Lycan Lust Read online

  Lycan Lust

  Copyright © July 2010, S. K. Yule

  Cover art by Anastasia Rabiyah © July 2010

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious or used fictitiously. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

  ISBN: 978-1-936279-35-7

  Amira Press, LLC

  Baltimore, MD 21216

  www.amirapress.com

  Chapter One

  Her scent faintly called to him, lulling him into a precarious state that teetered between domination and fascination. There was no doubt that she was his, but every time he’d closed in on her the past several weeks, she’d disappeared as if some magical force had removed every trace of her from the Earth. But, within a few days, he’d once again catch the sweet aroma of her, and then he’d continue on a trail that he would relentlessly follow until the day he found her or his heart stopped.

  A pickup pulled out of a parallel spot in front of him just as he slowed down. He maneuvered easily into the spot that had a sign beside it that said one-hour parking. He smirked at the sign as he started down the sidewalk. Another parking ticket was probably going to be waiting for him when he got back. He’d just add it to the pile he had already racked up.

  He had to find her. One could argue that he had no right to claim her, that she deserved to choose her mate, that she had the right to reject him. He disagreed. The simple truth was, she was his, and he was hers. This fact was dictated by Fate Herself, and as far as he was concerned, no force in Heaven or Hell could alter the silent decree that had been imbedded in him since birth.

  He’d been part of a pack that had considered a woman—especially one’s destined mate—property to be owned and commanded. He’d believed that himself at one time. But, now, he’d been alone for so many years, had longed for his mate for so long, a deeper desire culled from desperation made him yearn for more, need more. He wanted his mate to love him. He wanted her to respect him, fill his life with joy as he protected and cared for her. He wanted more than chattel he could order around.

  The pack would ridicule him for such thoughts. Hell, the last few years he’d been with them, they’d ridiculed him about everything. He was just thankful that he’d been smart enough and had still held enough compassion that he’d understood their behavior to be a nasty side effect of the restlessness, an unease that gnawed at them all from the inside, and would never cease until they’d found their mate. He’d grown tired of their childish behavior and refusal to accept what could not immediately be changed. Then, one day, he had simply walked away.

  He’d realized he’d never needed them. But he needed her. A woman whose name and face was unknown to him, a woman whose simple presence in his life could bring him peace and happiness like he’d never known. He would find her. He’d never give up. And when he did locate her, he’d take her far away, and she’d learn to love him, because if she didn’t, he’d be subjected to a lifelong existence of emptiness. That he could not tolerate. He would rather die than spend hundreds of years with a black void in his chest where his heart once beat.

  He took a deep breath. Her scent summoned him as effectively as a Siren’s call that he had no choice but to follow. She was close, closer than she’d ever been. He looked around. He hated the city. And Atlanta was one of the most smothering ones he’d been in while searching for her. He loathed the confinement, the stale air, and the ceaseless crush of thousands of bodies. He needed fresh, clean air and miles of wooded land. Seclusion . . . and a mate. And he had the perfect place tucked away in Michigan just waiting to welcome the return of him and his woman.

  He walked down the sidewalk, past law offices, bakeries, clothes shops, and about a million other stores that carried anything and everything anyone could possibly want or need. As much as he hated the milling crowd, he had to admit the aroma of food coming from the various restaurants smelled tantalizing. He was hungry, but he refused to veer even an inch from the path her scent was leading him down. There would be plenty of time for eating after he found her.

  His heart started thumping faster. He was getting closer. The thought of finally seeing his mate tensed his muscles in anxious excitement. Day was fading to dusk rapidly, and the sky was tinted pink by the setting sun. Tomorrow when the sun set, he’d be with her. He’d wondered millions of times what her name was, wished with everything inside him that he’d at least known that one small detail about her. A name he could whisper from his lips, a name that could linger in his mind as a promise of the life he would one day have—a life that would no longer be lonely.

  Suddenly, fear beat through him. She was on the move again. He gritted his teeth and hurried his steps. He would not lose her this time. He followed her scent around a corner and caught a glimpse of pale hair as it disappeared through the side door of the back of one of the many buildings. He stood in front of the door and looked up. It was obviously an apartment building. Four stories of wrought iron fire escape stairs led all the way to the top, stopping at various places on each level.

  If she had gone in there—he sniffed at the door, and she had—he’d have no problem pinpointing her location in the building. The sun sank into darkness seconds before he stepped through the door. The drab entryway consisted of little other than a wall of mailboxes labeled with a number for each tenant and a staircase. A door to the right was chained and padlocked. Taking the steps two at a time, he paused at the second floor. A long hallway ran from right to left, and across a small landing was another set of stairs that led to the third floor.

  He smelled the air and followed the scent straight up the next staircase, and the next. On the fourth floor, he paused. With his eyes closed, he took a deep breath and turned left. He continued walking and sniffing the air until he made it to the end of the hall. Eyes now open, he stood in front of an old brown door. Paint was chipping off it in various places, and dents littered its ugly surface. The number four nineteen was tacked haphazardly toward the top middle, with the four hanging precariously sideways, threatening to plummet to the floor at any moment.

  He laid his palms against the cool metal, and let his forehead rest momentarily between them. She was in there. As emotions bubbled to the surface, he fought the absurd urge to rip the ragged door from its hinges; stomp in, caveman style; throw her over his shoulder; and claim her as his own. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that he’d undoubtedly scare the shit out of her.

  He took a deep breath, stepped back, and raised his fist to knock. Before his knuckles met metal, a loud bang followed by a cry sounded from inside. Without any thought other than to protect his mate, he kicked the door open. Greeting him from the open window over the fire escape was the most luscious ass he’d ever seen, encased in black jeans. It took him a moment to recover his good senses enough to realize she was trying to escape.

  She was hanging half out the window, and the chair lying on its side had obviously provided the loud bang he’d heard when it had fallen. In only a couple long strides, he stood directly behind her as she wiggled, trying to escape. He growled low in his throat, and his cock twitched at the site of her bent over in front of him. He circled her waist with his hands, his fingers not far from touching around its tiny circumference. She squealed and fought harder to get out of the window.

  He easily dragged her back into the grungy apartment. She spun toward him, her eyes sparked with fear and probably anger. The crystal-clear gray color stole his breath and his good sense, because he didn’t even notice when she swung at him. She caught him in the nose, and the pain brought him back to reality with ease. She crouched, her hands clenched into fists, as she danced on the balls of her feet in classic boxer style. Holding her arms close in what he a
ssumed was protection of her body and face, she kicked at him. Luckily, his wits had returned by that time, and he dodged a kick aimed at his balls.

  Her pale blonde hair danced about her shoulders with each graceful bounce, and he ached to hold her close, just to feel the warmth of her body pressed against his. He held his hands up in a surrender pose. “Easy. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Yeah, sure.” She spat the words at him. “That’s what they’ve all said.”

  Had someone tried to hurt her? Who were they all? He eased back, and she watched his every move, until his calves bumped against the front of a chair that was probably the twin to the one she’d used for her attempted escape. He sat down slowly and rested his elbows on his thighs, palms up.

  “I swear, I’m not here to hurt you.” Her body language told him with certainty that she didn’t believe him.

  “Get out,” she said through gritted teeth.

  He shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

  “Yes, you can. Go. Now!”

  He shook his head again. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

  She visibly tensed again. He knew she was going to run for it, but he couldn’t let her go. Not now, not ever again. She spun away from him with a stealthy grace that impressed him, but he was faster. As she dove for the window, he launched from the chair, tackled her at the waist, and tucked his body around her as they rolled to the floor, protecting her from the brunt of the fall. She cried out, and she fought with a tenacity that was admirable.

  He flipped her under him and pinned her to the floor with his bigger frame. She struggled until exhaustion finally took some of the fight from her. Her eyes were wide, clear, and intelligent. She was afraid of him, and he hated that, but he’d make it right.

  “Hey. I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Brent Falls. I’ve been searching for you for a very long time. And I promise you, I will not harm you.”

  He barely held back a groan at the feel of her underneath him. He was hot, hard, and very ready to claim her. He fought for control and kept the turmoil boiling inside him from hardening his features. He didn’t want to do anything that would appear threatening to her.

  “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

  Chapter Two

  Rindy stared up at the man who pinned her to the dirty floor of the apartment she’d recently rented. She knew from the moment she’d set eyes on him that he was one of the bastards that had been chasing her for years. She’d never believed in monsters, had a wonderful, carefree, loving childhood, until the day they came . . . werewolves. She would have never believed they existed had she not seen them with her own eyes.

  They’d come after her when she was just seventeen years old. They’d told her they were going to protect her and that she had an important role to play in their pack. But the words had barely left their mouths when they had attacked her family. They’d killed her mother and sister. She’d tried so hard to fight, to save them, but she’d been powerless against them. They’d been so strong, and her against three monsters had been no match. It had been hopeless.

  Rindy remembered every detail of that night. The way her sister had begged for her life, the way her mother had pleaded for them to take her and spare her girls. And the way her mother had caught one of the bastards off guard and stabbed him with a kitchen knife. He’d smiled a smile that had sent chills down her back and had pulled the knife from his shoulder, sending it clattering to the tiled floor, right before his features contorted and hair had burst through every pore in his skin.

  Rindy had stared in horror at the big wolf who’d been a man moments before, wondering if she had been dreaming. The beast had swung its head toward her slowly, settling his eerie blue eyes on her seconds before he’d taken her mother’s neck between his jaws and bitten down. She’d never forget the sickening sound of bones breaking as she fled the house.

  She’d run so fast, so hard. Still, she’d never thought she’d get away. Fortunately for her, there had been a bus stop half a mile from her house. And God had obviously not intended for her to die that day as there had been a bus at the stop, just readying to pull away. She’d made it without a second to spare and had seen the men running after the bus as it picked up speed and finally left them behind.

  Since that day ten years ago, she’d been running. She had never stayed in one place for more than a few months. She’d felt them following her. She’d never allow them to catch her again. That was the one thing she owed her mother and sister. Their deaths had been her survival, and she wouldn’t ever throw away the precious gift they’d given her. Yet, again, she was imprisoned by her worst nightmare.

  “What do you bastards want with me? Haven’t you done enough already?”

  He was an extremely good-looking man, not that that mattered. Most of them had been. Such thick, brown hair, dark chocolate eyes, and golden skin seemed such a waste on a monster. Would he kill her? Would he rape her? She swallowed hard. She had to find a way to escape. She fought the panic threatening to overtake her.

  “I don’t understand. I haven’t done anything.” His brows furrowed, and he frowned.

  She snorted. “You’ve been following me for years. I’ve been on the run since I was seventeen years old because of you bastards, and you say you haven’t done anything.”

  He frowned harder.

  She laughed. “Yeah, I know exactly what you are. You’re a werewolf, and you’re a monster and a killer.”

  “How do you know what I am?” His eyes turned darker, and his cheeks burned red.

  She figured the blush was from anger because she couldn’t imagine his kind ever being embarrassed. But what was he angry about? She was the one being held down like an animal.

  She raised her chin. “Because your kind killed my mother and sister, most likely would have done the same to me, had I not escaped.”

  “Your mother and sister were killed by werewolves?”

  She nodded and pushed her face toward him in defiance. “I hate you. Now get off me!”

  She tried to buck him off but grunted in frustration when she realized he was just too damn heavy. Why couldn’t she have been tall with some meat on her bones? Instead, she had to be barely five foot and a hundred pounds. And though she’d taken extensive self-defense classes and karate, she wasn’t a fool to believe she’d be a true match for a man of his size and strength. She’d only hoped her training would provide her enough of an edge to get away if she had to. Even that wasn’t looking promising at the moment. She took a deep breath and blew it out in agitation.

  “I did not hurt your family. And I’m sorry it happened. But I assure you it had nothing to do with me.” He ran a finger down her cheek.

  She shivered as his warm skin made contact. It was nice to be touched in a comforting manner. It had been so long since she’d had a hug or any kind of affection she’d nearly forgotten how nice it could be. Are you insane? How could she possibly enjoy anything from this man?

  She looked deep into his eyes and found herself wanting to believe him, yet that small part of her that had been terrified for years, cautious about everyone and everything, wouldn’t allow it. “Get off me, and get out!”

  He sighed. “I told you already, I cannot leave. Not without you.”

  “I’m not going with you anywhere.”

  “What is your name?”

  “Wh-what? You are asking me my name?”

  He nodded and gave a lopsided grin that showed straight, white teeth. “Yes. Please tell me.”

  She thought about spitting in his face, or telling him to go to hell, or both, but instead, her lips spoke before she had time to stop the words from tumbling out. “Rindy Trenton.”

  Why had she told him that? What the hell was wrong with her? He’d followed her, broken into her apartment, and was holding her prisoner on the floor. And she’d told him her name. Smart, Rindy, smart.

  “Rindy. I like it. It suits you.” He sat up, his thighs pressing against her sides snugly, s
till holding her firmly to the floor. “Now, if I let you up, do you promise to be good?” He rubbed at his nose.

  Good. She wished she’d broken it but knew she hadn’t as it wasn’t swollen or even bleeding. She’d have to work more on her technique. “I will never promise to be good.”

  He laughed. “That’s my girl.”

  He got up and held a hand out to help her. She glared at him and got to her feet on her own. “And I’m not your girl, nor will I ever be.”

  He scowled, and she couldn’t help but wonder if that had been hurt she’d seen for a fleeting moment in his murky eyes. Why would her never being his girl have any impact on him emotionally? They were strangers, and that’s what they would stay. She didn’t want to have anything to do with him. Werewolves were supposed to be made-up, not something from a nightmare that came true.

  She’d known immediately he was one. She didn’t know how exactly, but ever since her first encounter with the beasts, she’d been able to tell when one was near. She’d chalked it up to her God-given instincts. And hers had never failed to warn her of danger. The caution bells had practically been cracking they’d been going off so hard when Brent had grabbed her. Yet she did have to admit that while the mere thought of being within one hundred feet of a werewolf again was enough to send her into panic, his presence was more annoying than anything.

  He’d frightened her when he’d yanked her in from the window, but he hadn’t tried to hurt her, even when she’d busted his nose. It seemed out of character from her experiences with his kind. She’d come across a few since the initial attack, and all of them had been quite aggressive. She’d done a decent job of evading them . . . until now. Why had they been following her her entire life? Now’s the perfect time to find out, Rindy.

  “Why have you been chasing after me for the past ten years?” She leaned against the wall and watched him warily.

  “I haven’t been chasing you for the past ten years. I’ve been trying to find you for the past several weeks.” He took a breath “Or my entire life.”