head to sink those teeth into Russell’s shoulder. He gave a loud, anguished-sounding yell. “No!” Talaitha shouted, sinking to the ground and covering her eyes. Her heart stuttered and pounded as she pictured the man she’d dreamed of for nearly a decade lying dead on the cage floor. It was all her fault. She never should have led him into this trap. Russell’s shouts turned to a series of guttural moans, and Drew’s growls joined in greedily. Her stomach lurched at his death throes. Keeping her eyes squeezed shut failed to block her tears or mental imagery of the man she was destined to love. She finally slapped her hands over her ears, which did little to muffle the noise. “Stop it!” she called out, her voice shaking with sobs. “Stop hurting him, Drew. Please.” The men’s noises stopped instantly. “Talaitha?” Drew’s voice. She shook her head, refusing to open her eyes. “Tal, honey, it’s okay. I’m okay.” The voice was loving, tender, and convincingly calm. And more importantly, it was Russell’s. She risked a peek, her cramped, quaking shoulders relaxing when she saw him. He was still kneeling, staring at her with obvious concern. Silver rays of moon spotlighted drops of blood trailing down his chest, but he didn’t appear to be in any pain. On the contrary, as she took in their positions and the way Drew had his hips pressed to Russell’s buttocks while he gripped his hips, it looked as though they were doing something altogether different. “I thought he was trying to kill you,” she said in a shaky whisper. Russell shook his head. “No, darlin’. We just bonded as pack mates, is all.”

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“Yeah, just a wolf thing,” Drew added. “Didn’t mean to scare you none.” His smug grin, however, made her wonder. She heaved a sigh, shaking with more than just the chill of mountain air. Russell raised one arm and reached it through the bars. “Hey. Come here.” Talaitha sniffed back tears and shook her head. “Please. You’ll see that everythin’s all right.” “Forget it.” She stood and brushed dirt and leaves from her skirt, but made no move toward him. “I’m not getting near you.” “Just take my hand,” Russell said, stretching until his shoulder was pressed to the bars. “I need to feel you.” What was it about the smooth, rich lilt of his voice? It slid through her toughest attempt at resistance, warming her insides like the homemade wine served at her wedding. It intoxicated her just as fast, too, until her head felt too light and fuzzy to think properly. “Stop that,” she said. Russell blinked. “Stop what?” “Stop using your magic on me. I can feel the pull of it. Put your hand down.” His arm lowered, but the smile he flashed at her cast a stronger spell than his outstretched fingers. “I’m no magician, sweetheart. The only magic I’ve got in me is the magic I don’t want.” She glanced at him, her nerves twisting in complicated spirals when she met his eyes. “Well, you’re doing something to try and compel me to come to you. Don’t try to deny it. I’ve grown up around magic my entire life.” “That’s no spell at work. It’s just fate pullin’ you into my arms. You know that’s where you belong.” “No.” She clutched her elbows tight. “You’re just trying to get me within reach so you can threaten me, use me as leverage for getting out of here.”

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“Use you as leverage?” Drew asked in a mock-surprised tone. “Now, that sounds like a right dirty, low-down trick. Like somethin’ a naughty Gypsy might pull on her mate.” She flashed him a look, and Russell grunted. “But her mate might forgive her,” he said, “if she let him hold her hand while he and his alpha finish their business.” Drew gave her a lopsided, but no less dangerous, grin. “What do you say, beauty? Make up for lockin’ us in here by bringin’ your erotic scent closer. Let Russell stroke that silken skin while I make him come.” Her heart skipped two beats at the fire in his eyes, but she curled her lip. “I would never be part of that. I won’t even watch you do such a sordid thing.” “Oh, you’ll watch.” Drew let the hand closest to her wander over the curve of Russell’s ass, and something began to hum low in her pelvis. “You won’t be able to help yourself. You’ll stare while your mate gets claimed by his alpha—and wish to God you were on the other side of these bars.” His hips pulled slowly away from Russell, and both men’s eyes fluttered. From where she was standing she couldn’t see Drew’s cock, but she knew it was rigid, like the one that was red and throbbing beneath Russell. He eased out of Russell’s hole, and a quick thrust shoved his hips back against Russell’s ass. His motions were hard enough for her to see Russell’s balls bouncing beneath him. Russell’s unrelenting gaze finally released her as Drew’s motions appeared to sweep him off to somewhere distant. Somewhere Talaitha could not go. Drew was right about one thing. Despite the inner voice whispering for her to run away, she couldn’t stop watching. She was mesmerized by the sleek, glistening lines of their male bodies as they rocked in a passion she’d never before witnessed. Drew’s seduction and claiming of Russell thoroughly separated her from them while at

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the same time drawing her in. She couldn’t decide whether she felt shut out of their bond, or if she was an inexplicable part of it. Drew’s thrusts grew harder and more desperate as his eyes squeezed shut and sweat trickled down his neck. He was beautiful. There was no doubt about that. So was Russell, his hair hanging long over the face contorted in what might have been misconstrued as pain if she didn’t know better. “I ache for her,” Russell said in a gruff, throaty tone, challenging her opinion about his discomfort. Drew shot her a smoldering glance. “Then buck this hot ass against me harder, and I’ll help you do somethin’ about it when I’m finished.” Talaitha’s fingers dug into her palms as Russell began rocking back on his hands, slapping his rear against Drew’s hips. Drew threw his head back with a groan that pebbled gooseflesh on her arms. With one last thrust, he rammed his cock deep and let out a feral growl. His body shook visibly as he released himself inside Russell, who moaned in response with his eyes squeezed tight. Her feet finally began to shuffle forward, drawn to the call of their animal passion. An unmistakable metallic click stopped her short. “How convenient of you to cage them up for me,” said a voice from behind her. She spun around with a gasp to see a redheaded gadje woman. She wore tight green pants and a quilted nylon jacket, but the silver glint of a gun in her hand had most of Talaitha’s attention. “All that’s missing is a pretty red bow on top.” “Who are you?” Talaitha asked. The gun wavered to gesture toward the cage. “I’m the one who’s about to take these creatures off your hands.” “I don’t understand.” Talaitha turned enough to see the men had uncoupled and were clutching the front of the cage, staring at the woman—and her lethal-looking pistol—with fiercely glowing eyes.

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“What’s not to understand?” The woman stepped forward, and Talaitha instinctively backed away, closer to the cage. “You have dangerous animals. I’m a dangerous animal hunter. End of story.” Talaitha strove to keep her voice neutral. “As you can plainly see, these men are well under control. I don’t need you to take them off my hands.” The woman’s smile failed to light her narrow face with the slightest touch of humor. “What I saw looked pretty out of control. I will be taking them, nonetheless.” Talaitha lifted her chin. “You can’t have them. They’re mine.” The woman cocked her head. “Really? I don’t see proof of that.” Without warning, she shot forward and tugged at the neck of Talaitha’s blouse with her free hand. “Where is the mark?” Talaitha started to call out to alert the clan, but the gun swiveling to her chest changed her mind. “Don’t get any ideas about yelling for help,” the woman said. “This is a private matter.” “Leave her alone,” Drew spat. “She’s not the one you’re after.” The woman pulled away and strode closer to the men. “I don’t know you. But I do know him.” The gun jerked toward Russell, who stared her down dispassionately. “I see you tried to mark him. But claiming him for another pack doesn’t change who he is. He still owes me his blood.” Talaitha’s thoughts spun in all sorts of wild directions while she looked back and forth between the others. Surely there was something she could do to ward off looming disaster. “It changes everythin’,” Drew said. Then, “Friend of yours, Russ? Seems like this woman knows you.” Russell’s eyes narrowed. “She thinks she does. But she’s dead wrong about me.” The woman snorted, though her eyes remained cold. “Sure I am.” “And who the hell is she?” Drew persisted.

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“I’m sure you know there are those out there who like to hunt our kind,” Russell said. “She’s just a particularly annoyin’ thorn in that side.” A werewolf hunter. Talaitha eyed the woman, who was still glaring at Russell. “Wow,” the redhead said, “funny how you paint that to make me sound like the bad guy. Are you going to pretend you’re not one of Blaise’s hounds?” Drew frowned. “Who the hell is Blaise?” The woman’s eyes widened. “You must be new or incredibly stupid to be a werewolf around here and not have heard of him.” Drew folded his arms. “Let’s go on the assumption I’m new around here. What’s the deal with this Blaise?” Her eyes glittered in a manner not entirely unlike the weres. “The deal is that Blaise and his bastards are a pack of murdering degenerates that the world would be better off without. Something I plan to see to personally.” “We were a pack, you mean,” Russell said. “Blaise is dead, and the rest of us were separated by our new alpha.” “Which does not exonerate you from your crimes,” she spat. “And just what are my crimes, exactly? What have I done to you? Do you even know my name?” Her eye twitched. “I don’t have to get personal with you to know you’re a vicious animal who needs putting down. Regardless of what that idiot alpha thought when he took out Blaise, letting the rest of you go on your merry way doesn’t change a damn thing. Not for me.” “Who are you?” Drew asked. “Why do you have a vendetta against Blaise’s old pack?” The gun barrel shifted to point square between his eyes. “None of your business, blondie. Suffice it to say I’m the arm of justice, and that you couldn’t have picked a worse wolf at a worse time to make a pack bond with.”

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“That might not be far from the truth,” Russell said, his eyes softening. “But if you know what Blaise was capable of, you must also know many of us were not with him by choice. Not all of us were responsible for the harm he caused.” “Shut up,” she said. “You were all guilty of doing his bidding, regardless. Anyone who was part of that bloodline is a disease.” Now the gun swiveled back. “And silver is the cure.” Part of Talaitha wondered whether she dared make a grab for that pistol while the other part wondered why she would even consider trying to save them. They were werewolves. It would be suicide, for sure. She had never picked up a gun in her life, whereas the woman seemed quite steady and comfortable with the weapon. If Talaitha tried to disarm her, she’d likely earn a bullet for her efforts. Yelling for help would gain her little more. She only had one weapon she could possibly use. Drew started to say something, but the woman cut him off. “Enough! No more chitchat to prolong the inevitable. Time to say good-bye.” “So, you’ll shoot unarmed men locked in a cage?” Russell asked, moving his naked form in front of Drew. “Neither of us hurt you. Drew doesn’t even know who Blaise was. He’s innocent.” The woman paused, but the smile that erupted failed to reassure Talaitha that his attempt at reason had succeeded. “He’s a werewolf.” She stalked forward, and Talaitha reacted without thinking. She put herself between the gun and cage, uttering Romani under her breath. “Stay out of this,” the woman said. “I have no quarrel with you.” Talaitha kept up her magic until she felt the answering breeze stir around her. “I said, move the hell out of my way!” The woman shoved her, and Talaitha stumbled back and nearly lost her feet. “Don’t touch her!” Russell shouted. “She ain’t a part of this.”

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“I am now,” Talaitha said. “Djukiv, farmechiv gadje a gazhikani baxt!” The woman turned to her just as Talaitha finished the spell by spitting into the dirt near the redhead’s feet. The gesture went ignored as the gun neared the cage. Talaitha held her breath. Russell put himself more fully in front of Drew. “Fine. Shoot me. But leave Drew and Talaitha alone.” “Fair enough,” the redhead replied. Talaitha’s heart nearly stopped at the roar of the gun going off. She shut her eyes, hands flying to her ears as deafening gunshots exploded in her head. When she risked opening her eyes, it was to the muffled sound of the woman muttering a string of expletives—and the men still standing, wide-eyed in obvious shock. “Damn cage,” the redhead said, and she closed distance and stuck the barrel close enough to range through the bars without either of the men being able to grab it. “Duck this, wolf.” The gun went off again, and the men—along with Talaitha— jerked. The bullet, however, missed its target yet again. “What the fuck?” she said, staring down at her gun barrel. She raised it between Russell’s eyes again and fired, but this time the weapon clicked impotently. The gun was empty. The sound of shouting pricked Talaitha’s ears, and she interrupted the woman’s cussing fit. “My entire clan is no doubt on the way to investigate that gunfire. If you plan to leave here alive, I suggest you do it now.” The woman was still gaping at her weapon in shock, but then she blinked and seemed to take in Talaitha’s words. With one last venomous glare at the men in the cage, she turned and sprinted for the woods. “You know,” Drew said, in a tone that was far too casual for that of a man who’d just been shot at numerous times, “I came to Shay Falls to try and escape my talent for findin’ drama. Instead I run smack into it headfirst.”

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“I don’t understand,” Russell said, much less smoothly. “Ain’t no one is that bad a shot. How could she possibly have missed every time?” Talaitha was still trying to slow down her galloping pulse when Drew spoke up. “It was Tal. You cursed her, didn’t you?” She glanced at him. “What makes you think that?” “I’ve been around enough Gypsy stuff to get the gist. Spittin’ in the dirt ain’t just a bad habit for your kind, is it?” Ignoring Russell’s careful scrutiny, she shrugged. “I might have worked some emergency magic. She won’t be able to harm your kind with any weapon she possesses.” He arched a brow at her. “Why would you do that if you hate werewolves?” The sound of louder shouts and approaching footsteps forestalled further conversation. “Shift into wolves,” she hissed. “Now.” She backed away from the cage as a group of clansmen burst into the clearing. Seeing her standing there brought them up short, and none would speak to her directly. She turned her back and moved off so none would face the risk of touching or looking her in the eye. As she faced the cage, she saw that Russell and Drew had done as she’d asked and shifted. She spoke over her shoulder to none in particular to avoid spreading her impurity. “A woman came and tried to shoot the wolves we captured for our show. I stopped her, and she ran off.” She pointed to the woods. “That way.” Muttering about protective spells that didn’t ward off gadje troublemakers followed, but she could also make out whispers of those wondering why Talaitha was again near the wolves when they had caused her defilement in the first place. As the group fanned out to begin checking the surrounding area, she pondered that question herself. She turned and headed back to the bushes where she’d dropped her blanket while those not involved in searching for the self-

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proclaimed huntress wandered back to their trailers or perhaps the campfire. “Where are you goin’?” Russell asked, back in human form now. “I can’t be near you. I’m supposed to be in a time of cleansing. I have to find somewhere to perform the rituals and wait out my separation.” “You can’t stay out here alone,” Drew said. “What if that crazy bitch comes back?” “We ain’t the only two werewolves in these woods, either,” Russell added. “Stay here so we can protect you.” She laughed as she spun around. “Protect me? I just had to use a curse—something I’ve never dreamed of risking—to protect you from a gadje woman. Further defiling myself in the process, I might add. Considering you’re in a cage and unarmed, how would you protect me if something else did come along?” He glowered at her, but his lips pressed together in a tight, silent line. “Thought so.” With that, she walked away. Once she was safely away from their penetrating, golden stares, she wrapped the blanket around herself and gave in to the violent shivers that made it difficult to grasp the flannel edges. The chill in the air was developing a fiercer bite, but the main reason she was shaking was the aftermath of having used such a dark, powerful spell. Such magic could bear repercussions, but what else could she do? Stand by and watch two naked, unarmed men get gunned down in a cage? It was largely by her own doing that they were in there—one of them, at least. Why was the woman so intent on Russell’s destruction? Was it true that he hadn’t deserved it? A sound pierced the night, a keening howl that stood her hair on end. Other wolves roamed these woods, likely with other dangers awaiting her. Not the least of which was the fact that she was rapidly becoming a danger to herself.

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Her feet moved of their own accord until she was back in front of the cage. The men had shifted again into wolf form and were pacing restlessly. They paused at her approach, their majestic stares landing on her briefly. “Don’t either of you say a word,” she said to the wolves. “Or a bark, rather. And don’t get any ideas. I just figured maybe your scent will scare off some other animals, is all.” She lay down on the hard dirt, suddenly exhausted. The curse had taken an immediate toll on her energy reserves. Despite her exhaustion, even the normally welcome sounds of crickets and night breezes failed to lull her. The men respected her wish and left her alone with her thoughts, which carried her through several hours until she gave into a deep, though by no means peaceful, sleep.

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Chapter Three Dinner was left for Talaitha along the perimeter of the clearing just as breakfast and lunch had been, with one important difference. Dinner was accompanied by a message. She had been summoned at her father’s behest. Frowning, Talaitha took the plate of goulash and slid it through the gap in the cage bars designed to aid handlers in feeding. “Why aren’t you goin’ to eat that?” Russell asked as she quickly deposited the plate. She backed away as though one of them might make a grab for her, which she wasn’t entirely certain wouldn’t happen, and then returned to the spot to refold the blanket she’d sat on throughout parts of the day. “It’s ridiculous that they only fed you once today, like the other…” she trailed off and shot him a look. “You can say it,” Drew said. He sat with his back against the cage and one leg drawn up, much the way Russell had done the night before. He was lounging casually, as though being locked up was the most natural thing in the world. “They’re feedin’ us like the other animals.” “I didn’t mean it like that.” He cocked his head. “That’s exactly how you mean it. We are animals, after all. You said so yourself.” “That doesn’t mean you should be tossed a few scraps of food once a day. You need to eat.” “So do you.” “I’m not a grown man. I’m not even particularly tall. I can get by on far less.”

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The truth was, she didn’t have much of an appetite at present, and what little was left had been snuffed out by the note. Whatever her father’s reason for wanting to see her, it wasn’t likely to express paternal concern for her well-being. Still, it would be best to go and get it over with. “I was thinkin’ about what you said you did last night,” Russell said. “To the huntress. She really can’t hurt a werewolf?” She eyed him, but didn’t answer. “Not unless she figures out she’s cursed and finds a way to break it,” Drew said, leaning forward to take a whiff of her unwanted meal. “That’s highly unlikely,” Talaitha said. “Gadjes don’t understand our ways, and they don’t believe in magic.” She eyed Drew pointedly. “Most gadjes, anyway.” Russell grunted. “Why keep her from harmin’ weres if you hate them?” A flash of irritation shot through her. “It wasn’t like I had it planned out. I was in a hurry, and that’s what I came up with.” “Why help Drew and me at all, then?” “I’ll answer that if you tell me why she is hunting down your pack.” “I honestly don’t know. Blaise did a lot of things to a lot of people. I was grateful when someone finally sent him to hell, until the new alpha banished the rest of us in revenge.” Drew offered him the bowl of stew, but Russell shook his head. “What about you? What’s your answer?” She shrugged. “I honestly don’t know, either. I just kind of reacted. Maybe I’m going crazy.” “Whatever your reasons,” Drew said, “I just want to say thanks.” “You ain’t crazy,” Russell said. “You did it because you know you’re mine.” That brought her to her feet. “You’re wrong.”

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She shook the dust off the blanket she’d been sitting on and then folded it with obsessive care before marching off toward the camp proper. “Didn’t mean to scare you off,” Russell called after her. She paused. “Hardly. I’ll be back,” she added. Her father was waiting for her outside the tent, wearing his usual brown pants and vest. Zakono struck an even more charismatic figure against the backdrop of the fading light of early evening. “Besh,” he said, gesturing to a nearby stump. She obeyed and took a seat. “How is Vanje?” she asked, almost afraid of the answer. “He was not bitten.” Her father crouched in front of a small fire within a circle of stones. “The claw marks will heal much faster than he will forget, however. Although apparently, the same cannot be said for you.” She frowned. “I don’t understand.” His eyes narrowed, yet watched her carefully. “I am told you are spending your time of separation near the caged dogs.” She swallowed and plucked at her linen skirt. “It just seemed like the safest place out here.” “Safest? Chavi, you are sitting in the lion’s den.” “I’m not a child anymore, Papa. But I am a woman alone, separated from her clan. The women’s tent houses Meriya and her newborn, and you and Vanje have this one. The only place for me to spend the cleansing time is out in the open—in a place where unnatural creatures roam freely under a full moon.” “As do humans with guns,” he said, stoking the flames with a large stick. “I had word that you were involved in the gunfire last night.” “I used magic to repel the huntress, and she left peacefully.” More or less. One brow rose. “And yet you remain in harm’s way by continuing to lie with dogs.”

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His words curdled in her empty stomach. “I’m not lying with them. I just thought the clearing where they are caged will help ward off other animals out in the woods.” “And yet, every moment that you spend speaking to them and giving them your food, you are defiling yourself with their darkness.” Her mouth fell open. How did he know she’d been sharing her food? He smiled. “Don’t look so surprised. Even were there not whispers among the people, I know you. You not only have your mother’s eyes, but her spirit of kindness as well.” Talaitha blinked in shock. Romani people rarely spoke of their dead. It was considered bad luck. “Make no mistake,” he went on, “I do not count that as a virtue. Not for this. It comes as no shock that you would feel similar sympathy for those in peril. But that you would act on that sympathy toward shifter kind does. You should learn from her mistakes, not bring about your own lesson.” A familiar lump in her stomach rose to her throat at the thought of that terrible day five years ago. “I haven’t forgotten, Papa.” His jaw tightened, though a suspicious gloss shone in his eyes. “See that you don’t. Kindness to a werewolf will be met with violence. Mark my words, daughter. Stay clear of those animals, or you will suffer for it.” Her pulse hammered as she nodded. “I’ll be careful.” She rose and smoothed her skirt. “For now, the werewolves are caged and pose no threat, and I don’t know where else to go that would be safer.” “You cannot be cleansed for return to the clan as long as you remain near the ruvs. I have arranged another tent for you. It is raised at the rear of the housing compound.” As far away from Russell and Drew as possible, a fact that twisted in her stomach. She should be glad to avoid them and the constant exposure to their naked perfection, not to mention their obvious attraction to her and one another. Yet a hollow feeling thudded in her

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stomach. At least the wolves had offered some break in the solitude of her isolation. She nodded. “Thank you. I’ll just go retrieve my bedding.” “You cannot go back there,” her father said in a booming voice, rising from his crouch to set his hands on his hips. “Everything you need is already in the tent. Your three-day cleansing period starts now, as you did not have the wit to remove yourself from marime filth sooner.” “They need to be fed more than once a day,” she said, wincing inwardly at the sharp look in his eyes. “The creatures will make poor sport for our show if they are worn down from hunger.” He studied her for another moment. “Get to the tent and don’t trouble yourself about the rikonos. You have no cause to go near them again.” “And during the shows? Who will take Vanje’s place with the animals?” “More things you needn’t trouble yourself about. Your only concern with the show is to perform your regular setup duties and work in the palmistry tent. The rest will attend itself.” He talked over her when she tried to interject. “You are not to go near the special attraction tent. Stay away from there.” The tone in his voice, as well as his return to a crouch before the crackling, acrid fire, made his dismissal clear. “Yes, Papa.” She turned and headed in the direction of her new temporary shelter, stopping when he called after her. “You know that everything I do is in your best interest, Tal.” Refusing to face him, she nodded quietly and walked away, biting back the question of whether he counted putting a knife to her throat as having been in her best interest. She fingered the small scab that remained, knowing that the eventual scar would be left inside, rather than out. It would be invisible to all but the one who now had to question her own father’s love. The hollow feeling thudded harder as she swallowed back the nagging fear that the only love she would

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ever truly know lay buried with her mother. That sad thought clung to her skirts all the way to the new tent.

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Chapter Four A crisp, early evening and the din of a crowd greeted Talaitha as she stepped out from the palmistry tent, stretching muscles that seemed permanently cramped from her confinement in one tent or another for the past few days. Her four-hour block of reading palms had passed quickly enough thanks to a fairly steady stream of customers, but she was grateful when Nuri had come to relieve her. Now, the rest of the evening was her own to wander the show, join clan members around the homestead campfire, or return to the trailer—a much-anticipated luxury now that her time of separation was over. The laughter of a passing family caught her attention, beaming at her as they passed by. “A real Gypsy,” the children whispered in awe as bright, wide eyes stared at her. The strains of nearby fiddle music—tunes played for gadje shows, not the special music reserved solely for Romani—lifted her mood as well. From the time she’d been a child, she’d loved the atmosphere when their shows were in progress. Not as grand as a carnival or circus, perhaps, and even less so since the clan had divided. Still, Zakono’s Traveling Gypsy Faire drew visitors wherever their tents were pitched, and this part of her existence would definitely be missed when she finally left the clan to make her way in the normal world. Her gaze drifted along the red tents and striped tents, past the tiny ticket booth to the white gazebos covering vendor booths near the campground’s picnic area. Spirits were always high on opening night, and tonight seemed no exception. Smiling faces were everywhere, Rom and gadje alike, shining in the bright, sometimes harsh lights

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illuminating the small midway. The line in front of the ticket window was longer than Talaitha had seen for some time, too. Show opening had been postponed by necessity when her father had gone into confinement, but the delay hadn’t seemed to hurt business. If anything, word of mouth had drawn a surprising number of oddity seekers to the modest mountain town, a location many of the clan had scoffed at when her father had allowed her to select their next destination. She’d literally closed her eyes and brought her finger down on the map—straight into the life of the man who claimed to be her mate. She followed the heady aroma of incense over to the vendor tables, where a few of the women were selling handmade, and, in some cases, purchased “authentic” Gypsy wares. “It’s nice to see you around again,” came a female voice as Talaitha fingered a hand-tatted scarf. “You’ve been missed.” Talaitha smiled at Nadya. The woman sat behind the table, wearing a genuine smile and traditional Gypsy fare not dissimilar to Talaitha’s own. “You mean the others missed my contribution to meal duties,” Talaitha said. Laugh lines etched deeper into Nadya’s care-worn face, its plump roundness accentuated by the braids circling the top of her head. “I mean I missed your company, not just your chopping skills.” Talaitha’s grin widened. “Thank you. That’s nice to hear.” Talaitha. Russell’s voice sounded in her head. Her breath caught, and she shut her eyes for a moment to try and focus, shut out his call. It was a mistake. She felt hands sliding over her torso, multiple hands that were rough and callused from years spent tugging reins and repairing fences, or whatever it was exactly that cowboys did. Yet the touch on her skin was light and maddening, tightening her nipples into hard buds of need.

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The whisper this time came right against her ear, heightening the sensation. I know you can hear me. I feel you, Talaitha. You need me. I’m waitin’ for you, darlin’. “Talaitha? What’s wrong?” Talaitha’s eyes fluttered open to find Nadya staring at her with narrow eyes and obvious concern. Talaitha swallowed and shook her head. It wasn’t bad enough that the dreams had started all but tormenting her every night. Now her would-be mate’s call was coming while she was wide awake. “Nothing,” she said, forcing a smile. “Just a mild headache.” She lifted the hem of the pale blue scarf she’d been admiring. “One of yours?” The woman nodded. “I finished it on the trip here.” “The weave is beautiful.” “It’s the wrong shade to match your dark green skirt,” Nadya said, leaning forward in her folding chair to reach for another. “But this jade one would be perfect.” The green scarf she pointed out was indeed a nice match to Talaitha’s outfit as Nadya held the scarf against the dark, rough fabric over her hip. “Still,” Nadya went on, cocking her head to judge the results, “I must say the diklo you’re wearing now looks even better.” Talaitha’s hand went up to her head to feel the flat, silken scarf covering her hair. “Thank you.” Nadya’s dark eyes met hers, warmed by a gentle smile. She knew the scarf had once belonged to Talaitha’s mother. “I really don’t think I should wear a scarf, anyway,” Talaitha said. Typically, scarves or ribbons were worn by the married women. “But Papa says it makes me look more the part of a mysterious Gypsy for the shows.” Nadya laughed. “With your dark beauty, you could hardly look more Gypsy if you tried. Still, you were married, if not for long. So why not?” The woman toyed with the ends of the ribbon that she had

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wound through her braid, ending in long flutters of purple satin hanging past her collarbone. Talaitha fought off the automatic pang that shot through her at the mention of her marriage. “You may be right.” “I didn’t mean to upset you,” Nadya said, rising from her chair to smooth her skirt. Hers had a jewel-toned, vertical-stripe pattern that flattered her lean figure. Both of them wore off-the-shoulder peasant blouses that were practically stereotypical for Gypsy women, though more cleavage was evident on Nadya’s part than when Talaitha cast a glance downward. She frowned at the nipples she saw straining through the fabric, an almost-constant reminder now of her little werewolf cowboy fantasies. Talaitha tried to paste the smile back on her face. “I’m not upset.” “In any case, as fetching as your pretty hair may be, I think Zakono was right about that scarf giving you an air of mystery. Something to bring in more dollars from starry-eyed gadje men, right?” “I hardly think that was my father’s intention.” Even as the words came out, she wondered. Many of her assumptions about his motives had come under fire during her separation. “And Romani men, too, I think.” Nadya’s smile lit up with mischief. “Vanje seemed to have his eyes glued to you at every stop during the trip here. I hear he is faring better with his injuries.” Talaitha shrugged. “He’s always been sweet, but I highly doubt he was eyeing me.” “If you say so.” Nadya greeted a trio of women who walked up and began browsing. “Still, he’s a good man. Once he has fully recovered, you might be wise to notice the next time his eyes turn your way.” Nadya turned away to engage the browsers in sales banter, and Talaitha’s attention wandered to the setting around her. When the entire marriage debacle had unfolded, Nadya had been kinder than

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most. But even she didn’t understand what had gone wrong. How could she, when Talaitha didn’t herself? A familiar figure caught her eye, walking with purposeful strides that would have separated him from the casually strolling guests even if his Gypsy attire did not. Marko had been Vanje’s chosen replacement to handle the special attraction tent, and her neutral expression turned to a frown when she caught sight of the pole in his hand. The cattle prod was a foul device, one she hated to see come out on occasions when animal attractions were part of the Faire’s lineup. Knowing what—or rather, who—he would be using it on made the idea even less appealing now. Her feet were moving before she even realized she was following him. Glimpses of his bright red-and-yellow vest flashed in and out of the crowds as he headed for a tent near the outer edge of the Faire. The tent was black and small but had a decent line of people out front waiting to see the proclaimed “Shocking Man-Beast Transformation” attraction. Marko ducked around back to the rear entrance, still unaware of the tiny woman on his heels. “Marko!” she called after him, and he stopped just before heading under the tent flap. When he turned, his wide jaw tightened and bushy eyebrows furrowed. “Talaitha? You’re not supposed to be here.” She stopped and pointed at the pole in his hand. “What are you doing with that?” “This?” He tapped the cattle prod proudly with a large, square hand. “A little insurance. You know what’s inside this tent.” “I know that zapping people with that thing isn’t the best way to get their cooperation.” His smile showed crooked teeth. “The prod is quite effective. I have no intention of winding up like Vanje.” The smile faded. “In any case, these are not people we are dealing with. They are vile, dangerous monsters. Best you get that straight in your head.” He

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pointed back the way she’d come. “Now, turn around and get away from here before your father hears of it.” He waited, and she knew there was nothing she could say to change his mind. Vanje had been injured, after all. No doubt the wolves’ handlers would take any precautions they felt necessary. She turned and headed away, though slowed her pace immediately when Marko disappeared inside the tent. She slipped back near the canvas fabric to listen, wondering whether she dared risk a peek through the gap. Three days had come and gone since she’d last seen the two men caged inside. A long, restless three days, full of unsuccessful attempts to banish them from her waking mind, much less her suddenly overactive dream life. No, she shouldn’t risk it. Perhaps it was too late to close Pandora’s box altogether, but she should at least restrain herself from indulging her folly with another glimpse at temptation. She was about to leave when the sound of a man crying out in obvious agony reversed her decision. All but tripping over one of the tent spikes in her haste, she pushed aside the tent flap and ducked through the opening. Inside, the tent was large enough to easily house the cage, which was standing roughly in the middle, behind a small barricade. A series of collapsible stadium seats for the audience ringed the front half. Only one of three strategically positioned spotlights was currently lit, focused right where her attention was riveted. “What are you doing?” she shouted as she saw Marko pulling the prod back through the bars away from Drew, who had collapsed and was crying out and writhing on the cage floor. Marko whipped around and growled. “I thought I told you to leave. This is no place for you. The privacy drape isn’t even around the cage yet to hide the filth’s shame.” She’d been so alarmed by his treatment that she hadn’t even noticed that both men were as naked and magnificent as she’d just been imagining. “This is no place for you if you can’t treat animals

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humanely.” A jab of guilt accompanied her use of the term “animals” considering both figures in the cage were currently in human form, neither of whom appeared in the greatest shape. Drew was trembling as he tried to push himself up. Russell was lying on his back with his head turned away. A hot rush of anger and fear mingled in her chest. “These creatures are not your concern,” Marko spat back. “Leave.” Drew got to his knees, wheezing and gripping the cage bars. He was trying to speak, but his mouth moved oddly, making only “unhmuh” sounds. Drool slid from one corner of his mouth. “Look what you’ve done,” Talaitha said, marching toward the cage. “He can’t even talk. How long did you hold that stick against him?” “That isn’t from the cattle prod. I laced their dinner with monkshood.” Her mouth fell open. “You did what? Why?” “We didn’t capture them for their storytelling ability. The last thing we want is them talking to the audience. A nice case of numb tongue will see that they don’t.” She gaped at the man. “Poisoning them is barbaric.” Marko strode forward until he invaded her space, forcing her to lean back to see up into his menacing face. “Werewolves are barbaric. Or have you forgotten the proof that touched your own family?” “These two men aren’t the ones who did that.” She glared at him, wondering why she was defending them when Marko was absolutely right. “They are no different. And they are not men.” She was starting to argue further when Drew started banging on the bars and waving. She and Marko turned to see him gesture wildly toward Russell, and her eyes flew wide. He was still on his back, but now his muscles were twitching oddly—and when his head lolled toward her, there was foam around his mouth.

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Fear shot through her. “How much did you give him? Are you sure you used the right amount?” She darted for the cage, but Marko’s bear paw of a hand grabbed her arm. “Don’t go near them. It isn’t safe.” “He’s sick, can’t you see?” “Good. Then he won’t be as hard to tame for the show.” “Is a frothing, seizing man the grand attraction you plan on letting the tourists watch? Do something!” Marko stared dispassionately toward the cage. “It could be a trick.” Talaitha grunted in disgust as she watched Russell’s limps jerk spasmodically. Drew appeared obviously distressed and just as helpless as Talaitha felt while he stared down at Russell. It couldn’t be a trick, or he wouldn’t look so genuinely upset. “If you gave him too much monkshood, you have to counter it,” she said. “An overdose can cause him to choke to death or his heart to overload. We need riceweed, an amethyst stone and some hyssop. Now.” “And would you mourn the beast if he passed?” A mocking tone had replaced Marko’s annoyed growl. “Maybe you should show this much concern for your own people rather than murderous animals.” “If you’re not going to do something about it, I will.” She turned and tried to run for the tent flap, but again he grabbed her. “Where are you going?” “To gather ingredients for an antidote, if it’s not already too late.” “I already have the necessary items.” He gestured to a flour sack lying in a heap by the rear of the tent. She gaped at him. “You do?” He shrugged. “Vanje insisted when he heard of my plan to use the monkshood.” Thank heaven he had some sense, at least. “Why aren’t you using it, then, instead of torturing them with that ridiculous cattle prod?”

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An unpleasant smile crossed his face. “Vanje said I had to assemble the ingredients. Not that I had to use them.” She glowered at him. “Then I will.” Talaitha went to the bag and pulled out a canning jar full of liquid with a steeping bag suspended inside. She presumed the small cloth held the necessary ingredients, leaching their magic into the water. She also spotted a wicked-looking, curved silver knife in the sack. With her back to Marko, she slipped the blade into the pocket of her skirt before closing the bag. “Why are you acting like this?” Marko asked as she unscrewed the jar and fished out the small cheesecloth. “I’d think you’d be happy for such creatures to get what they deserve.” “Torturing any animal is an abomination.” She dropped the dripping bag and wiped her fingers on her skirt. “So is sleeping with murderous dogs, but I hear you don’t mind that. Melalo.” Ignoring the insult, Talaitha hurried to the cage. “I need him to drink this,” she said to Drew, holding up the antidote. “His head needs to be propped up first.” Drew apparently still couldn’t answer, but he slid over to Russell and tried to pick up the man’s head. His hands seemed awkward, however, and his fingers stiff and uncooperative. Still, he got Russell’s head somewhat tilted up. She stuck the glass jar between the bars as far as she could. “Fool woman,” Marko snapped. “Don’t put your arm in the cage. One of them might grab you.” “They’re in no shape for that.” She put her shoulder against the bar to extend her reach, but it was no use. The men were too far, right in the middle of the cage. “Can you take this?” she asked Drew. “I can’t reach his head.” Drew lifted a cramped-looking hand and shook his head. His normally sharp, penetrating gaze wandered, not making direct contact

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with her. Either Marko’s heavy-handed use of the prod had addled him, or else the monkshood was getting to him as well. “Then push him closer so I can give him the antidote. Please, Drew.” Marko muttered in disgust. “Talaitha, would you listen to reason for once?” When Drew shook his head this time, it wasn’t to answer her. He was blinking rapidly, appearing as though he wanted to clear mental fuzz. His breathing became labored, a sign that he, too, had ingested too much of the herb. Then he fell back, passed out cold on the cage floor. “Drew? Drew!” She whipped her head around to Marko. “Open the cage door.” He snorted. “Are you insane? It’s too dangerous.” Her stomach churned. Stubborn man. “Who will return the vast sums of money to those people waiting outside and explain this to my father? You?” His expression wavered, but he made no move to help. Her insides seethed with urgency. She had no time for his cowardice. “Give me the keys,” she said, holding out a hand. “No.” “Then open the cage, Marko. Now.” “Don’t presume to order me around, Vala.” She flinched at the nickname. “You’re not even supposed to be here. You are drabarni, a fortune teller. Not an animal handler. And you are not your father.” “I wouldn’t be so certain of that.” She reached in her skirts and pulled out the blade, pointing it at Marko. “My own father held a knife to my throat to ensure these men were captured to earn money for our people. I don’t think he’d appreciate you wasting that sacrifice—and Vanje’s—by letting them die in your care before a dime is even earned.” He glared at the blade. “So desperate to ally yourself with the dogs that killed your mother. You disgust me.”

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“These two had nothing to do with what happened to her. Now open that door.” With a growl, Marko fished keys from his vest pocket and wandered to the cage. Talaitha twisted around so that the weapon was still trained on Marko, glittering in the spotlight while he worked the padlock. He backed off when the lock clicked open but did not unlatch the door. She stuck the jar inside the bars just far enough to set it down. “Hand me the keys,” she said, holding out her free hand. “What for? The lock is open.” She gave him a tight smile. “Something I’m sure you’ll try to remedy the minute I’m inside.” He made to toss the keys, but she shook her head and thrust the blade out farther. “Hand them to me. Slowly.” When he’d complied, she added, “Now back off. Marko did as she asked, and she went to the cage door. “I’m doing you a favor, you know. They’ll bring in a lot of money for our clan if they are alive and undamaged.” The money was the least of her worries at the moment, but it wasn’t as if Marko cared otherwise. The cage door creaked as she pulled it open enough to enter. Gathering her skirts, she prepared to climb up into the cage. “They’ll eat you alive,” Marko said. “And just like your mother, you’ll deserve it.” Her angry rebuttal was cut off by movement in front of her. A disorienting shock followed when something grabbed her and slammed open the cage door. She was whipped around to find herself facing a pair of almost-rabid gold eyes, and she reacted without thinking. The knife blade sliced into Russell’s side. He cried out and yanked away. “Shit!” The knife was tugged unceremoniously from her hand as blood flowed down his side. Drew had all but exploded out of the cage and was on Marko before he could barely cry out. A solid fist connected with the man’s

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large jaw, and he went down like the limp sack lying on the ground beside him. “What are you doing?” Talaitha shouted, rushing forward. “Stop this!” Russell’s hands came from behind, yanking her back by the shoulder of her peasant blouse. The elastic holding the blouse snugly around her shoulders gave to the pressure, exposing her breasts. With a gasp, she pulled the fabric back up into place to cover herself, but before she could scream, the scarf on her head was shoved forward and tugged hard into her mouth. Tied tight behind her neck, the scarf now effectively gagged her. She was slung up over Russell’s shoulder before she knew what was happening. “Come on,” Drew shouted, and the two men raced out the back tent flap. Talaitha beat on Russell’s muscled back with her fists and uttered muffled protests through the gag as they ran. Although they kept behind the tents, it wasn’t long until someone noticed naked men had snatched a woman and were getting away. Shouts of alarm from tourists and clan members alike doubled her resolve to struggle, but Russell had her in a firm grip. Then they plunged into the woods, and the Faire disappeared behind a blanket of brown and green. Although his uneven gait indicated Russell was limping, the men ran fast—startlingly so. Pine needles layering the ground flew by in a blur. The sounds of pursuit fell away, lost to the snap of branches and bushes they pushed through and the heavy, insistent drone of the men’s breathing. The speed in which they traveled was inhuman, fast enough to crush any hope that they would be caught. Fast enough to make her feel nauseated, too, and she shut her eyes and stopped wriggling in order to try and calm her flip-flopping stomach. “Where are we going?” Russell asked. “Just follow me,” Drew said. “And try to keep up.” They ran forever, it seemed, deep enough into the mountains for her to hear the roar of water Shay Falls was named after. Far enough

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for her stomach to somewhat adjust to being bounced over Russell’s shoulder and to become acutely aware of his earthy, potent scent and hot, powerful muscles working beneath her. Long enough for night to fall in earnest, plunging the strange woods into a thick blackness the waning moon could only penetrate sporadically through the thick canopy of trees. Yet Drew and Russell seemed to have no trouble navigating in the dark, perhaps a byproduct of their glowing yellow eyes. Her head pounded from the blood rushing to it, thanks to her awkward position. She pushed herself away from Russell’s back with her arms to try and right herself a bit. Part of her wished he would carry her normally in his arms, but the thought of being cradled against his chest, staring up into his supernaturally erotic gaze, seemed a bigger threat than passing out. The waterfall noise grew distant again, fading into the backdrop of woods before they finally stopped. “Here?” she heard Russell ask. “You’re not thinkin’ of breakin’ into one of these cottages?” “I am.” And to punctuate his point, the shatter of glass followed. A moment later, a door creaked open, and she felt Russell climb a step that put wooden slats, rather than dirt and leaves, into her dim, barely adjusted night view of the ground. Entering the dwelling plunged them into even blacker darkness until Drew snapped on a switch. Talaitha blinked at the sudden flood of light, though in reality it was not all that bright. She was deposited on a worn, brown leather chair, and she promptly began working at the knot behind her head to try and loosen the gag. Russell stepped back, staring down at her. He panted with exertion as he rotated the shoulder he’d carried her over. Generous amounts of blood and dirt marred his skin, and patches of gleaming sweat shone in the lamplight. As she tugged without success at the knot he had tied with superhuman force, she took in the room. The cabin was tiny and

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sparsely furnished. A brown braided rug covered the bare wood floor. A fireplace that appeared not to have seen recent use centered one wall, and a plaid couch flanked another. The table lamp Drew flicked on when they entered sat with its dusty white shade askew. A square, wooden table and two chairs sat on one wall. She wondered who—and where—the tenants were. Obviously they weren’t at home, or the sound of breaking glass and voices would have brought them running. How long before they returned? What would the wolves do to them when they did? She gave up trying to work the knot, glaring at Russell while she tried forcing the gag out of her mouth from the front instead. It was no use. The darn thing was too tight. “Dare I take that gag off her?” Russell asked, pressing a hand to his injured side, which she’d sliced open pretty good. Wolves healed fast, though. Besides, he deserved it. He slid a gaze to Drew, who was peering out a back window. “Do you think she’ll behave?” Drew snorted. “What, Tal, behave? Don’t bet on it.” He turned. She noted that while he, too, wore generous streaks of dirt like Russell, his breathing was once again even and he had barely broken a sweat. She saw him watching her appraisal, and the heated smile he turned on her suggested a sexual interpretation for it. His eyes flicked to the other man. “You look half-tuckered, Russ. And here I thought I bonded myself to a real werewolf.” Russell glared at him. “Next time, you carry a thrashin’ filly over your shoulder while sliced up and fleein’ halfway over the mountain.” “Wuss.” Russell rolled his eyes and leaned over her. She did her best to avert her eyes from the meaty cock that was now no more than a foot away from her face. “What the hell,” he said. “Might as well get this over with.” He reached behind her head and fiddled with the knot, and miraculously, she felt the taut fabric give way.

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“I should never have trusted you,” she spat as soon as the scarf was loose. “I can’t believe you tricked me like that.” Russell laughed. “Yeah? You mean like ‘come with me and I’ll cure you’? Now, we’re even.” “Not yet, you ain’t,” Drew said. “Put her naked in a cage and let some jackhole jab her with an electrified stick. Then you’ll be even.” With that, he turned and stalked through the doorway that appeared to lead into a kitchen. Talaitha worked her jaw and licked the sides of her lips that felt dry and cracked from having the gag jammed against them. “At least I didn’t nearly give you heart failure by pretending I was dying.” She tried to stand, but Russell pushed her back down. “No, you lured me in with promises of a phony cure for a disease I’d give my left nut to be rid of.” He bent close to her face, holding the knife cut on his side that was still seeping red. She leaned away until her head pressed into the back of the chair. “Do you really want to sit here comparin’ which of us used crueler tactics?” She shoved him away. “No, I don’t want to sit here at all. I want to go back to the camp. Why did you even bring me along for the big escape, anyway?” He stood up with a wince. “I didn’t think it’d be fittin’ to dispatch a lady the way Drew took care of your Gypsy friend,” he said. “And I couldn’t very well leave you there to sound the alarm.” “Marko is hardly a friend.” She stood up and adjusted her blouse so the elastic rode higher on her shoulders. “And as fast as you seem able to run, I shouldn’t think it would matter if you’d let me scream all I wanted.” “Now there’s a picture,” he said, taking advantage of her stance to close the short distance between them. “Me lettin’ you scream.” “How did you know to fake being poisoned, anyway?” she asked, ignoring the bait. “Monkshood in small doses has no taste.” “He didn’t exactly use a small dose. And we could smell somethin’ was off about the food when it came. Didn’t eat it.” He put

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a hand to the side that was still bleeding as he leaned closer, inhaling her scent from very close to her temple. “Yet, despite your people’s lax feedin’ schedule, I find I’m starved for somethin’ quite different at the moment.” “Rein in the testosterone, stud,” Drew said, wandering back into the room. He held a longneck bottle in each hand and took a deep draw off one while handing Russell the other. “I have to decide our next move.” Talaitha moved away from Russell, making a face as he cracked open the brew. “So it’s not enough that you break into someone’s home? You have to steal their beer, too?” “My beer, you mean,” Drew said, raising the brew as if in toast. “Sure, now that you’ve put your lips all over it.” “There are other places my lips could be that should concern you more.” He waggled his brows at her and took another sip. Irritating laughter sounded deep in Russell’s throat as he popped the top off his bottle and followed suit. “Besides,” Drew went on, “this beer was mine when I put it in the fridge. This is my cabin.” Both she and Russell stopped and glanced around. “I’m supposed to believe you broke into your own cabin?” she asked with open suspicion. Drew raised his arms and glanced down at himself. “And where exactly do you imagine I’ve been hidin’ my key? I lost it in the woods when I shifted and shed my clothes.” He scruffed the top of his spiky hair. “My favorite hat was with ’em. Damn, I hate when that happens.” “You live here?” Russell asked. “Seriously?” Drew flashed him a look. “Better than where you live, I’d wager.” “No offense,” the other man said. “It just surprised me. You said you were new around here, and lots of us in the area live a bit more in the open.”

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“Not somethin’ I’m a fan of, by the way,” Drew said, setting his bottle down before crossing the room to the other doorway. “I gotta hit the can.” As he vanished down the hall, Talaitha felt Russell’s eyes on her. Somehow, the idea of being alone with one naked werewolf was suddenly much more disconcerting than the thought of being alone with two. “You sure have a strange sense of time,” he said, taking another long draw off his beer. He licked his lips when he was through, and her heart skipped a beat. “What?” He took a step closer and folded his arms. “Last time I saw you, you said you’d be right back. That was days ago.” She shrugged, but avoided the glaze that was flaring gold. “I have things to do other than hang around a cage, you know.” “But you thought about us, though. I could feel it.” Her feet seemed to melt into the floor when he moved closer. She saw twitches below his waist that made it evident he was becoming aroused. “I don’t get why I can sense you so strong now. I ain’t even touched you yet.” “Haven’t touched me? You just lugged me over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes.” “That ain’t the kind of touch I mean. Mates can pick up one another’s strong emotions once they’ve gotten physical.” His next step brought him close enough for her to feel heat pulsing off his skin. “Meanin’ once I’ve fucked you, if you still want to play coy.” She clutched her hands together in front of her. “Don’t talk that way to me. You have no right.” “I have every right, and you know it.” She flinched when he reached toward her, but he pressed forward and stroked his fingers through her hair. “Must be the magic you have in you that lets us sense each other already. I can feel it callin’ to mine.”

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She stiffened, but a shiver passed through her at the touch of his hand. “Heads up,” Drew called from the doorway. A pair of jeans came flying through the air. Russell caught them without missing a beat, wincing when he lifted the arm on the side he’d been cut. “I see the one between your legs already is.” Drew pushed away from the doorframe, his boot heels striking the floor with each step he took toward her. He held a red T-shirt, along with a washrag and what appeared to be a bandage. “Thanks,” Russell said. “Figured Tal would appreciate not having to keep actin’ like her vision don’t extend below the waist,” Drew said. He was already dressed, and Talaitha couldn’t help but stare at the results. It was odd to see Drew clothed at all, and the simple outfit he had chosen molded so perfectly to his form that it accentuated his physique in a wholly appealing, masculine way. Tight black denims skimmed every inch of the muscular legs and hips she’d grown quite familiar with, and the skin-hugging black muscle shirt left no doubt as to the exquisitely sculpted chest beneath. Black boots completed the picture of a well-turned cowboy, even without his hat. The kind of cowboy who had invaded her most shameful dreams. But until the past week, his face was not the one who had starred in her unspoken fantasies. That man stood in front of him, zipping the fly on a pair of blue jeans that somehow fit even more snugly than Drew’s. Drew frowned at the cut on Russell’s front. “That should have healed already,” he said. “Damn knife must have been pure silver.” “It was an accident,” Talaitha said. “Which wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t grabbed me like a madman.” She watched as he used the rag to wash away the blood and then bandaged the small wound. Russell tugged on the red T-shirt, pulling it over the dressing. It took her a moment to register what the saying on the front referred to, and her mouth fell open when she did. He noticed her response and glanced down at the slogan, which was

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written inside the outline of a steer head with a pair of panties stuck on the horns. He arched a brow at Drew. “‘Will Ride for Beer’?” Drew grinned. “Won that shirt at a bull-ridin’ contest. I came in second.” Russell’s eyes narrowed in skepticism. “You did the rodeo circuit?” “Mechanical bull. As in a bar? The real thing don’t exactly take to our kind, even if I was half-cocked enough to want to try it.” Russell snorted. “You may be many things, but half-cocked ain’t one of ’em.” The way he eyed him up and down lit a slow burn in Talaitha’s stomach. “I’d say you’re nothin’ if not one hundred percent fully cocked.” “And ready at all times.” Drew backed up a step. “I reckon we could use a week-long shower, not that the bucket of cold water before we were supposed to make our freak show debut wasn’t appreciated. But we have a couple of things to decide first.” His gaze fell on her. “Like what to do with you while we lather up.” She folded her arms and tried to project calm. “I’d say you’ve done quite enough. And if you’re trying to suggest I hold the soap for you while you bathe, you can forget it. Just let me go so I can return to my clan.” Drew shook his head slowly. “You want to be here with us.” His eyes held the same note of challenge as his words. “Or else you wouldn’t have come blazin’ into that tent to rescue us from a dire fate.” “Not quite so dire, considering you were faking.” “Didn’t fake bein’ shocked by a cattle prod,” he snapped. “That shit was real enough.” She lifted her chin, and not merely because his tall form continued advancing on her. “Just because I don’t believe in cruelty to animals doesn’t mean I wanted you dragging me off like primitive cavemen.”

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Russell’s voice came from close behind her. Too close. “I believe cavemen used to drag their women by the hair, not over their shoulders.” His breath caressed her cheek as he leaned in, and his body heat seared her. “And they would not have resisted the urge to squeeze that ripe, round ass.” With Russell pressed against her and Drew close enough for his tangy male aroma to short-circuit her senses, Talaitha felt very much like the meat filling in a hot, spicy sandwich. An image of the three of them tangled together without any garments between them caught her off guard, and she lurched sideways to escape their mind-twisting influence. If she stayed, things would get out of control. She knew they would. Without hesitation, she bolted and made a beeline for the cabin door.

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Chapter Five Talaitha fully expected them to stop her from escaping and felt disappointment mingled with irritation when they didn’t. She managed to close her hand around the knob and pull it open to a rush of cool mountain air. The folly of her actions didn’t quite sink in as she bustled from the cabin and struck off through the night. She was too desperate to distance herself from the men who had a way of making her feel naked, even when she was layered up and they hadn’t a stitch on. She had barely made it into the woods when Drew suddenly materialized in front of her, cutting her off. She let out a shriek of surprise. Somehow he’d gotten in front of her without making a sound, despite the cowboy boots he was still wearing. “Leave me alone,” she said, clutching at her chest to still the heartbeat jolted into overdrive. “And I suppose you know the way back to the campground?” he asked, folding his arms. “I’m not an idiot,” she snapped. “I saw which way we came.” Sort of. And from upside down. “Really? Because you’re goin’ the wrong way.” “I am?” Her eyes flicked around, and she turned to survey the cabin behind her. “I was sure we came this way.” He shook his head. “And if I pointed you that direction,” he said, jabbing a finger toward a path off the right side of the cabin, “how are you plannin’ on makin’ the journey?” “On two feet, of course. Same as you.”

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He grinned. “Darlin’, I understand how havin’ your hands all over Russell’s hot skin can make one a mite oblivious, but surely you realized we were movin’ at wolf speed? We’re supernatural and it took us an hour to get here. For a little spitfire like you, you’re talkin’ a day-and-a-half walk.” “My hands were not all over him.” Still, her eyes widened. She knew they’d been moving fast, but they’d really come that far? No wonder she’d felt sick. Drew flicked a glance at the half moon overhead. “Or should I put it this way? Two long nights alone in the woods, where all manner of critters more dangerous than we are would love to sink their teeth in your tender flesh.” “It won’t be that long,” she said. “The clan will be looking for me.” A growl sounded behind her, and she spun around with a gasp. The wolf stalking her had familiar reddish-brown fur, along with serious-looking fangs and a feral gaze that he leveled on her. Panic shot her behind Drew where he could shield her, and she gripped his powerful arms while peering around him at the beast. She saw its fur jutting out at odd angles from around the bandage on its side. “It’s just Russell,” Drew said over his shoulder. “But if you take off alone, that might not be the case next time.” To the wolf he said, “You shouldn’t be shiftin’ with that cut, if you can help it.” “I know who it is,” she snapped, still cowering behind him. “That doesn’t mean I trust him.” Drew laughed. “Yeah, I suppose we all have some trust issues in this relationship.” She rolled her eyes. “We don’t have a ‘relationship.’” Nevertheless, she quite suddenly became aware of the warm, inviting muscles beneath her hands and the spicy scent of his musk. She dropped her arms immediately.

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The wolf straightened up on hind legs, its fur disappearing into the shape of a once-again-naked Russell. “No, we have more than that. Much more.” She came around to stand beside Drew. “I hardly consider kidnapping to be a relationship, let alone more.” Russell cocked his head. “Yeah? What are you in such a hurry to run back to, Tal? A life where folks leave you to fend for yourself on a strange, dangerous mountain just because you touched me?” “That is the Romani way. I wouldn’t expect gadjes to understand.” Drew turned to her. “But you aren’t runnin’ back to them, are you? You’re runnin’ away from us.” She pushed a stray curl away from her face. “Do you blame me? I don’t want this.” “Are you truly runnin’ away because you don’t want us?” he asked. “Or are you runnin’ because you do?” She never got the chance to protest the assumption. Drew’s mouth came down, his lips engulfing hers with a need that stole her breath. Tingles shot along her extremities as his tongue prodded for entrance, and without thinking, she parted her lips for him. Russell came up behind her, sweeping her hair away to lay down a fiery trail of kisses along her neck that made her shiver. She jerked in shock at the feel of his erect cock grinding against her ass, and she broke away from Drew’s kiss. “I can’t,” she whispered. “This is wrong.” “No, Tal,” Russell crooned into her ear. “We are the only men it’ll ever be right with.” “It’s not right for me with any man, let alone two.” She put her hands on Drew’s chest when he tried to claim her lips again. “That’s why I’ve never, well, why I can’t give myself.” She felt Russell stiffen, and he took her upper arm to spin her toward him. “But your father said you were married.” “I was.”

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His eyes glittered gold in warning. “I’m supposed to believe your husband just left you be?” “I didn’t say that.” She pulled out of his grip and backed away from them, hoping to figure out how to breathe again. “I don’t want to talk about this with you.” Russell growled. “I’m the one person you damn well should talk about this with.” Chill mountain air penetrated her skin now that she was no longer pressed between their superheated bodies, though as she rubbed her bare shoulders, she wondered whether that was truly why she shivered. “Look, could we please go back inside? It’s cold out here.” “You’re the one who came flyin’ out the door like the cabin was on fire,” Drew said, but they headed back. “Tell me what happened with your husband,” Russell persisted when they were back in the quaint living room. Drew plopped down in the leather chair she’d abandoned earlier, his long legs stretched out in front of him. She sat on the plaid sofa, feeling a bit disconcerted when Russell didn’t follow suit. He had thankfully put on the jeans he’d shucked just inside the cabin door, but now he stood over her, shirtless, staring down with his arms crossed and a generous amount of gold flaring in his eyes. “Stop doing that,” she said. “You’re not the krisari.” “The who?” “Kris is their form of law,” Drew said. “Like a court. Krisari Roms are judges.” She stared at Drew. “How do you know so much about our ways?” He shrugged. “Let’s just say I’ve had dealin’s with Rom in the past.” “And you didn’t answer the question,” Russell said, eyeing her.

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She glared at him, but gave up with a sigh. “Romani marriages are arranged by our families. I was promised to Yoska when we were two years old.” “And you married him.” The flat tone held a hint of accusation. “I was sixteen when the wedding was planned. I spent the night before in the women’s tent, as is our custom.” She felt her lips draw tight on the rest, and she stopped. “And?” Drew prompted, now gazing at her with curiosity. “My mother came to the tent, and the other women were sent away so we could speak privately. I presumed she meant to give me some words of wisdom, although I couldn’t imagine anything she could say that would change the way I felt.” “How did you feel?” Russell asked, his tone wary. “Terrified. Panicked that I was about to do the wrong thing.” Now his lips drew tight. “Because you were. You sensed it even then.” “I had known Yoska all my life, but I knew nothing about him. Nothing that made me feel we should be together that way. But such things are not how marriages are determined in our culture.” “No,” Drew said, “they’re little more than sales contracts, aimin’ to boost the family’s financial or political position.” “So did your mother help convince you?” Russell asked. She swallowed, her throat suddenly tight. “She never got the chance. We’d barely started talking when she responded to something she seemed to sense outside. She told me to wait in the tent, but curiosity got the better of me and I went after her. I thought it was a man, at first, waiting there for her. But as it turns out, he wasn’t human.” Drew cleared his throat as he and Russell exchanged looks. “A werewolf? He attacked your mother.” “Not at first. They were talking, and it was clear that they knew one another. Then my father showed up, and things got ugly. He ordered me back into the tent.” She closed her eyes, wishing she

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could tell the story without having to remember that night. “This time, I obeyed. The sounds were terrible. Vicious shouts, violent animal growls. I covered my ears and prayed it would end, and unfortunately, it did. By the time silence fell, my mother was dead. So was the werewolf that had killed her.” The room fell silent for a short span as well, and it was Russell who spoke first. “I am so sorry, Talaitha.” She brushed away memories threatening to return. “The wedding was postponed, obviously. Six months was given for grieving and cleansing following the death, and I managed to stretch that time out to a year. But when I was seventeen, the wedding tent was again put up, and I was expected to walk into it and join myself to Yoska. And that’s what I did.” She could see dangerous little flames dancing in Russell’s gaze, but it was Drew who spoke up. “I’m surprised the clan didn’t view what happened as a bad omen for the marriage. Your father didn’t try to stop to the weddin’ altogether?” A bitter snort escaped her lips. “Oh, there were murmurs of it being prikaza, like you said. I myself pleaded that point with my father several times. But what happened did not deter him. If anything, he seemed more desperate than ever to marry me off to Yoska.” “So you were officially married to the man,” Russell said. “But he never made love to you?” “Not for lack of trying.” She felt her face grow hot, and she stared down at her feet. “I mean, he wanted what he had every right to expect as my lawful husband. But I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t give myself to him like that.” She rose and paced the small room, clutching at her upper arms. “He was actually quite patient with me at first. He assumed my reluctance was because the wedding brought back memories of my mother. I thought that was it, too, for a time. But it never got any better.”

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“That wasn’t the reason,” Russell said. “Werewolf mates will instinctively avoid sex with anyone other than their destined partners.” She blinked as a note of truth rang through his words. She’d never considered it before, but now she had the odd feeling he was right. Part of her had been holding out for the right partner, only she’d never found him. Until now. “How long did this go on?” Drew asked. “Six months.” The men stared at her. “That man was your husband for six months and never touched you?” Russell asked in obvious astonishment. “I can’t be near you for five minutes without havin’ to have my hands on you. Maybe I should revise my opinion of him.” She felt her stomach warm. “He tried every single night to get me into his bed. Because I would get so completely hysterical, he backed off rather than forcing the issue. At least, until the final night, when he came home late from the campfire. He’d been drinking and talking to some of the men, and finally admitted I hadn’t let him touch me. They were appalled, of course. They advised him to stop giving me so much freedom and simply take what was his. They said I’d grow to like it if he made me see it wasn’t so bad.” Russell’s nostrils flared. “He raped you?” “Almost. He was good and drunk, not to mention very strong.” “How did you stop him?” Russell’s voice rose until it boomed through the small room. “He backed me into the tiny closet in the motor home we shared, and the box holding my wedding veil came tumbling down onto my head. I grabbed the veil and tied it around my lower half and through my legs tight, so he couldn’t, well, get through the layers to finish the deed.” Drew, who had been scowling almost as hard as Russell, actually cracked a half smile. “You used your bridal veil as a chastity belt?” She blinked at him. “I don’t know exactly what that is.”

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“It’s a kinda wide strip of leather worn between your thighs so a man can’t penetrate you.” The warmth in her face flared hotter. “I suppose that isn’t far from wrong.” “What did he do then?” “He passed out, but not before striking me in the face first. Hard.” She fingered her cheekbone as she remembered the sharp, stinging blow. Then she returned to the chair and sat down on the edge. “I took my black eye and the veil and went straight to my father. I expected him to be angry with Yoska for harming me. Instead, my crime of denying him was the one that was declared a matter for the kris. I was accused of breaching my father’s contract with Yoska’s family.” She saw Drew shake his head with a disgusted look. “I threw the veil down in front of the krisari and called it a line I would not be forced into crossing again. That earned me the nickname ‘vala,’ meaning ‘veil.’ Not to mention others that were worse.” “And they dissolved the marriage,” Drew said. “Some agreed with me. Many didn’t. His family wanted the dàrro repaid, of course, but they also wanted more than just the bride price. They wanted restitution for the abiàv—the wedding. And they wanted money awarded for Yoska’s suffering and humiliation.” “What about your father?” Russell asked. “What did he want?” She gave him a bitter smile. “Father was furious with me. The daughter of the clan leader, showering him with such embarrassment. The clan divided into two camps. One did not condone what I did, but felt that because of the circumstances I should be allowed to resume my life among them after a time of cleansing and punishment. The other did not condone what I did, and insisted I either be forced to accept the marriage or banished for my refusal to obey the clan leader. My father.” The men stared at her, Russell with open incredulity. “The rift between the clan members became a physical division,” she went on, “and eventually Yoska’s family took over rule of those

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who had sided with them. They packed up their tents and left. We have not crossed paths since.” “Good riddance,” Drew said. She shook her head. “Not for me. The problems did not leave with Yoska. I may have been forgiven on the surface, but it was not forgotten.” Russell nodded. “All the more reason for you to break ties, free yourself to explore our life together.” She sighed. “I dreamed of a handsome gadje who would save me from a dull, narrow-minded existence. He looked like you. But you never came.” A shadow crossed his angled features. “I’m sorry.” “I’m not. Eventually, I realized that I could not sit around waiting for a fantasy to save me. I had to create the life I wanted on my own.” “But now you don’t have to worry about that,” Russell said. “I’m here.” She shook her head. “And it’s like Yoska all over again, don’t you see?” He recoiled as though he’d been slapped. “No. I don’t see.” “All my life, my father told me what my life would be. I would marry Yoska because he had decided it, even though I knew deep down that was not who I was meant for. Then you came along, barely managing a hello before you told me I was meant to be yours because you said so. When do I get a chance to decide my fate? When do men stop telling me which of them will be stealing away my innocence?” Drew and Russell exchanged glances. “She’s right,” Drew said. Russell shook his head, but heaved a sigh. “I suppose when you put it like that, I might have come on a bit strong.” “Might have?” “Fine, so I came on strong. There seemed little reason to play games. Werewolves know our mates on sight. It’s a part of our magic. And I could tell you had already sensed it, too.”

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She swallowed. “I knew I’d seen you in my dreams. But that doesn’t mean I have to accept that you are some grand destiny.” “No.” He moved closer to her. “Your heart will have to tell you that.” “It can’t change the truth that this is wrong.” Russell lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Close your eyes.” “What?” “Just for a minute. I want to try something.” She snorted. “I’ll bet you do. Forget it.” “Talaitha.” The hypnotic timbre of his velvet tone was back. “Just close your eyes.” His eyes implored her even as the words did, and after a moment, she sighed. “Fine.” She did as he bid her, feeling ridiculous as she stood there with her eyes squeezed shut and her fists clenched at her sides. She shouldn’t have been the least bit surprised to feel the brush of his lips on hers. Nevertheless, the tender kiss startled a muffled gasp from her. She’d thought Drew’s kiss was electric, not that she’d had any to compare it to aside from Yoska. But she felt she might literally drown in this kiss. She felt his tongue tracing the outline of her lips, and another little gasp of shocked pleasure opened them so he could sweep that hot, wet fire into her mouth. Jolts of need flooded through her in waves, muddying her thoughts until she couldn’t quite remember what they’d just been arguing about. Her fists gradually unclenched at her sides and rose to slide around the back of his neck. To her disappointment, he pulled away—but not far. “Tell me that this feels wrong,” he murmured while he tipped her head back and nibbled down her jaw and throat. “Tell me there is even one single, solitary bit of this that doesn’t feel a hundred and fifty percent right.” He kissed his way along her shoulder and flicked his tongue along the hollow of her collarbone.

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“I can’t,” she said, breathless, her hands still threaded through the back of his hair. She felt him tense up. “You can’t what?” Moments passed when she tried to form words. “Talk.” Then Drew was behind her, his hot flesh molding to her back. His shirt had come off, too, and his hard chest burned desire through her as he pulled her close. He took hold of her jaw to turn her face to his and kissed her hungrily. She matched his fervor, her tongue pushing into his mouth to taste sexy male and beer. It was an exciting taste, one that drove her longing into lust and sent a hot wetness between her thighs. Russell sank to his knees in front of her, and she felt the elastic of her blouse give way as he tugged the fabric down beneath her breasts. Her nipples already tingled from the men’s kisses, and exposing them to the cool air of the cabin brought them rapidly to stiff peaks. She remembered the cover of her romance book and the time she tried to imagine herself as bold as the heroine. Now here she was, baring her flesh to Russell while kissing Drew—and loving every moment of it. Drew’s hands came around to circle her breasts, lifting and kneading them as a groan rumbled deep in his throat. Her nipples were somehow practically screaming for attention, and it was a need Russell seemed to feel. His mouth went to work, kissing and licking her nipples while Drew squeezed the flesh around them. She cried out against Drew’s mouth, and the legs growing wet with her juices threatened to buckle beneath her. “I can feel your need,” Drew said. “I can smell it, too. Your scent is like hot desire, and I’m goin’ to see just how high I can fan that flame.” She felt her skirt being yanked down, and before she could react, her panties were peeled over her hips as well. Now she stood naked between two men, and yet she felt only the smallest twinge of shame. The rest was swallowed by her utter, uncompromising need to feel

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Russell inside her, to let the men do to her what she could never allow herself to give in to before. Russell’s lips against her navel prompted a strong, steady throb in her clit, and before long, his tongue dove into the cleft between her thighs to find and stroke that throb into a mad, heady passion. Drew’s fingers rolled and pinched her nipples, and she could feel his hard cock pressing against her. Pushing her hips forward drove Russell’s talented tongue deeper along her slit, and pushing back let her rub her ass against Drew to feel how amazingly rock hard his cock was for her. How to decide which pleasure to surrender to first? Her moans joined theirs until the tiny cabin was filled with the sounds of breathing and growls. Soon, her thighs began to quiver and weaken, and she had to lean her weight against Drew’s hot, muscled perfection to keep from falling over. “I want my cock in you so bad I can’t fuckin’ stand it,” he whispered to her. “But I’ll try to be a gentleman and give Russell the honor.” She couldn’t even respond. The sensations in her body were fast overwhelming her, claiming her for a role in womanhood she never thought she’d experience, let alone crave with every inch of her being. Her hands slid into Russell’s sweat-dampened hair, fingers curling around the strands to fist handfuls and press his mouth firmly against her aching, dripping clit. “Lick me harder, Russell,” she managed. His moan in response, vibrating against her pussy lips, was what undid her. A powerful tremor rocked her body as an orgasm slammed into her hard. She cried out in shock as much as in desire. Never had she imagined such exquisite, almost painful pleasure existed, though her romance book had spoken of an explosive moment. Her legs gave way as the waves of climax crashed over her, and while she was still reeling, Russell pulled away and sat on the recliner behind him. “Straddle me, darlin’,” he said, his voice thick.

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Drew had to help her onto his lap as she shuddered with the enormity of her release. When she managed to open her eyes, the golden fire in Russell’s sent all-new pangs of want through her. She’d never seen such feral, undisguised lust in a man’s eyes before—not even at the height of Yoska’s desperation to claim her. And this time, she wanted nothing more than to be the woman Russell ached for. She wanted to give him the unbelievably intense pleasure she’d just experienced. His erection was hot and throbbing between their stomachs as she straddled his lap. They locked eyes and stared for a moment, breathing in tandem. Drew was still behind her, and she knew the knob of flesh she felt rubbing up and down along her back was his cock. “Take her,” Drew said, and a flare of excitement ran along her spine at the insistence in his words. “Take her now, before I do.” “Lift up that luscious ass,” Russell said to her. “That’s right. Just a bit higher.” She took hold of his shoulders and wriggled her hips, feeling both scared and desperate for what was about to happen to her. There would be pain, she knew, since she’d heard talk in the women’s tent. But she was really going to do this. She would give herself to a man who was not only a gadje, but a werewolf. And she couldn’t wait another minute to make it so. The feel of Russell sliding the mushroom head of his dick along her wet slit sent a moan of need from her, and she rose up higher so he could position himself. The moment his cockhead slipped just inside her tight hole, however, she froze. “Slowly now,” he murmured. “Lower that beautiful cunt over my cock nice and easy. Don’t rush it.” “Will that keep it from hurting?” she asked, her voice shaking. “No. I just want to savor every inch of your wet heat.” She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. Then she did it. She took his cock inside her, marveling at the way his bulk stretched her

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as she sank down on him. His cry of need set gooseflesh on her arms, and her legs shook with the effort of lowering in a slow, steady descent. Her fingernails dug into his arms, but she couldn’t stop. All she could feel was Russell breaking through the last barrier between her and a woman’s secrets, spearing her virginity with his hot, pulsing cock. Halfway in, she couldn’t take it anymore. She dropped her bottom straight down until she was sitting on his thighs. She was full of Russell’s erection now, up to the womb. She sat still, feeling her pussy walls grip his shaft as she wondered what to do next. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” Russell said. His eyes were shut, but reopened to burn through her. “Your cunt feels incredible, squeezin’ my cock.” She didn’t answer, and he apparently read the question in her eyes. “Ride me, Tal. Slide your hips and rock on my dick. See how good it feels.” With a nod, she lifted up and sank back down with a sharp hiss of pleasure as he bottomed out again. “You’re right,” she breathed. “It feels incredible. But when is it going to hurt?” “It won’t,” Drew said from behind her. His hands came around again to toy with her nipples, and without even thinking, she responded by rocking her hips back and forth on Russell’s thick, hard cock. “Virgin mates only feel pain when they let the wrong man in, so to speak.” “And you didn’t.” Russell’s tone sounded fevered now, and his hands gripped her hips while he began thrusting his pelvis upward to meet hers. “Not even when your clan tried to marry you off. You waited for this. For me.” He kissed her deeply, desperately, grabbing her hair and pushing his tongue into her mouth. She worked herself against his cock, feeling his tongue plunder in and out much the same way his dick was moving. Drew’s pelvis pressed against her back, which was growing slick with sweat as he ground his rock-hard erection against her. She

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broke off and tipped her head back against Drew’s belly, rocking her hips back and forth rather than up and down. Her clit rubbed Russell’s pubic hair delightfully this way, and she moaned in pleasure. Drew came around to the side of the chair and bent over her. “Give me that hot mouth,” he said, and without awaiting a response, he crushed his lips over hers. His tongue was forceful, insistent, and she matched him stroke for stroke. Her hand sought and found his stiff cock, and she rubbed it with her palm. What a delicious feeling! His dick was long, hotter than a summer noon, and somehow satiny soft and iron hard at the same time. He cried out, and she froze her hand. “Don’t stop,” he said, pushing his cock against her palm. “I want you so bad it hurts.” “Come here,” Russell said. “I’ll help you with that.” Drew straightened up, and his cock stuck out near Russell and Talaitha’s faces. He was so erect the head was almost purple, and the shaft pulsed and jerked. To her shock, Russell wet his lips and then took that hard cock right into his mouth. Drew moaned in obvious appreciation, and she felt Russell’s cock throb inside her just like Drew’s was doing. She reached up to finger his hard chest, brushing over his nipples while she wondered if they were as sensitive as her own. His gritted teeth hissing in response seemed to indicate they were. Russell’s head bobbed back and forth as he worked the shaft, and Drew began pumping his hips. Her hand wandered along his hip and down to the balls hanging between his thighs, and she gently ran her fingers across them. “Shit, that feels so good,” he said. She wasn’t sure he meant her, but she kept stroking his balls anyway. They were hairy, and the skin beneath was wrinkled, and they felt pleasantly weighty when she cupped them in her palm. Russell pulled away for a moment, and she couldn’t help herself. She flicked out her tongue and ran it along the side of Drew’s shaft,

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ending at the swollen bulb at the end. Still holding on to his balls, she licked around the tip of his cock, tasting salty fluid and male musk. “Fuck, you look hot doin’ that,” Russell said. Then he joined her, and both their tongues laved Drew’s cock, mingling on occasion as they licked up and down. Drew’s head fell back with a groan that sounded less than human, and Talaitha tried to find a rhythm of riding Russell while pleasuring his alpha. The task was easier said than done, and finally she playfully pushed Russell’s head away from Drew’s cock and plunged her lips over the tip. She eagerly took him deep in her mouth but couldn’t fit him all the way in. She grabbed the base of his dick with one hand while bobbing her head up and down the way she’d seen Russell doing. Russell grabbed her nipples, tugging on them until her clit’s throb sharpened in warning that climax was approaching. She managed to get a rhythm going, fucking Russell’s cock while fucking Drew with her mouth. The tandem thrusting built a divine pressure in her pelvis. “Jesus, woman, I’m goin’ to shoot cum down your throat if you don’t stop actin’ like a hot, cock-starved bitch,” Drew said, but he grabbed her hair and rode her mouth nonetheless. She paused, but Russell let go of one nipple and reached around to deliver a pleasantly sharp slap to her ass. “Don’t you listen to him,” he said. “Keep ridin’ us like you’ll die if you don’t. Don’t you dare fuckin’ stop.” What was it about that voice, and why was it that the more vulgar his talk, the better she liked it? His words redoubled her need and her efforts, and she sucked Drew deep while pounding her ass down against Russell’s thighs. “That does it,” Drew said, his eyes flaming a brilliant, red-rimmed gold. “You’re fuckin’ mine.” He got behind her, lifting her off Russell’s lap. She cried out in surprise and more than a little frustration as his cock slid out of her and Drew stood her up on quivering legs.

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“Get on your back, cowboy,” Drew said to Russell, whose cock was slick with Talaitha’s juices and looked stiff enough to burst. He winced a little upon sliding off the recliner, but complied nonetheless and laid himself down on the rug. “Now get on him again,” Drew whispered from behind her, his hands on her shoulders. “Sink that cock deep in you until you’re sittin’ on him.” She needed no further invitation, but Russell gave it to her anyway by holding his arms out to her. She went to him, straddling his waist and gripping the cock that was jumping on his belly. She was aware of Drew messing around by her legs as she drove the shaft back inside herself with a grateful hiss. She glanced down to see the man had shoved their T-shirts under her knees, padding them. “Thank you,” she said in a hoarse approximation of her voice. He moved behind her, pushing Russell’s legs apart to get closer to her. “Oh, you’re about to thank me, darlin’. Lean forward a tick.” He pushed his hand between her shoulder blades, urging her forward. She lowered herself, careful to avoid Russell’s injury. “Kiss me,” Russell said, his eyes aglow with golden fire. Their mouths met with a groan, and her clit throbbed with demands that she rub herself against his pelvis. She did, but froze at the feel of Drew’s cock pushing itself between her ass cheeks. “What are you doing?” she asked over her shoulder, a bit alarmed. “Claimin’ you.” He ran a hand over one of her arms, which was supporting herself over Russell. “Just relax.” Between her body’s incessant needs and Drew’s prodding, it was near impossible to do anything of the sort. His cockhead rubbed against her puckered hole, and she realized what he was trying to do. “You can’t,” she said. “I won’t hurt you. Trust me.” Before awaiting a reply, he thrust himself forward. She gave a startled whimper and tensed as she felt his stiff shaft surge up inside her ass, filling her right alongside Russell’s pulsing cock.

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Her panic soon turned to surprised relief when the expected flare of pain didn’t happen. In fact, having two men deep inside her felt unbelievably right. Incredible. “Oh, my,” she said, reveling wide-eyed in the potent sensation of being stretched to the brink with cock. “I told you, sex won’t hurt with us,” Drew said, pulling back almost to her entrance. “Not in a bad way, anyway. Now, hold still for a minute and just enjoy the ride.” Her arms quivered from holding herself steady over Russell as Drew began to pump his hips. “Jesus, woman,” he said. “You’re so tight with Russell in you, too, that I can barely move. My cock’s ready to explode already.” Russell’s face looked pinched, and he clenched his jaw as he circled her breasts with his hands. “I can feel him fuckin’ you,” Russell said through his gritted teeth. “I’m gonna lose it inside you before you have a chance to move again.” “Go ahead, Tal,” Drew said, his voice also strained. “Fuck him, darlin’. Move with me and show your mates how much you like our cocks in you.” Her pussy squeezed around Russell’s shaft at the words, and she couldn’t control herself anymore. Unable to restrain herself enough to coordinate her rhythm with Drew’s, she let his cock thrusts push her sheath up and down along Russell, and she began slamming her hips back down with each stroke. Russell growled something that was less than human and pinched her nipples in response. She was so close now—closer than she thought possible to her men, closer than ever to a blinding climax. “I’m ready,” Drew said, moving her hair aside to lay feverish kisses along her neck and shoulder while his hands grabbed and kneaded her breasts. She rode Russell hard now, feeling his cock piston in and out of her while her clit rubbed against his magnificent body.

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“I most definitely fuckin’ acknowledge that you are Russell’s true mate,” Drew went on. “And mine. Tell me you believe it, Tal. Tell me to make it official.” “Yes,” she said, feeling her body begin a sharp ascent to the top of climax. “I’ve known it since the first time I saw him.” “Be mine, then,” Russell said, his face contorting as though he, too, were nearing the edge of orgasm. “Let him mark you.” Drew’s tongue and lips on her shoulder drove her to the brink, and she tipped her head farther to the side to give him access. “I claim you for this pack. Forever.” The scream that followed was her own, accompanied by the unexpected sensation of white-hot, sharp needles sinking into her shoulder. Searing pain bloomed fierce and fast, then immediately exploded into all-consuming pleasure. Still, a flutter of panic dulled the heady lust. “No!” she gasped to Russell through gritted teeth. “He’s biting me. I can’t be one of you.” “You’ll stay human,” he said, grasping her face in his hands. “He’s just makin’ you ours.” “Oh.” She relaxed. “But I thought I already was.” She’d barely gotten the last word out when the claim bulldozed over her. All the dreams that whispered she was fated for this man, even the past few days of feeling pulled to his call, faded in comparison to the sense of being taken whole by them both. She hadn’t truly been his until this very moment, and now they were inextricably joined. She had never felt a sense of belonging like this, not with her clan nor even her family. The three of them were bonded now, and she could feel their need for her every bit as strongly as she felt hers for them. Her cry this time rose louder than her surprised shout of pain, growing into a long moan of pure, erotic bliss. “Fuck me harder,” she said to Russell, barely registering her blunt, base language. “I need

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you deeper.” She felt Drew’s mouth pulling away, but she grabbed the back of his head. “No. I need your teeth in me, too.” “I can’t with you gyratin’ like a pole dancer,” he said, his hot breath on her neck. “But I’m right here.” He tugged her hair hard enough to pull her head back. “Dik mandi, Talaitha. Look at me while you come.” Their eyes met, and she wondered whether hers looked as glazed and feral as his. Then she couldn’t think anymore. His searing gaze, and her ass slapping Russell’s thighs with each stroke, all proved too much. She tumbled right over the peak of orgasm, breaking eye contact with Drew as she catapulted somewhere she had never been before. She was barely aware of Drew and Russell stiffening up and shouting their climaxes, clutching her to them as though the universe itself required it. It was only after several long moments of anguished moans and continued rocking that the waves of orgasm subsided, and their motions stilled until Russell cradled her against his chest, with her listening to the erratic sound of his heart. Something important about the final moments before she lost herself to heaven niggled at the back of her mind, but she was too fuzzy to put a finger on it. And when Drew suggested a three-way shower, she forgot altogether.

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Chapter Six Talaitha woke to the sound of a husky, seductive growl and the feel of Drew pulling her closer against his naked form. Her eyes refused to open, and her thoughts were pleasantly numb with sleep, but her body responded automatically to his touch and potent male scent. Even without opening her eyes, she could tell from the pale light against her lids that it was early morning. Fingers slid over her nipples, which tightened deliciously. Wetness slid from her cunt as she reached down to find him stiff and ready for her. Her hand curled around his cock, which jumped in appreciation. Her pussy dampened in memory of the way that long shaft had slid in and out of her in the shower the previous night. He’d fucked her in slow, maddening strokes until she clutched at the slippery walls and her screams of insane pleasure echoed through the tiny bathroom. Then he’d given her what she’d wanted—hard and fast. Now, she worked her fist over his rock of a dick eagerly, picking up the pace when she heard his erotic moan. “Roll onto your stomach,” he whispered, interrupting her sexy little flashback. “I want to try somethin’.” Her stomach gave a flip at the thought. She couldn’t wait to find out what new thing he wanted to tantalize her with, but she’d barely begun to turn over when a disturbing realization hit. The knowledge was strong and sure, and, based on the way Drew suddenly froze, she knew he had picked up on it as well. Something was wrong with Russell.

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Drew tossed back the quilt they’d shared and leaned over her. She turned to Russell. He was lying on his back, his eyes shut tight and mouth open. His skin was dewy with sweat. Drew shook the man’s shoulder. “Hey, Russ. Wake up.” The lack of response brought Talaitha more fully awake. “Russell?” She glanced up at Drew, who was scowling over her. “Maybe he’s a heavy sleeper.” “No, he ain’t. C’mon, partner.” His voice grew louder. “Rise and shine.” That brought an irritated moan from Russell, but beyond that, he didn’t stir. “What the hell’s that?” Drew asked, pointing at the bandage on Russell’s side. Her mouth pressed into a tight line when she saw the bright-red stain seeping through the gauze. Now Drew was out of bed, and he rounded the foot to come around Russell’s side. He bent over the other man while Talaitha rose up on an elbow, frowning down at her mate. With his body still against hers, she could tell he was hotter than usual. And his skin did seem flushed. Drew pulled open one of Russell’s eyelids, and the man finally flinched. “What the hell are you lookin’ for?” Russell snapped, and Talaitha couldn’t decide whether his slurred speech was due to his drowsiness or not. “Whatever you lost, it ain’t inside my skull. I’m tryin’ to get some sleep here.” Drew put his hands on his hips. “You, sleep past five? Since when?” That jerked Russell’s eyes open, though they seemed a bit dazed. “Guess last night wore me out.” “Or somethin’ else did. When did you change that bandage again?” “After our shower last night, of course. You’re the one who done it.” “That ain’t my bandage job.”

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Talaitha frowned as she glanced at it. Drew was right. This dressing had been applied hastily, and with four bandages instead of the two she’d watched Drew put on Russell the previous night. “Oh, right,” Russell said. “I forgot. I had to change it durin’ the night when I went in to take a leak.” “It shouldn’t have had to be bandaged at all, let alone three bandage changes and still oozin’,” Drew said. “Suppose you were right about that knife bein’ silver.” Russell tried to sit up, but swore and pressed a hand to his side. “Hurts like a son of a bitch.” Drew let out an aggravated grunt, and without warning, he yanked the bandage off. He and Talaitha both hissed at the putrid sight and smell beneath, but Russell’s indignant stream of profanity drowned them out. “Shit, Andrew! What the fuck part of ‘hurts like a son of a bitch’ did you miss?” Talaitha was too busy gawking at the ugly wound to listen to Drew’s response. “Oh, my God,” she said, her hand flying to her hot cheeks. “I am so sorry.” “This should be fuckin’ healin’, silver blade or not,” Drew said. “If it was a clean cut, that is. But there’s no doubt. It’s silver poisonin’. I’ve seen it before.” The gaping wound had seemed to deepen overnight, and yellow puss mixed with bright blood filled the depth of the gash. Angry red flesh framed the outer edges of the cut for a good inch or two all the way around. “How bad is silver poisoning?” she asked, afraid to hear the answer. “I need a better look at this wound,” he said. She stroked wet bangs off Russell’s forehead, regret pounding against her empty stomach. “Will he be okay?” “Don’t know. Not sure why the wound is festerin’ in the first place.”

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Fear hummed through her veins as Drew left the room. She tried not to keep staring in horror at the vile gash, the one that had been completely her fault. She hadn’t meant to cut him at all, let alone with a silver knife. She hadn’t known. Drew came back with an odd assortment of items that he deposited on the bed. She spotted a first aid kit, some washcloths, bottled water, a magnifying lens, and a flashlight. Without a word, he sat beside Russell and picked up a rag and the bottled water. He poured fluid into the wound, catching the overflow with one of the rags. Russell hissed in displeasure. Drew took up a rag and sighed. “You ain’t gonna like this one damn bit,” he said. “Believe me, I had other plans for this mornin’ myself.” He dipped the rag right into the wound, coming up with stinking goo. Russell screamed and tried to scoot away. “Damn it!” Russell shouted. “Take it easy.” “Hold the fuck still so I can clean this mess out. I need to see what the hell’s wrong in there.” Russell glared at him, nostrils flaring. “What’s wrong is you diggin’ around like a gold miner. If I didn’t feel like shit on a boot, I’d kick your ass.” “You’d try,” Drew said, glancing at Talaitha. “Can you hold him or somethin’?” The sheet slipped down to her waist, baring her breasts as she grabbed the man’s clammy hand. “I’m so sorry about all this, Russell. Just squeeze my hand if you need to.” “I ain’t a pussy,” he said weakly. “But you might distract me better if you brought those luscious tits of yours closer.” That protest lodged, he clamped down hard enough on her fingers when Drew went back to work that she wondered whether her bones were crushed. Pain radiated from him palpably. “Grab that flashlight and shine it here,” Drew said to her.

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She was shocked to see how deep the wound had gotten. There was no way she’d sliced him that deep. Drew bent close to the wound, holding a magnifying glass over it. He wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Stinks to high hell of silver rot. Shit.” He stared for a good while, moving the lens an inch this way, then that. “There,” he said at last. “Flecks of metal are embedded in the wound. No fuckin’ wonder.” He sat up and looked at her. “Guess the knife weren’t pure silver after all. Just enough silver plate on it to flake off and fuck him over hard.” Drew sifted through the first aid kit and came up with a pair of tweezers. “This time, you’d better hold the fuck still. Unless you want silver bits to fall into your gut cavity where I won’t find ’em before they rot out your spine.” Talaitha’s eyes flew wide, and the flashlight began to quiver. This time, she was the one with a vise grip on Russell’s hand. Drew took a deep breath, and she did the same through her mouth so she wouldn’t have to inhale the horrible smell. When he leaned over with the tweezers, though, she flinched. “Shouldn’t you sterilize those first?” “Few germs can hurt us. About the only thing that’ll keep a werewolf from accelerated healin’ is silver. These tweezers are stainless steel.” Talking ceased, and Russell held his body rigid while Drew extricated three tiny flakes of silver. He was cleaning around the wound afterward when a glance at the clock brought him up short. “Shit.” He held a rag out to her. “Think you can help with cleanup? I gotta go make a call.” He was gone before she said a word. She picked up a wet cloth and dabbed gingerly at the edges of the wound to clean away the blood. “What the hell do you suppose that was all about?” Russell asked, and she noted his voice already sounded a bit more lucid. “Who the hell is he callin’?”

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She shrugged. “Maybe he’s ordering us some breakfast. I’m starved.” Drew took longer to return this time, and when he did, his frustration was so palpable that she felt it before he was even inside the room. She seemed to be much more in tune with the men’s emotions now, but even if she weren’t, it would have been obvious from his expression that the call hadn’t gone well. He stood in the doorway naked, a muscle working in his jaw. “What’s wrong?” Talaitha asked. “I’m fucked five ways to Friday and sideways,” he said. “Damn Gypsies. No offense.” She scowled at him and crossed her arms over the sheet covering her chest. “Gee, why should that offend me, just because I happen to be a Gypsy?” “Yeah, well, your band of happy fiddlers just cost me my fuckin’ job.” Russell struggled to sit up. “You have a job?” Drew’s eyes flared with hot bits of gold. “Had. Weren’t you just listenin’?” He stormed into the room and threw open a drawer on his simple wood-veneer dresser. “I can’t believe this shit.” Drew pulled on a pair of tight underwear and all but yanked on a pair of tan jeans. “I finally got a job—a real ranch job—and that band of idiot travelin’ yokels screwed it up for me.” His glare shot through Talaitha’s chest, and even though she could see in his expression that he didn’t blame her outright, his venomous hatred toward her clan still boiled hot in her stomach. “What are you talkin’ about?” Russell asked. “What happened?” “Seems the ranch boss took exception to my little unscheduled vacation. No call, no show ain’t appreciated at the Triple W. He told me to pick up my last check and my shit.” Russell groaned and sat up straighter, leaning against the pine headboard. “Wait. You worked at a ranch? How the hell did you manage that?”

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“Not easily, I’ll tell you that. Now it’s gone.” “But how? I had to quit ranchin’ when I got turned. Animals don’t exactly take to havin’ our kind underfoot. They can sense our predatory nature.” “Don’t I know it. But I landed me a job helpin’ manage the financials. Some occasional land work thrown in when one of the hands would fall sick or such. Fence repair, shit like that. It was perfect.” He yanked on his boots and promptly used one to kick the dresser, knocking some change and personal items clattering to the floor. “Damn it all to hell.” “Can’t you get another ranch job?” Talaitha asked. His rabid stare landed on her again. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to come by that job? A werewolf ain’t exactly sorted for just any line of work, and cowboy work is at the bottom of that list. I know dyed-in-the-wool cowpokes that deliberately got themselves killed off after turnin’ shifter because they couldn’t deal with havin’ to abandon ranch life. I finally figured out how to get back in the saddle, even if a horse weren’t attached to it. Now your criminally insane gang of Romani ruined it for me.” The bubble of anger rising in her chest finally burst. “Stop talking like we’re a bunch of monsters,” she spat. “Our people have known what your kind is capable of for centuries. Don’t turn it around and make us the bad guys.” He let out an incredulous laugh. “I was mindin’ my own fuckin’ business, lady, trottin’ through a public campground on my way to a sweet huntin’ spot, and wham! Your people attacked me, caged me, and held me hostage for their own financial gain. So who the hell are you callin’ monster?” “Okay, everyone, let’s just calm down,” Russell said, before she managed to sputter a reply. “No one’s blamin’ anyone for what happened.”

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Drew’s eyes glittered with expanding flecks of gold. “Like hell I ain’t. I’m settin’ blame right where it belongs—on those bloodsuckin’ kidnappers she was so anxious to run back to last night.” Her heart pounded with mixed remorse and rage, but she tried to keep her tongue in check. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice shaking. “Maybe we can figure things out. Can’t you just explain to your ranch boss what happened? Then he’ll see it wasn’t your fault.” His laugh sounded curiously close to a bark. “Explain what? That I got kidnapped by Gypsies to be used in a side tent, werewolf freak show? Yeah, that’ll win me my job back.” He turned and headed out of the room. “Where are you goin’?” Russell asked. “Out to get my damn hat. Somethin’ else I lost on account of those bastards.” “But you might run across said bastards,” Russell said, struggling to stand up. “They’ll be out lookin’ for her, no doubt.” “They’d better hope they don’t find me first.” “I’m comin’ with you.” Drew growled. “Hell, no. You’re sick as fuck. I’ll be back in a few hours.” “Or in a few pieces, if those Gypsy assholes find you.” Talaitha’s head whipped toward Russell. “‘Gypsy assholes’?” “Present company not included.” “Those assholes are my family.” “And they captured us against our will. Are we really gonna have to have a debate over why that is, in fact, wrong?” “She don’t get it,” Drew said, staring at her with contempt. “She’s one of them. But I at least hope I can trust her not to run off on you while you’re mendin’.” The about-face from the man who had made love to her the night before—and had just tried to again that morning—was astonishing to her.

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“Fuck you,” she spit out. It was the first time she’d ever used that epithet, and it literally left a sour taste on her tongue. Not as bitter as the sting of his words, however. He snorted. “Don’t let me catch you followin’ me,” he said to Russell. “That’s an alpha order.” Russell rolled his eyes, and Drew headed from the room, muttering almost under his breath. “Bravi’os khul. Dili chors.” Talaitha’s jaw fell wide at the venomous stream of insults as he stomped off, and it was still hanging open when they heard the cabin door bang shut soon after. “What the hell was all that?” Russell asked. She shook her head. “Romani. He was speaking Romani.” “He was? What did he say?” “Nothing at all pleasant about my clan.” A wayward thought struck, one that had tried to form when she’d been in the throes of orgasmic delight. “He said something last night, too. He told me to look at him. I didn’t even realize at the time he was saying it in Romani.” “He speaks Gypsy? Where do you suppose he picked that up?” She kept staring at the vacant bedroom doorway. “I don’t know. But it seems pretty strange that he’d use it, considering how much he obviously hates Roms.” With a sigh, she turned back to Russ and noted with no small relief that his color seemed to be returning to normal, as did his unfocused gaze. “How are you feeling?” “Better already. Healin’s already started.” Still, he settled himself down until he was flat on his back again. “Did Gypsies ever tell you about the surefire method of curin’ an injured werewolf?” She wriggled around to face him straight on, sitting naked and cross-legged beside him. “No. What’s the cure?” “You are.” The fire igniting in his eyes sparked a not-unpleasant quiver in her stomach. “What do you mean?”

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“You know what I mean.” A twitch and steady rise along his groin was noticeable from the corner of her eye. She shook her head. “We can’t. You’re hurt. Besides, if that would have fixed you, last night should have cured you up through the next three stabbings.” “And I intend to stab back.” He grabbed at the cock that had lengthened in record time. “Only I think you’ll find my blade a lot more pleasurable.” He reached for the sheet she held to her front, but she scooted back on the mattress. “You need rest.” “There are three things a were needs when he’s been in a bad scrap, and rest definitely ain’t one of ’em.” He yanked the sheet away and let out a throaty growl as her exposed breasts jiggled with the movement. When he tried to roll onto his side to face her, however, he winced and rolled back. “See?” she chided. “You’re in no shape to do anything but rest.” “That so? Go into Drew’s bathroom and bring me his hairbrush and the baby oil.” She arched a brow at him. “Don’t tell me grooming is one of a werewolf’s surefire cures?” “You’ll see.” With a sigh, she self-consciously slid out of bed and reached for the skirt she’d flung over a rocking chair in the corner. “Uh-uh,” he said. “No clothes.” As she left the tiny bedroom, he gave a low whistle. “Damn if that ain’t the sweetest ass I ever saw. She felt her cheeks flush, which the mirror confirmed when she entered the pine bathroom. It also confirmed that she looked like a wreck. She stayed in there a few minutes to do her business and borrow Drew’s mouthwash. After washing her face and using said hairbrush on the mass of tangles her long, thick hair had become, she returned to the bedroom.

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“Thought you fell in there for a minute,” Russell said. He was flat on his back again, stretched out invitingly with his hands folded behind his head and his cock erect and lying up along his belly. She could feel his eyes devouring every inch of her as she sauntered naked to the side of the bed, and his cock twitched at the sight of her. He took the brush and oil from her and peered oddly at the brush handle. “Perfect. Yeah, this’ll do fine.” His eyes found hers, and she noticed his had begun a slow, golden burn. “Now get back here on this bed.” While rounding the foot of the bed, she saw him drop the brush and oil on the mattress beside him and take hold of his stiff dick. “You know, you about drove me full-on to crazy yesterday when you were suckin’ Drew off. I’m dyin’ to feel those pouty lips slide over my cock.” Her pulse sped, warming her blood at the thought of tasting his thick shaft. When she climbed back into bed and tried to lean over his groin, however, he stopped her. “Not like that,” he said. “Get on your hands and knees and turn around.” To her puzzled look, he added, “Straddle my face while you’re blowin’ me and I’ll return the favor. It’s called a sixty-nine.” Confusion turned to wide-eyed shock. Here she’d felt so thoroughly naughty, getting sex education from a romance book. Yet most of what her cowboys wanted from her had been conveniently left off those pages. Semi-shaky limbs made her motions awkward as she silently complied until she was on all fours over him. Her long waves hung down on his hard, red cock, and when she moved her head, he let out a gentle hiss. “That sexy hair of yours feels unbelievable brushin’ over my balls,” he said. “Does it?” With a wicked smile, Talaitha deliberately swept her hair slowly over his throbbing erection as she pushed it out of the way. Her

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stomach lit like a campfire at knowing her actions pleased him. Sexual power wasn’t something she’d ever wanted or thought she would use. Now, she was eager to see just how much of it she could wield. His hands ran along the fronts of her thighs. “Your cunt is so pink and sweet-lookin’. Can’t wait to taste it.” The tip of his cock glistened with clear fluid, and she licked her lips and bent down to taste him. Just like Drew’s, Russell’s dick was musky, salty, and warm, with a texture unlike anything else she could describe. Without hesitation this time, she plunged the head into her mouth. Being, in effect, upside down made the angle a bit harder to navigate, but she managed to find an immediate rhythm that sent a shocked cry out of Russell and moisture from between her legs. His fingers dove through her pussy curls to find and rub the hard button of her clit, and the pleasant throb redoubled her sucking motions on his cock. She felt him grow more rigid as she slid his shaft back and forth over her tongue. “Fuck, your mouth is enough to drive me insane,” Russell said with some effort. “Whether I’m watchin’ it or feelin’ it. Lower your ass a bit, darlin’. I have to have some of that sweet cream.” The first flick of his tongue hit dead center on her clit, and she sucked in a breath. Wet, hot licks and nips followed in rapid succession, turning her pleasant throb into a full-blown ache. Her hips began a gentle rocking, pushing herself harder against his mouth. Little whimpers escaped her mouth around his pulsing cock. Now his hands roamed the backs of her thighs, landing on her ass and squeezing. His tongue worked maddeningly along her slit, diving inside her cunt while spreading her ass cheeks wide. She moaned in pleasure when his wet tongue jabbed deep inside her. “You taste like fuckin’ heaven,” he ground out huskily against her cunt lips.

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She’d been so intent on trying to divide her attention between her mouth and his tongue that she hadn’t realized his hands had gone temporarily missing. Then she felt something hard pushing against her tight anus. “Oh!” she gasped, stiffening instantly. She halted her motions and pulled her hips away. With a gruff growl, he slapped at her ass cheek. “Don’t you dare stop, you hot Gypsy. Trust me, you will fuckin’ love this.” There was some momentary trepidation when she felt the hard knob against her ass again. Drew’s cock had felt like heaven in there, but what was Russell doing? Whatever was probing her tight hole felt slick on the end and was practically demanding entrance. Then she glanced down at the bed and saw the bottle of oil resting by itself. Her eyes went wide as she realized what must be pushed a short way inside of her ass. “Now relax against it,” Russell said. “You aren’t serious?” she managed to get out, before the handle plunged the rest of the way in. She tensed instinctively, but moaned when he began to work the hard wood back and forth. It definitely felt different from hot, throbbing cock, but there was no denying that it was almost every bit as pleasurable. Then Russell’s tongue began its relentless attack on her clit again, and she revised the opinion of pleasurable to unbelievably erotic. She returned her mouth to his cock, mimicking his actions with the brush. His whole body stiffened beneath her, and when orgasm drew closer and her moans came in repeated bursts, he slapped her ass hard enough to sting, bringing a gasp from her. “You like that, don’t you, darlin’?” He delivered another slap to her ass, which at the moment she found oddly arousing. “And I ain’t even finished yet.”

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One more slap and heat bloomed over her ass cheek, but then the fingers that weren’t busy driving the brush handle into her slid inside her dripping cunt. “I can sense how hot I’m makin’ you,” he said. The feel of his fingers working into her sent a loud enough cry from her to prompt a brief pause in her sucking. “Mates can feel each other’s strong emotions, you know. I’ll bet Drew is gettin’ quite the memo from us right now.” “More,” she breathed. “Harder.” He shoved his fingers deep inside her, and she wriggled herself to press her clit against his tongue. Pressure built inside of her, threatening to blow her world sky high. His fingers pulled out for another smack on her ass, leaving her slick juices behind before plunging inside of her again. “Which do you want?” he asked, pulling out for another slap and dipping inside again. “My fingers spankin’ your hot ass, or slidin’ inside that tight, wet cunt?” She could barely think, let alone respond. Her entire body was clenching now, sweat prickling from nearly every pore. The next slap came harder. “Which?” “Both,” she finally managed. “I want it all.” He laughed. “My mate is a hot, greedy wench. Thank the heavens. Hope I can keep up with you.” The brush handle sank deep in her ass, and he left it there while using his hands to slap her ass and finger fuck her. She fisted the base of his cock with one hand and sucked him for all she was worth. She wanted to bring him release before her climax hit, but the constant stimulation from his tongue and hands proved too much. She threw her head back and cried out, groping and working his cock with her hand while waves of orgasm shuddered through her. He tensed and came moments later, shouting as jets of hot cum hit the breasts jiggling beneath her. By the time they were through, her ass cheeks

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were on fire and throbbing, and her cunt spasmed for several long minutes after she collapsed beside him. He stroked her hair while they lay there, panting and slick with sweat. To her amazement, all she could think of was climbing on the cock that had gone half limp but was still twitching. “I never thought sex would be like this,” she said after some time had passed. “I was always so panicked about letting a man touch me. Now, well, I think I quite like it.” His sexy laugh nearly prompted her to show him just how much she liked it. “Sex for a were’s mate can’t never be the same with any other man,” he said, lightly stroking her cheek. “They have an instinctive aversion to any partner other than the one they were destined for.” She felt her cheeks burn. “But what about Drew? I mean, we seem compatible, too.” “That’s different. He and I are bonded, just like you are bonded to me now. Your sexual pull to pack mates will be the same as it is to me. Well, almost.” He winced as he leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Still, we shouldn’t have,” she said with a bit of selfrecrimination. She should show better restraint where her newly awakened urges were concerned. His health was at stake. “I’m sorry.” “I ain’t sorry. Sex aids healin’ for my kind. I can tell the wound is already on the mend. Itches like a mother.” Still, he lay back down with a heavy sigh. “But I confess you done wore me out a touch.” She had to admit she was feeling a bit exhausted herself. She nestled her head on his shoulder and reached down to lace her fingers in his. Her limbs and eyelids grew pleasantly heavy. “Talaitha?” “Yes?” “I’m glad you stayed. After the way we snatched you up, I didn’t blame you for tryin’ to run off.” A smile touched her lips and stayed there, even when her eyes fluttered closed.

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Chapter Seven Urgent words and a less-than-gentle tug on her shoulder brought Talaitha around later. This time, Russell was the one doing the waking. “Open your eyes, darlin’.” As always, the velvet sex of his voice flowed over her like honey, but there was a sharp edge to it that cut into the erotic dream she’d just been having about him and Drew. “I have to go,” Russell went on. “Go?” That snapped her eyes open, where she found Russell standing by her side of the bed, fully dressed. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. “What do you mean? Go where?” “Drew never came back.” She looked around the room. “Well, he probably had quite a ways to go find where his clothes were, right?” “It’s still been too long.” A glance at the red-curtained window was dim enough to see that morning had come and gone—and most of the afternoon with it. He went to a small closet and poked around. She noticed his movements were tentative, and when he reached for a pair of Drew’s boots, he hesitated and bent over slowly. She swung her bare legs over the side of the bed and got up. “He ordered you not to follow him. And you’re still injured.” Frustration poured off of him palpably. “I’m mendin’ fine. And if he needs my help, he’ll get over me goin’ after him.” He dropped the boots in front of the rocking chair and made a face while he sat himself gingerly down on it.

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“How can you go after him if you can barely walk? Besides, are you sure something’s wrong? Wouldn’t you sense it if he were in trouble? You said mates feel each other’s strong emotion.” He pulled on a boot. “I would sense it. So would you.” Her eyes widened at that. Then she realized he was right. That was why she could feel Russell’s urgency, the near touch of fear around him. But she felt nothing from Drew. “Then he must be fine. I don’t sense anything.” He grunted. “Unless he’s too cocky and stubborn to believe he’s in any danger, even if it’s nippin’ at his heels.” He glanced at her. “Or he’s deliberately blockin’ his emotions so I won’t come after him.” “Can he do that?” “It can be done, but it ain’t easy. I sure as hell can’t control my feelin’s that way, and I ain’t been with Drew long enough to get a full grip on the way his twisted mind works.” He stood up, towering even more with Drew’s boots on. Talaitha found her clothes and pulled on her skirt. “Then I’m coming with you.” “Hell no, you ain’t. It’s too dangerous.” “You’re hurt. What if you keel over on the way?” “I told you, I’m fine.” He took hold of her arm, barring her from getting her blouse over her head. “And it’ll be much faster if I go on my own. You wouldn’t be able to keep up, and I’m sure you can understand why I’d rather not carry you this time.” “Either you’re fine, or you’re still hurt too bad to carry me. Which is it?” She pulled away from him and finished getting dressed. “I might be able to help. I’m not completely helpless, you know. I have my magic. You saw how I handled that hunter woman.” It just wouldn’t work on her clan, if they were even the ones responsible for Drew’s absence. But she didn’t mention that fact. He sighed. “My brave little Gypsy. It ain’t that I don’t appreciate your offer, but the answer is no. Don’t argue with me on this.” He

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bent to kiss the top of her head, and with a little groan, moved to claim her lips briefly. “Stay here and wait for me. I won’t be long.” Her lips were still tingling when he left the room. He was out the door and out of sight before she knew it. Maybe he was feeling better, after all. For a brief moment, she considered going after him. There was no way she’d catch up, though, even if she did know which way he’d gone. All she could do now was wait and hope everything was all right. Turning from the window, she closed her eyes and tried to sense him. He was there, all right, out in the woods with waves of worry and determination tumbling around him. What now? Maybe she should at least get cleaned up. Stripping off the garments she’d barely put on, she headed for the shower and turned it on lukewarm. The men liked the water blazing hot, too scalding for her taste. Living a traveling life as she did, tepid was what she was accustomed to. It wasn’t until after she was dressed again and nibbling beef jerky scrounged from Drew’s sparse kitchen that realization hit her like a speeding train. What on earth was she doing? She couldn’t stay, not even another minute. By now the clan would be spread out in force, searching for her, and yet here she sat, all nice and showered and taking in a leisurely meal. Guilt made the next bite of chewy beef even tougher to swallow, and it would probably serve her right if she choked on it. She hastily searched the cabin until she found matches, paper, and a pen. She scratched out a simple note and headed into the waning afternoon. She may have lost some of her bearings, but she had seen one landmark for certain. That’s where she needed to go. Daylight was perilously dim by the time she reached the highway. She had to hurry if she wanted to use the clan’s signal to let them know her location. Then she could wait for them to find her, rather than the impossible task of trying to make her own way back.

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Another wave of guilt washed over her at the knowledge that they had surely been scouring the mountain searching for her. She would have to tell her father the truth—she was leaving the clan. It was clear to her now that she would not be leaving Shay Falls with them. Fate had seen to that. As it turned out, she didn’t have to bother with the signal. She was walking along the shoulder of the highway, searching for some stray wood, when a familiar, beat-up red pickup bounded along the winding road. She waved her arms to flag it down, though her Gypsy attire probably caught his attention before her flailing motion. Relief flooded her when the truck veered off the road, kicking up a cloud of dust around her as it stopped. “Vanje,” she said through the open window. “I’m so glad I found you. I was just about to make the signal smoke.” He started to say something, but his eyes hooded over. Before she knew what had happened, the dramatic sight of a shotgun pointed her way froze her in place. “What are you doing?” she asked, taking a step forward. He aimed the gun straight at her. “Stay right there. I know what you are, Talaitha. And you’re not getting in this truck.” “What are you talking about?” “You’re one of them now, don’t try to deny it. I see the bite mark.” She glanced at her shoulder, and she saw that he misread the guilty look she shot back at him. He clenched his jaw and lowered his head to sight along the barrel, which was quivering slightly. “That isn’t what you think it is,” she said. “I’m not a werewolf.” “Don’t take me for a fool. You were seen being carried off by those vile creatures, and now you have the bite wounds.” She leaned closer. “Look at my eyes, Vanje. If I were one of them, I couldn’t lie about it even if I tried. My eyes would give me away.” He hesitated, but met her gaze. His dark eyes churned with anger and uncertainty, but as she watched, they softened into acceptance.

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The gun barrel lowered. “It’s true, then. Your eyes don’t have the yellow stain.” He heaved a sigh. “Forgive me. I spent so much time since you went missing thinking the worst that I assumed it must have happened.” She sighed in relief and approached the truck. “It’s all right. I’m sorry I caused you worry.” Before she could reach for the handle, Vanje had vaulted out of his seat and rounded the front to pull the door open for her. He had a noticeable limp leftover from their first encounter with Drew, but besides the rings of shadow beneath his eyes and a stubbled jaw, he was the same Vanje. Features smoothly carved, rugged hands that managed to appear delicate and capable at the same time, and dark eyes that normally held a merry twinkle regarding her from beneath a mop of curly black hair. Beneath the long sleeves of his shirt, she pictured the web of scars he bore from years of working with animals they encountered in the wild. He caught hold of her arm before she could duck inside the truck cab. “Are you well, Tal? Truly?” She nodded, unprepared when he pulled her against him in a tight embrace. He smelled of campfire and strongly of male sweat. He hadn’t bathed in at least one day, possibly more. “The entire clan has been searching and praying in shifts. We’ve all been frantic, none more so than your father and me. It means more than you know that I am the one to find you.” She felt him nuzzling her hair and heard him inhale deeply. This was more than the actions of a man who was grateful for the return of his clan member. Perhaps Nadya had been right about Vanje’s interest in her, after all. She stiffened, and her reaction seemed to make him remember himself. When he pulled back, his already dark brown eyes had gone even darker. “I’m glad you are safe,” he said in a thick voice. “I should call the camp and take you to Zakono.”

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Few among her clan owned cellular phones, but those who had gone out looking borrowed from others so they could call in progress to those waiting in the camp. Vanje dialed as they drove and gave the news in excited Romani. “They are recalling the others,” he said after he hung up. “There is much rejoicing that you are unharmed.” Even as he said the words, however, she saw him slide a sidelong glance at her shoulder. She resisted the urge to tug the elastic up and cover the marks. The air inside the truck grew heavy with questions she could tell were hovering around him, questions she realized she didn’t want to answer. Evening was barely cresting the top of the mountain when they turned into the campground where many anxious faces waited. Nadya raced up and grabbed her tightly, not unlike Vanje had done by the roadside. “Devlesa araklam tume, Talaitha. Thank the heavens. We thought you were lost.” She smiled at the woman and glanced around, not seeing one expected face. “Is my father here?” “He was out leading the main search party when the call came in,” said Kovack, one of the older men. “They are on the way back.” The words were barely out when a commotion sounded from the other side of the camp. “Where is she?” She knew it was her father before she saw him, and the moment she heard him, she pulled her still-damp braid over the front of her shoulder, hiding the mark. “Talaitha!” Her father’s rapid stride broadened into a near run when he caught sight of her. “Thank the heavens, child. Are you well?” “I’m fine, Papa.” He reached out, but when she lifted her hand toward him, he bypassed her and took hold of Vanje’s instead. “You have my eternal thanks for finding her. You are a hero twice over since we have arrived.”

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“Hardly a hero. I was more a victim in our first encounter. And Talaitha found me, more or less. She was right along the roadside.” “No matter. You are a hero to our people still.” Her father gave his hand a firm shake, then released it and shifted his gaze to her. “How did you make your escape? Where were you taken? We will go there immediately and end these foul creatures for daring to threaten you.” She shook her head. “They weren’t holding me prisoner. I left of my own accord. And they never harmed me.” “That’s not true,” Vanje said, hands on his hips. “She has been injured. I saw the marks myself.” Her father’s eyes narrowed. “Marks? What sort of marks?” “It’s nothing,” she said, taking an unconscious step back. He strode forward, and despite the fact that Vanje had not yet answered, her father pulled her hair aside and glared straight at her shoulder. Several gasps sounded from the group. “It doesn’t hurt,” she said. “It was…an accident.” “She has been bitten!” Kovack said. “She is a night monster now.” “We have no choice but to destroy her.” The speaker was Marko, who had come up behind Vanje and looked more smug than distraught at the suggestion. She swallowed at the hard stares fastened on her from every direction. “No,” her father said. “She was not bitten. She was marked.” “Marked?” Vanje asked, clearly puzzled. “What does that mean?” Her father’s silence was almost more disturbing than his response when it finally came. “She is worse than a creature of night. She is their whore.” His hand came up, and he struck her hard on the cheek. As her head snapped around with a gasp, she covered her hot, stinging flesh with a hand and flashed on a fleeting memory of the night Yoska had hit her. That strike had been because she’d refused to give herself to a man. This one was because she finally had.

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Vanje scowled. “What are you talking about? It’s obvious these creatures attacked her, just as they did me.” “It is nothing like they did to you at all,” Zakono said, spitting the words in Talaitha’s direction. “Yours was the sacrifice of a hero. She has given her body fully and willingly to those foul animals.” Every eye around her was bugged wide, save her father’s. His were narrowed into slits. “How could you do it?” he went on. “You went before the kris rather than submit to your rightful husband. Now you throw yourself away on a pair of murderous dogs?” His face had gone red, and he raised his hand to strike her again. She recoiled, but Vanje stepped in front of her father. “Don’t. So sit ando shoro?” he asked, aghast. “She is your daughter.” “And I am Rom barò,” Zakono bellowed. “Your leader. Do not presume to tell me how to handle a traitor to our clan.” Vanje turned to her. “Tell him it isn’t true. Tell him he’s made a horrible mistake. I know you. You would never do the things he is saying.” She swallowed and glanced at him, and she knew he could see the truth in her eyes. There was nothing more she could say. A visible shudder went through him, and he shut his eyes for a moment. “It can’t be. You wouldn’t have escaped them. You wouldn’t have flagged me down and come back with me.” Each word grew louder and more insistent. “I had to come back,” she said, facing her father. “It was not by my choice that I was taken from here, that’s true. I know you all were worried and that you would search for me. I had to return and let you know I was all right. But I also have to let you know I have discovered my life path, and it is no longer as part of this clan. I am destined to be with them. I always have been.” Startled whispers were exchanged. Vanje stared at her as though she had fallen from outer space. Marko curled his lip in disgust.

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“No,” her father said. “You are not destined to be with those evil creatures. Not you. Not after all I have been through because of their kind.” “I’m sorry, Papa. I never meant for this to happen.” “And so it shan’t.” He moved closer to her. “I have heard that if a were-dog’s mate experiences powerful enough feelings, the other mate can sense it. It would be most unfortunate if you failed to suppress your emotions right now. I would have your sorely misguided rikonos killed immediately if they were to try and come to your aid.” She gazed at him quizzically but never had a chance to ask. He nodded to Marko, who had come up behind Vanje. “Take her.” Marko was on her in a flash, and one of the others joined in when she began bucking and jerking to try and pull out of his strong grasp. “What are you doing? Take your hands off me at once.” “Keep yourself calm, child,” Zakono said, “or your lovers’ heads are as good as severed.” “What will you do with her?” Vanje asked, echoing her thoughts. “I will not be father to a ming bedako who consorts with devil dogs.” Troublesome cunt? Her mouth fell open at such public vulgarity. Never had her father spoken such, especially not about his own family. “This is for her own good, Vanje. Do not interfere.” “Where do you want her?” Marko’s voice sounded almost eager. “Put her in the cage.” Her father’s expression made him almost unrecognizable. Not to mention his actions. “Then pack up. We leave immediately.”

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Chapter Eight “I’m here, Talaitha. I’ve come for you.” Drew’s voice prompted a smile on Talaitha’s sleeping face. She knew full well it was only a dream, one of many she had happily succumbed to in the days since her clan had fled from the mountain. In sleep she found happy, if not imaginary, times in her mates’ arms. Her favorite dream was the one where they would find her, despite the hundreds of miles that had passed beneath the caravan’s wheels, and make love to her while she was still trapped inside the cage. Yes, sleep was far preferable these days. There, she found happy smiles and searing touches. When she awakened, her constant companions were ripples of rage and anguish from the distant wolves, not to mention her own anger, betrayal and desperation. “Come on, darlin’,” came the soothing voice again. A warm hand grasped her shoulder, and her skin tingled beneath his touch. She reached up to pull the hand down to her waiting breasts, arching her back with a moan as the nipple peaked. Heat and need pooled low in her pelvis. “Jesus, woman.” His voice was a tense, yet sultry whisper. “Here I’m tryin’ to keep my thoughts off how hot you look in that cage while I’m savin’ you, and you start writhin’ around like you want me to fuck you right now.” “I do,” she said, her voice strangely real and loud in her ears. “That’s all I’ve wanted ever since I left. You and Russell inside me again. And again.” “Happy to see you, too, but can I at least get you out of there first? Tal, honey, open your eyes. We don’t have much time.”

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The voice penetrated the thick fog in her head, but she shook it. “I don’t want to. The dream will end, and you’ll be gone.” “It’s no dream. I’m here, darlin’. She’li’.” I swear. With a start, her eyes popped open. Drew knelt outside the cage, staring down at her with wildly pulsing gold trying to push out the blue in his sorely missed gaze. She blinked hard. “I’m not dreaming? You’re here?” His smile shot straight through her. “In the flesh. And tryin’ to set you free.” He frowned and glanced at the lock on the cage door. “Don’t suppose that key is handy somewhere close?” Shock and relief poured through her, and she sat up to clutch at the bars. “Drew! I can’t believe it’s you. I thought for certain I was dreaming again.” His hands closed over hers around the bars. “Must have been some dream.” He leaned closer, and her heart began pounding like crazy when his lips touched hers. “Now, let’s get you out of this, and I can hear more about that dream later.” She licked her lips, tasting the intoxicating maleness his kiss left behind. “How did you get here?” “We’ve been trackin’ you.” “You followed us all the way on foot? We’ve barely stopped for days!” “In my truck. But let’s save explanations for later. The key?” Folding her legs beneath her, she smoothed her dirtied, torn skirt and shook her head. “Father carries it with him. There’s no way out.” She glanced around the clearing where the cage sat. Wherever they were, the location was nothing like the lush campground the clan had abandoned. This was a bare step up from a dirt lot in a dry, hot desert. “Where’s Russell?” she asked. “He better be where I told him, for once,” he said, pulling off a weathered brown Stetson and wiping a forearm across his sweaty brow. He may not have ridden up on a horse to save her, but he

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looked every part the cowboy hero, with hat and boots coupled with a thin, white T-shirt and blessedly tight denims. The shirt stretched across his muscled chest, and though escape was foremost on her mind, Talaitha couldn’t help but feel the remnants of her dream arousal stir at the sight of him. He stood up and brushed off his jeans as he eyed the large lock. “I was in such a damn hurry to chase after you that I left my tools behind. The lock ain’t enchanted, but magic won’t work. I already tried it before I woke you up.” Her brow shot up. “Magic? What do you know of magic?” He ignored her and bent to where her face was pressed close to the bars. He pushed his hat up enough so he could brush her lips with his, unleashing a fierce stab of lust that was compounded by her ability to feel his own. “I’ll be back. I trust you won’t run off on me this time while I’m gone.” Time might have been of the essence, but she couldn’t fight off her blatant curiosity as he turned to leave. “Mishto hom me dikava tute,” she said. He stiffened and shot a look over his shoulder. His mouth was open to reply, but then he snapped it shut and started off again. Undaunted, she pressed on. “Ne rakesa tu Romanes?” Can you not speak Romany? Then, in English, “I know you can. I’ve heard you.” He sighed and spun around, looking oddly defeated as he nodded. “Hai. Rake Romanes.” He paused. “Though I haven’t in a long time. I guess you must bring it out in me.” “How do you know so much about my kind? You never did say.” “We kinda got bigger bulls to herd at the moment.” “Just tell me.” He rolled his eyes. “I was born into a Gypsy clan, back in the old country.” She did a double take. “You?”

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His eyes narrowed. “Don’t look at me that way. My mother was Romani. But my father was both a gadje and a one-night stand. You can imagine how fond the clan was of me.” “A blue-eyed Gypsy,” she murmured in awe. “I’ve never seen one.” He snorted. “Yeah, I was a freak long before I became a werewolf.” She frowned. “I didn’t mean it like that.” “That’s what my mother’s clan thought of me. I got sick of their close-minded bullshit and ran far and fast once I was old enough.” “I can’t believe it,” was all she could think to say. An unexpected grin cracked his narrow scowl. “Kind of ironic, me tearin’ full speed away from Romani and runnin’ smack into a Gypsy mate.” He glanced around. “Now can I please go get my tools so I can bust you out of there?” She didn’t get a chance to answer because a scuffling sound nearby alerted them to approaching footsteps. She sucked in a gasp. “Someone’s coming.” “I’ll take care of ’em.” “No! Please, no trouble. Just go get the tools and wait until the coast is clear.” His jaw clenched, but he gave a curt nod and disappeared behind a tangle of scrub brush. He’d no sooner gone than Vanje appeared, carrying a bowl and a container of water. “Vanje,” she said, trying to keep the nervous tension from her tone. “I’m surprised to see you. You haven’t been around since we left Shay Falls.” He slid the bowl and water through the bars without looking at her. “Marko and Tomas are busy setting up camp. I was sent to bring you lunch.” The scent of rice and vegetables hit her nostrils, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. “So we’ll be staying here a while, then?”

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“Not for long. Zakono thinks your animals can still follow us.” Little did he know how quickly. She swallowed. “And you? Do you honestly think wolves can pursue a caravan across multiple states?” That brought a narrowed glance her way. “Don’t get your hopes up. We won’t be staying in any one place for long.” “Do we ever? We’re Gypsies.” He shrugged. “How are you?” She snorted. “How do you think I’m doing? I’m locked in a cage and let out only twice a day to relieve myself—with Marko standing nearby, practically watching.” A shadow crossed Vanje’s features. “It’s for your own good, Talaitha. We don’t want you getting hurt.” “Words parroted nicely from my father’s mouth. But what part of imprisoning me against my will strikes you as either good or not hurting me?” He scowled. “You shouldn’t be with them. It isn’t natural.” “No, it’s fate.” She took hold of the bars. “You have to know that this is wrong, Vanje. I’m not a criminal.” He folded his arms, still refusing to look at her. “I admit I have my own thoughts about your father’s approach on this. But he is our leader. It is not my place to question him.” “So don’t question. Just help me.” He shook his head and stared at the ground. “Look at me, Vanje. Vanje? Dik mandi.” That finally brought his eyes her way, and she saw the uncertainty clouding the dark irises. They didn’t speak for a moment, her pleading gaze holding his. “Let me go,” she said. He heaved a sigh. “I asked your father for your hand when you were declared vuzhyardò after the failed marriage to Yoska.” Her mouth fell open. “You did?” “He said I wasn’t ready for marriage. Said he wanted me to make a man’s mark on this clan to prove I could handle the daughter of

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Zakono Koppel. I thought for sure he considered that time had come when he called me a hero for finding you. Then I discovered I was too late yet again to vie for your affections.” A pang coursed through her at the tone of remorse. “I had no affection for Yoska. I’ve always cared for you, Vanje. You’ve never been anything but kind. You are a good and decent man, one any woman would be fortunate to call husband.” He stepped closer, sliding his hands over hers as they gripped the bars just as Drew had done earlier. “Would you be such a woman, Talaitha? Could the love of a humble lom burn thoughts of those dark creatures from your memory?” She was acutely aware of the foreign feel of his rough, cool skin, but his touch lacked the urgent tingle of Russell’s or Drew’s. Nevertheless, she did experience a strong jolt at the contact by way of a surge of boiling irritation coming from the direction of the nearby brush. It was Drew’s, and it was unpleasant. He was jealous. With a kind smile, she dropped her hands away. “I’m sorry, but there is nothing on heaven or earth that could change the way I feel.” She saw his Adam’s apple bob. “You have known them for such a brief time. How can you feel so strongly?” “I can’t explain it. I know it sounds impossible, but it’s real. And more powerful than anything I’ve ever felt. They may only have showed up a short time ago, but I’ve known that Russell would come for me for many years. I’ve dreamed of him since I was a girl.” She felt the tension ease from Drew, though Vanje’s expression tightened. “Please, Vanje. Do this for me. Give me the only chance I’ll ever have to find happiness.” He slid a hand into his vest pocket and pulled out the key. “Thank you,” she said, getting to her feet. “I’ll be forever grateful for your kindness.”

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He grunted as he stuck the key in the lock. “I fear that your gratitude will not be enough to spare me when my treachery to your father is discovered.” “And you would be right,” Zakono said, coming out from behind one of the nearby trailers. She and Vanje whipped toward him. Marko and two of the others surrounded her father, who wore a look of mixed triumph and disdain as he approached. Vanje yanked the key away from the cage, and her father held out his hand. “You are the last man I would suspect of crossing me,” he said. “I am very disappointed in you, Vanje. I consider you a son, and was planning to grant your request to wed my daughter. Instead, you join with her in conspiring against me.” The key dropped in his outstretched hand. “I only wish for her happiness. I love her.” “Not enough to fight for her, obviously. You would give her to dogs. You are less than worthy. Bipachivalò.” “It doesn’t matter who tries to fight for me,” she said through the bars. “Or how worthy you deem them. I will never want any man other than my mates.” His eyes narrowed. “Is that so?” He nodded to Tomas, who held the rifle she’d seen in Vanje’s truck. He pointed it at Vanje and motioned him away. “Take him to the fire circle and watch him.” Zakono moved forward, and to her surprise used the key to unlock the cage. “I would speak to my daughter alone. Bring her out and bind her to the cage. Then leave us. You know my further orders.” Marko was rougher than necessary when he pulled her out of the cage. A rope circled her waist, cinching her to the outside of the bars. Yet she was more fearful for Vanje as he disappeared into the camp, still at the point of a gun. “What will they do to him?” she insisted, her heart pounding. She couldn’t let him face punishment because of her. “It wasn’t his fault. I

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appealed to him knowing how he felt about me. He only did it in hopes I might change my mind about him.” “Don’t lie to me.” Her father’s face darkened. “I have been listening in since shortly after he arrived to deliver your food. I suspected he might give in to his soft spot for you, you see. But as I told Yoska, a man is no man if he cannot master his urges and do what needs to be done.” “Vanje was doing what needs to be done. You can’t keep me prisoner forever, Father. And I won’t change my mind about the men I love, not ever. I will never submit to another.” “Such bold words for a woman who has tasted the delights of a man’s touch.” “Enough to know I will never want again.” “Even years after your mates fail to reclaim you?” He moved closer with a mocking smile. “You will go wanting, sooner or later.” Waves of seething anger from her mates washed over her palpably but were largely drowned out by her own. She shook her head. “You’re wrong.” “No, I’m not. Eventually, human nature will win, and you will give in to your burning need. Your mother did.” She blinked. “What do you mean?” “Your mother was like you. She, too, fell under the dangerous thrall of night creatures, believing she was destined to be theirs.” “What are you talking about?” “That lie about fate is merely part of their supernatural power, child. It is a magic that holds you false, because it is the only way their kind can snare females. No woman would ever agree to become the consort of evil otherwise.” She gaped at him in shock. “I don’t believe you. My mother was not a werewolf’s mate.” “Do you not remember the mark she bore on her shoulder? The one she told you was a birthmark? It bore a startling resemblance to the one you now own, did it not?”

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She glanced at the now-faded tooth marks, recalling the pair of faded pink divots near her mother’s neck. They were almost identical. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp. “Why?” “She was deceived, same as you.” Talaitha folded her arms. “I mean, why did she marry you if she was bonded to werewolves?” How could it be? If she’d belonged to a mate the way Talaitha did, surely she never would have betrayed them to run off with another man? Then a cold, hard thought hit, and it yanked on the stomach already squeezed by the unrelenting rope. “The wolf you killed the night you found Mother wasn’t just a random animal you were saving her from, was it? It was her mate.” He stared at her for a moment, and she saw the answer there before he even said it. “Our caravan ran across the wolf by accident. The struggle was fierce, but in the end our magic and combined strength defeated the beast. That’s when I heard crying and found a woman from another Gypsy clan naked and huddled in the bushes.” She nodded, the story she’d heard before making a newly twisted, awful sense. “I always thought she’d been crying because she feared the wolf would win. But it was because you killed him.” “She was very upset at first. Fought like a wild beast when we brought her to the camp. She kept going on about another wolf, though we did not encounter it. I was proclaimed a hero by my clan and hers for saving the poor, victimized woman. Her father gave me her hand in marriage as my reward. No one knew she’d been with the beast willingly.” His tone turned to sarcasm at the end, and Talaitha frowned. “The abiav was held immediately, but my bride rejected me just as you did your Yoska. She tried to flee and return to the other mate until I convinced her I would have him hunted down and killed if she did so.”

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Talaitha’s blood ran cold. “By the Gods. You kept her a prisoner, too.” “She was prisoner only of the terrible, seductive power werewolves wield over the women they choose as mates. I knew her mind had been so corrupted that she would never let go unless she knew the cost would be the other mate’s life.” She leaned weakly against the bars. “I can’t believe she ever forgave you enough to accept you as her husband.” “She had no choice. She had to save you.” Talaitha’s head snapped up. “Me? I don’t understand.” His smile turned hard. “You had been conceived the night I found her.” “You aren’t my real father?” “No.” As her stomach roiled, threatening to empty its meager contents, pieces of her life fell into place. Zakono’s callous way of treating her, the easy disapproval, the way he would occasionally stare at her as though trying to glimpse something in her that he couldn’t find. Now it all made sense. It took three tries before she could speak. “You said she wanted to save me. From what?” “The clan, of course. Had they known what you were, you would have been destroyed.” Sick dread washed over her. “Werewolves are made, not born. I posed no threat to the clan.” “You bore the blood of darkness. Evil blood, spawned by a monster. Such tainted blood could be capable of anything.” “Just like you.” He sneered at her. “I do what I must.” She blinked at him in shock. Her real father was a werewolf. And he was dead and gone. “Why save me, then?” she asked weakly. “Why not let the clan have their way?”

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His eyes glimmered. “I loved your mother from the moment I saw her. I promised to keep your secret if she agreed to live as my wife. As we were already wed, the child was assumed mine. No one knew that we had not consummated that union.” Guilt rose in her chest, threatening to choke her. Her mother had cut herself off from the second mate to protect her child and the surviving mate as well. The second mate. She flashed on the memory of her mother leaving the women’s tent to speak to a man she seemed to know. A man who turned out to be a werewolf. Talaitha gasped. “The werewolf in our camp the eve of my wedding was her other mate,” she said. “He came back for her.” His nostrils flared. “After all I’d done for her, all I’d forgiven. I raised you as my own, never knowing for sure what kind of evil might live inside of you. She was going to tell you everything and then leave me for him.” She stared at him, horror snaking its way around her spine. “The wolf didn’t kill my mother at all. You did.” A spark fired in his gaze. “She died because she chose to give herself to vile creatures of night.” His hand went to a leather sheath on his belt, unsnapping it to slide out a bone-handle knife. “And so will you, if that is your decision.” She drew back tighter against the cage and tried to swallow down her rising panic. “I’m not even your real daughter. Why do you care who I choose as a mate?” “You have been claimed as part of this clan. You are family and a Gypsy by blood, whether or not you share that blood with me. I cannot allow a member of my clan to be taken by perverted, unnatural creatures.” “But you can murder a clan member who is also your wife? Or a daughter?” The knife came up as he walked forward. “Better a woman should die than spread her legs for demon filth.”

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A white wolf leapt forward. Drew planted himself in front of Talaitha, his neck hairs bristling and fangs bared at Zakono. The threatening growl stirred gooseflesh on her arms but seemed to have little effect on her father—or rather, the man who had killed her father. Blood ran cold in her veins at the thought. No wonder he hadn’t thought twice about putting a knife to her throat. Zakono shot the wolf a mocking smile. “Good. I’d wondered whether you’d come for her, just like the other mate tried to come for my wife. That’s all you are, of course. Just the other mate. Not the true partner.” Drew’s growl grew fiercer. The knife flashed, and Talaitha knew the glittering blade must be silver. “I’m sure you heard how it ended for Talaitha’s mother and her filthy animal lovers. It won’t go any better for you.” The wolf crouched down as if to spring, but the sounds of men calling out froze the animal in place. Zakono’s men emerged from the camp, looking very much the part of an angry mob as they bore torches and crude weapons. Marko, wielding the cattle prod and a vicious smile, came up beside Zakono. Drew began a series of growl-barks. Although he was still staring the men down, Talaitha knew he was vocalizing instructions to Russell. He must be lurking somewhere nearby. She could feel the tension coursing through both their canine bodies, stringing them as tightly as she was roped to the cage. Her joy at seeing him again battled with the terror of knowing her wolves had come to die, coalescing in her mind the fear that must have been much of her mother’s existence. “I am not fluent in wolf speak,” Zakono said. “Or have you forgotten you’re on all fours? Perhaps you cannot control the curse enough to address us as humans.” Fur pulled back into Drew’s naked, muscled form as he rose to full height, but his eyes kept their fiery, golden gleam. “Why should I

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bother to address you as a human when you have no right to call yourself one?” “Ironic, coming from a creature of night.” “And you are a murderer intent on killin’ his own daughter.” Some of the men shot questioning looks at one another. Apparently, not all of them had been listening. “I saved her from what the clan would have done had they realized she has ruv-tainted blood in her veins.” Drew scoffed. “Saved her for what? To keep her here miserable, tryin’ to force her into a marriage she didn’t want and then holdin’ her prisoner? Tell me, just who have you been punishin’ all these years? Talaitha for havin’ a werewolf father, or her mother for never lovin’ you?” Zakono’s smile faded into a snarled lip. “I hear your perverted lover was sliced up by silver during your escape. I presume that’s why he isn’t here to join us.” He flashed his own blade in front of him. “Such wounds are most slow to heal, if not fatal, aren’t they?” “Not as fatal as you’d like,” came a voice Talaitha had longed to hear outside her recent dreams—any time but now. Russell emerged from the brush with his hands in the air and Tomas’s pistol pointed at his head. He, too, was naked, and she could see that the ugly wound was nearly gone. Nothing but a thin, red line remained. His cock swung between his thighs as he stalked forward, glowing eyes darting quickly her way before fastening dangerously on Zakono. “Found this one hiding nearby, just like you said,” Tomas said to Zakono. Zakono nodded. “Good. This can end more quickly than I’d hoped.” “Thought I told you to back off and keep out of sight,” Drew said. “Well, you know how I hate to miss a good hootenanny,” Russell said. “Kill him,” Zakono said.

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“Don’t!” Talaitha shrieked, struggling against the ropes. “No, Papa.” The word came off her tongue before she could stop it. Drew still had himself sandwiched between her and Zakono, but she reached out to tug him aside. “You win, Father.” The term had a thick, unnatural feel now. He was not her father. He never had been. “I’ve changed my mind. Let them go on their way safely, and I’ll stay with the clan. I swear it.” Drew whirled on her. “Tal. No.” Zakono growled. “Such promises from your mother failed me. I won’t make that mistake again.” Without warning, he lunged for her. Drew moved to intervene, but she shoved him aside with all of her might. “Run!” she cried. Then she felt the steel of her father’s blade pressed to her throat yet again. “Move and she dies,” Zakono spat, and this time it was Drew who froze, the blue disappearing in his gaze. “Get back.” Drew’s hands rose as he stepped backward, rage and fear charging the air around him. “You should have listened to me,” Zakono whispered in her ear. “It wouldn’t have had to be this way.” Tears sprang to her eyes, threatening to drown out the sight of Drew, and over his shoulder, Russell. “They are made of the devil,” Zakono said. Then to the rest, “They are wolfkind, including Talaitha. We must end them all.” “No!” Russell shouted. The gun behind him cocked as he and Drew sprang forward, but even with their speed, she knew they would never make it before Zakono opened her throat. She shut out the sight of them as she closed her eyes. The knife slid into her flesh, spilling the first drops of hot blood. Then the loud protests around her were silenced in a deafening roar that made her eyes fly open wide. The gunshot froze everyone in place with wide, disbelieving expressions. After several long heartbeats, the knife slid away from her—as did the man who had wielded it.

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She turned to see Zakono crumpled on the ground, a black hole all that remained of one of his shrewd eyes. Her cowboys rushed to her side, Russell pressing a hand to her throat. “Jesus, Tal. He cut you.” “I’m fine,” she whispered in a half daze. Then she glanced upward to find the smoking gun quivering in Vanje’s still-aimed hand. “What have you done?” Marko barked at Vanje. “You murdered one of our own!” The gun came around to bear on Marko. “And you would have let him murder Talaitha.” Marko glared at her in contempt. “She is tainted.” “No, you are. All of you, if you would sit by and let a man slit the throat of a defenseless, tied-up woman.” Glances were exchanged. “Zakono murdered my mother and lied to cover it up,” Talaitha said. “He blamed the werewolf who died trying to save her. If you can truly condone his actions, perhaps I never knew any of you at all.” Marko’s hardened gaze wavered. “And we never knew you.” “My only crime is wanting to make my life elsewhere,” she went on. “Since when has leaving a clan become grounds for a death penalty the Romani do not even believe in?” “It isn’t,” Vanje said, lowering his weapon. “You are free to go. No one here will stop you.” Tomas scowled at him. “Since when do you speak for the clan? You are not our leader.” “Perhaps I should be if none of the rest of you plans to return to your senses.” Vanje’s dark eyes met each one of the men’s. “The only ones here who have been harmed by these wolves are me and Marko. I have no quarrel with them. It was self-defense.” His eyes shifted to Marko’s in challenge. “And you?” Marko raised the cattle prod, and Talaitha felt Drew stiffen beside her. “And when we release them and they set their fangs in someone else, the blood will be on our hands.”

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“We don’t kill humans,” Drew said. “Not ever. Which is more than I can say for your clan.” Talaitha’s gaze slid again to the man lying dead in the dirt. She’d trusted him implicitly, never knowing about his lies. He’d taken her mother’s life. And he had nearly taken hers. “Go.” It was Tomas this time, though her eyes sprang to Vanje. He came forward and picked up the knife on the ground beside Zakono. Her eyes widened for a moment, but he began slicing through her bonds. When she was free, she sighed. “Thank you.” He nodded with a small smile. “Dza devlesa,” he said. God go with you. “And with you,” she said. Their eyes held for a long moment before she turned away. Her legs were shaking as Russell and Drew took her from the clan for the second and last time. Her teeth were on edge with the fear someone would make a move to pursue, but no one did. It wasn’t until dirt had kicked up behind the tires of Drew’s dusty black truck for many miles that she understood she was truly and forever free. Her shoulders began to shake as the tears finally came.

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Chapter Nine “Now you’re absolutely, positively certain you want to do this?” Drew asked. “All things considered, I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t,” Russell said, shaking his head. “But it’s her call.” The afternoon sky was dropping into a wildly chaotic sunset as Talaitha stared at the contraption in front of them. “No, I want to do it.” Most women might find it bizarre, a cage sitting on a truck in the middle of deserted woods. Talaitha, however, had grown up around enough similar sights to feel oddly at home. She glanced at Drew. “I mean I really, really want to do it. Besides, we’re celebrating your and Russell’s new jobs.” His concerned frown warmed to a slow, sensual burn. “Fair enough. And I guarantee this will be a celebration you won’t forget.” He moved closer to her, stirring the naughty tingle in her stomach that triggered quite readily whenever her wolves were around. “But if at any time you change your mind, just say the word.” “Atch,” she said, Gypsy for stop. “I know the safety word.” She reached out and ran a hand along the smooth, black metal. This cage was quite different from the one the clan used for animal attractions. This one was taller, much narrower, and had a domed top not unlike a giant bird cage. “I know you said the bar owner owed you a favor after you helped break up that fight last week,” she said, “but do I even want to know how he happened to have one of these to loan you?”

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Drew snorted. “He owed us, all right. “We got plenty more than we bargained for when all we wanted to do was stop off for a couple drinks. The owner uses cages like this there at the strip club.” She arched a brow at it. “Why? In case the men get a little too out of line?” “No, darlin’.” Russell came up behind her, and she felt a little chill run along her arms at the feel of his breath on the back of her head. “It’s a dance cage.” Her brow rose. “Doesn’t have much room for dancing.” He chuckled. “Ladies who work at the bar dance in it. Guys like to watch.” She turned with a flirty look. “And you? Did you enjoy watching the cage dance when you were having your drinks?” He favored her with a smile. “I’ve got a few colorful tales that started off with eyein’ up exotic dancers. But that ain’t what we borrowed this for, is it?” “Isn’t it?” His hands glided sensually over her shoulders, pushing down the sleeves of her blouse until her torso was bared to the men. Her nipples hardened under their hungry stares, and she balanced herself with a hand on Drew’s chest while she shimmied out of her skirt. Once she was naked, Drew held the door open for her while she stepped inside the cage. Her legs were shaking as she positioned herself in the cage, but not out of fear of being closed in. Her body tingled with anticipation. “You’re sure you’re okay?” Drew asked. “Wasn’t that long ago you were in one of these under other circumstances.” She nodded. “And dreaming of what I wished what was really happening in it. Do it.” The door swung shut with a clang, and Drew jumped down off the bed of his new truck. The men stared up at her, their eyes smoldering. A dance cage, was it? She closed her eyes and imagined hearing strains of sultry Gypsy music around the campfires, the special tunes

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reserved for Romani ears only. Her body began to move, her hips swaying and undulating to the inner rhythm of Gypsy magic. “Holy shit,” Drew said. “I didn’t mean you had to dance, Tal.” “Shut up, you idiot,” she heard Russell say. “Let her dance. Keep goin’, darlin’. Fuck, I’ve dreamed this before. I kid you not.” Eyes still closed, she gave a smile and reached for the bars, using them to steady herself while she arched her back, thrusting her breasts through the slats and rubbing her pussy against the cold steel. She heard Drew’s distinctive growl of arousal. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve fantasized about walkin’ up to a cage dancer and fuckin’ her right through the bars?” The sound of him hopping back up on the truck bed spurred her into wilder, more frenzied motions. When her eyes opened, she found his eyes glowing wild just outside. He reached for her, cupping a handful of her breasts. She pulled away with a teasing gaze and backed up to the rear of the cage, reaching up to take hold of the bars behind her head as she made exaggerated, suggestive circles with her hips. “You are the hottest thing I ever saw,” Drew said. “You dance like you know you’re gonna get fucked righteous in there. Squirm away from me and play games all you want, baby. I’m still gonna peg you with my fat cock. But me and Russ got a little surprise for you first.” A loud, metallic slam announced Russell’s jump onto the truck bed behind her, and her heart fluttered in surprise. Still, she kept up her motions. Here she was, out in the woods dancing like a wanton bar girl for two men clearly dying to fuck her. The whole thing lit a fire inside her and set loose a warm rush of fluid from her pussy. For all the unpleasant things she’d associated with cages in recent days, she really liked this one. She liked it a whole lot. “What kind of surprise?” she whispered. “Remember I said we wouldn’t be even until you’d been naked in a cage with some guy shockin’ you through the bars?”

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That brought her eyes wide open. Drew was naked now, his reddened cock stiff and straining toward her. More important, however, was that his hands were behind his back. She swallowed hard and backed off. “Surely you aren’t hiding a cattle prod back there?” He shook his head. “Nope. Much better.” The device he pulled out brought a puzzled frown to her face. “Come closer to the bars, darlin’. I got a little somethin’ for ya.” He swung a pair of wires like a lasso. “What is it?” she asked, creeping forward and gazing at the little device attached to the wires. “Just enough of a tingle to get you really hot.” “With you two around, if I get any hotter, I might burst into flames.” He shot her a drop-dead gorgeous smile and a wink as he reached through the bars, wires in hand. The ends of the wires had flat disks on them, and he proceeded to plaster one over each of her nipples. “This is weird,” she said, staring down at herself. “It’s about to get weirder.” Drew turned a knob on the device, and she felt a tiny little prickle shoot through her breasts. “That’s the lowest setting. How’s it feel?” “I’m not sure.” Her heart began to pound harder. “More.” He twisted the dial, and the tiny prickles became tingling goose bumps. Then came an insistent flicking that hardened her nipples wonderfully. “Oh!” she gasped. “Like it?” Russell asked. In reply, she pulled her hair on top of her head and began dancing again, reveling in the feel of the electrical stimulation while she cavorted in the cage for her men. Her clit began a rhythmic throb that was well-timed to the pulses being delivered to her nipples. She reached down and began stroking her clit to ease the ache as she danced, but only succeeded in turning the dull throb into a sharp need.

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Russell’s hands came through the cage bars from behind to circle her waist and pull her backward. The attached wires tugged on her nipples, but the adhesive held. She felt the hard shaft of his cock pressing against her ass and realized that he’d stripped naked, too. “No more teasin’,” he said in her ear. “You put on a show like you’re a hot wench wantin’ to get fucked? We’re gonna call you on it.” She felt their heated lust even when she closed her eyes and ground her pelvis. Raw, animal power flooded over her from both of them, and she couldn’t wait to get them inside her. Luckily, her need was just as easily read by her mates, and Russell’s cockhead began prodding along the crack of her ass. “You ain’t the one who’s gonna stick his dick through those bars,” Drew said. He beckoned her forward with a crooked finger. “I do believe that’s my fantasy.” “Like hell,” Russell said, pressing tighter to her. She left Russell and slid forward to Drew, whose long, thickly veined shaft was already pointing through the cage straight at her. She grasped it firmly and worked him in her hand, moving her pussy closer with each rock of her hips. “Damn it, woman, stop toyin’ with us and give me that hot cunt,” Drew said in a gruff tone. With a seductive little laugh, she pushed her mound against his cock and worked the tip inside her pussy lips. Drew cried out as soon as he slid into her, almost as though she’d hurt him. But she could sense nothing but pounding, driving passion. She took him in deep, reveling in the pulsing, jerking feel of his cock in her slippery cunt. Then she pulled away, leaving his cock shiny and wet with her juices. She backed away until Russell’s cock was again between her ass cheeks. He hissed out a sharp breath and guided himself to her puckered hole. She pushed herself back, steadying herself by gripping the bars in front of her until she felt the breathstealing sensation of his shaft stretching and filling her anus. She

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shoved back until her ass cheeks were pressed to the bars, burying Russell deep. Wise to her ways now, he gripped her hips so she couldn’t leave him again and began to rock himself back and forth, fucking her fast. She gave a little cry of pleasure and gave in for a minute, feeling her breasts bounce and her ass hit the cage with each thrust. “That’s it,” Drew said, yanking the cage door open. “I can’t take this anymore.” He stalked into the cage, and she stood up to give him room. “Russell,” he said, though he was staring into her eyes, “get your tight ass in here now.” The cock disappeared from her anus, but Drew claiming her lips while he roughly squeezed her swollen breasts turned her moan of frustration into pleasure. The cage was barely enough for two buff cowboys, let alone their Gypsy plaything, but Russell managed to squeeze in. Then she was surrounded by hot, muscled flesh and her eagerness to have it filling her body once again. Russell lifted her by the waist. “Reach up and grab the bars overhead,” he said, and she took hold of the top of the cage. “Now wrap your legs around my waist,” Drew added, and as she did so, he tugged her into position. No sooner had she obeyed than he thrust his cock deep in her tight cunt, and she gripped the bars tighter as she cried out. Russell was right behind her, pressed close enough that with her supporting herself between the cage and Drew, he was able to take her from behind. “The night we met, Drew fucked my ass in a cage while you watched,” Russell said as his cock joined Drew’s way up inside her body. She moaned again, unable to speak for a moment while her body adjusted to both shafts spearing her. “I remember,” she whispered at last. Drew grunted. “I told you that night that you would wish you were on this side of the bars.”

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“I did. I admit it.” “Fuckin’ right,” he said, pulling out and jamming back in until he was bottomed out and her entire pelvis was full of throbbing cock. “Oh, my cowboys,” she said as they stood that way for a moment, her half-suspended between them, impaled on stiff cock with waves of tingling energy still bathing her nipples. “I can hardly breathe.” “Want us to stop?” Russell asked. She shook her head, gasping for air. “Don’t you dare. Fuck me, please. I want both of your cocks inside me like this forever.” The men began to move. Drew’s growls became desperate, almost violent in intensity, and she held on for dear life while he and Russell fucked her holes in close, though not perfect, synchronicity. The slight aberration in rhythm drove her insane, as did the weakening but still-tingling stimulation on her nipples. Her head fell back until she was staring up through the bars at the blazing orange-reds of a western sunset. Groans turned to inhuman growls, and urgent thrusts to feral pounding. Climax was a near thing when she felt Drew tense up. “Both of us,” he said to Russell, and she assumed he meant them coming together. Her clit throbbed with urgency, pressure ready to explode. Then her werewolves reared back and sank fangs into her, one set on each of her shoulders. The pain shot her over the top, bursting into an orgasm that had her body jerking wildly as she seized the bars, shouting in mixed English and Romani. Then the sounds of their climaxes drowned out her voice, along with the ability to think. They moved together in the cage as a writhing, frantic mass until sweat and fluids mingled and slid down their legs and torsos. Her arms burned with exhaustion, so she let go of the bars and leaned back heavily on Russell. He cradled her while Drew slowly lowered her to the cage floor. The three of them panted heavily as they clutched at one another.

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Finally, Drew snapped off the electrical unit. “Sorry. Forgot it was still on.” She shook her head. “It stopped working near the end anyway.” “Told you to use fresh batteries,” Russell said. “We’ll have to lay in a supply of rechargeables.” Drew winked at her as he gently peeled the sticky disks off her sensitive flesh. The nubs were still hard when he bared them to the early evening air. He bent to kiss her, and she felt his cock pulse against her belly with fresh interest. “Now, darlin’, we’re even.” “I think I’m ahead, actually.” She smiled at the men she was sandwiched firmly between, right where she belonged. A sense of unity swelled in her chest, one she had embraced fully since the short time she’d given herself over to fate. “A Gypsy, caged up with her cowboys,” she said. “I can’t imagine being any luckier.” “Two official cowboys again,” Russell said. “I can’t believe I’m goin’ back to ranch work after all this time.” “I told you it’s possible,” Drew said. “Hate to say it, but that bar fight was one of the luckiest things that could have happened.” He caressed Talaitha’s cheek. “Second luckiest.” “Yeah,” Russell said with a grin. “Savin’ your old ranch boss from that nasty scrabble came in mighty handy.” “You still think he won’t give you away, now that he knows your secret?” Talaitha asked. “He’s more than okay knowin’ we’ll be around should any of our kind come sniffin’ around his place on full moons. He’s lost enough of his cattle to wolves. Us savin’ him may have accidentally revealed our nature, but it also showed him a lot of us aren’t a threat to humans.” “And since he understands our special requirements,” Drew said, “he’ll make doubly sure to keep us both off animal work, no problem.”

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With some difficulty in the confined space, she reached up to brush a wayward lock of Russell’s hair out of his eyes. “Well, I’m quite proud of you both. Though I’ve personally always considered you official cowboys, working or not.” “And official cowboys, unfortunately, must rise before dawn,” Drew said, pushing open the cage door. “Let’s say we drop this cage off at the bar and head back to the cabin?” She put on a mock frown. “So soon?” She stroked the bars. “This cage and I were just getting acquainted.” Drew and Russell exchanged glances. “Maybe Paulo will let us make payments every week from our salaries. We’d have to build somethin’ to keep it in, since it won’t fit through the cabin door.” “Or maybe I can get a job, too,” she said, baiting them deliberately as she batted her eyelashes. “I can do cage dancing for you down at the club.” Drew’s eyes flashed fiery yellow. “Hell, no, you ain’t. Consider this a Gypsy-only dance ritual, for our eyes only. Russell bein’ an honorary Romani, of course.” “Besides, you got bigger plans, I believe,” Russell said. “Like gettin’ your diploma so you can start Phillips Community College in the fall.” She followed Drew from the cage, his strong hands lifting her easily down from the truck bed. “College girl, Gypsy, and exotic dancer all rolled into one,” he said. “What cowboy could ask for more?” She wriggled back into her skirt. “Oh, I hope you plan on asking for more. I’d hate to think my cowboys are too worn out from ranch work to go for a ride when they get home.” As they made the short jaunt back to the cabin, Talaitha felt a twinge of familiarity. A waft of her mother’s lilac scent crossed her nostrils, igniting a tiny, private smile. She felt as though her mother were looking down on her, offering blessing and approval.

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“I did what you said, Dya,” she whispered when Russell hopped out of the truck to join them. “Thank you.” She felt a pang of sadness that her mother had not met with the same opportunity, but a memory of the woman’s final words to her lifted her spirit even as the lilac scent drifted away. Talaitha had indeed “followed her heart”—and it had led her truly, finally home.

THE END HTTP://JROSEALLISTER.COM

ABOUT THE AUTHOR When she’s not conjuring tales of hot cowboys under a full moon, J. Rose Allister enjoys her garden, cooking, movies, and hanging out with her author husband and family in their Southern California home.

Also by J. Rose Allister PolyAmour: Kata Sutra Siren Classic: Bewitching Love Siren Allure: Sinful Ella and the Wolf Siren Classic: Holiday Bites Ménage Amour: Crystal’s Cowboys Ménage Amour: Her Full Moon Cowboys Ménage Amour: To Tame a Wild Mustang Siren Allure: Immortal Paradise 1: Suite Seduction Siren Classic: Immortal Paradise 2: Tropical Heat Siren Classic: Immortal Paradise 3: Seduced by an Angel PolyAmour: Immortal Paradise 4: Immortal Menage Ménage Amour: Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 1: Disowned Cowboys

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