Sought by the Alphas Complete Boxed Set: A Paranormal Romance Serial Page 8

  She tried to analyze her emotions in that moment: apprehension, nervousness, shyness…fear, even. But with all of them came the thrill of novelty. One new lover was always an adventure, as she’d discovered with Lachlan. But two at once might be a sensory overload. Gwynne worried that she’d die of physical pleasure. Was that even possible? Well, there were worse ways to go, she supposed.

  She stood and walked to the old chevalet mirror which sat by her dresser. Everything in her room was an antique by her standards but had clearly been brought from the twentieth century by Lachlan or another of the shifters who could pass through portals into other times. Gwynne felt a familiarity with the furnishings, and perhaps, she thought, that was why she was so able to feel at home.

  But now it was her own face that she studied in the tarnished silver of the mirror. Was she pretty? Was it even possible for a woman to look at her own reflection and answer such a question?

  She’d always liked her eyes well enough. Eyes never gained weight, after all. A decent mouth. Long hair which shone even in the dim light.

  Time and time again she’d been told that men didn’t care so much about weight, about flaws, particularly when they had a chance to be inside a woman. But somehow having two gorgeous alphas wanting her made her all the more critical of herself. Every flaw seemed amplified.

  Yet they were flawless in her mind.

  She sighed and drew her eyes away from her face. It didn’t matter, she told herself. They wanted her. And she wanted them. Whether this was a business arrangement or not, for her part it was a question of pure carnal satisfaction and soon she would uncover the joys of having two men at once. Nothing could take that away from her; no self-doubt. No worries.

  * * *

  It felt like an hour had passed before a knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Gwynne rose to open it, expecting Ygrena or one of the alphas. In that moment it struck her that she didn’t know if the ritual was to take place in her bed or somewhere else; dear God, she really wasn’t prepared for this. Shouldn’t there have been a memo or something? An instruction manual or “how to make sweet love to two shifters at once” guide?

  But when she opened the door, it was a man she’d never met who stood before her. He was tall and fit with piercingly light blue eyes, the signs of a wolf shifter, a member of the clan.

  “Who are you?” asked Gwynne, politeness taking a backseat to surprise and disappointment.

  “My name is Hallam, my lady,” he said, his voice apologetic. “I’m a member of the alphas’ guard. I’ve been told to inform you that, unfortunately, the ritual will not be taking place this evening.”

  Gwynne’s heart sank and she felt a sudden onset of worry. Had she done something wrong, or offended them in some way? Maybe the men had realized that she wasn’t the woman they thought she was—whoever that was. Or, worst of all, maybe they simply didn’t want her after all.

  “Not tonight? Why not?” she asked, overcoming her shyness in spite of an initial reluctance to learn the truth.

  “There has been an attack, my lady, and I need to get you to safety, along with the other women.”

  “Attack? Where? In the castle?”

  “Just outside its gates, my lady. A guard was seriously injured. He’s being tended by medics but the lords Rauth and Lachlan think it best to be cautious for the present. There are flyers overhead and a party has gone out on patrol to make sure the area is cleared of their kind.”

  Gwynne shuddered, recalling the attack on her and Lachlan that had been perpetrated by the shifters known as “flyers”; great eagles and hawks overhead who bombarded them with stones and occasionally swooped down to tear at flesh with razor-sharp talons. They were a terror, and they hated the wolves’ clan with a passion. Even more than that, they wanted Gwynne dead for reasons which still remained a mystery to her.

  “Are Rauth and Lachlan among the patrol members?” Now Gwynne’s worry moved to encompass her two lovers, and away from the frivolity of her own shortcomings. The thought of either man being hurt tugged at her deepest emotions. It was odd to care so much for two men she’d only known a few days, but, she was realizing, she did, in fact, have genuine feelings for them both.

  “Yes, my lady. They are leading the party.”

  “Bring me to them, Hallam.” She stood, resolute to confront any danger ahead.

  The shifter looked at her, sympathy remaining in his eyes. “I’m sorry, my lady, but I cannot. I’ve been ordered to take you down to the catacombs, and if I know nothing else, I am aware that defying my alphas is a poor move at best.”

  Gwynne knew that he meant it and, worse still, that he was right. She couldn’t ask him to defy his lords. They’d have his head.

  “Fine,” she said, defeated by common sense. “Wait a moment in the hall while I change my clothes, then you can take me down to the other women. We may as well all be in this together.”

  When Hallam had shut the door Gwynne disrobed then grabbed a thick cloak from the nearby wardrobe and covered herself, lamenting the waste of her freshly cleansed body and beautiful dress. But surely the ritual would occur as soon as things had calmed. The two alphas seemed to think it best to get to it sooner rather than later, and her raging hormones agreed with them.

  The young wolf shifter escorted her down the hallway. Ahead in the distance Gwynne could see other women being led to a narrow passageway lit by candles and torches, which opened into a spiral staircase made of stone: the entrance to the castle’s catacombs.

  She followed Hallam down, a cool draft hitting her as they went. Something about the place felt ominous, as though finding shelter there were a last resort.

  At the base of the stairs a long corridor-like room stretched before them, filled with what looked like a few hundred women. No doubt they were the courtesans who lived in the castle and who served the wolves.

  Hallam turned to Gwynne. “Will you be all right, my lady?” he asked, a flickering torch lighting his face.

  “Of course. You go do what you need to. But before you leave, help me find my maidservant Ygrena—do you know her?”

  With that, even in the dim light, Gwynne saw Hallam’s facial expression change. A shallow smile came across his lips and his eyes seemed to take on an almost mischievous glint for the first time, reminding her of her alphas.

  “I do, my lady,” he said. “She’s on the other side of the room. Come, I’ll bring you to her.”

  Hallam escorted Gwynne through a thick mess of female forms, all scrambling to find comfortable places to stand or sit, all worried about what might be going on above them. When they saw Gwynne approach they opened up a path to let her pass. Though she hadn’t met each of them individually it was clear that they knew her face, and she recalled the paintings of the Lady Gwendolyn. No doubt these women had seen similar portraits over the years.

  For the first time she was beginning to feel like a high-ranking official, though she’d done nothing to earn the honour.

  * * *

  Ygrena’s face seemed to take on the same expression as Hallam’s as he and Gwynne approached. So this is the young shifter she loves, thought Gwynne, feeling new affection for her servant. Interesting.

  “Good evening, my lady,” Ygrena said, momentarily pretending to ignore the large man at her mistress’s side.

  “Hello there. I take it you know Hallam…?”

  “Yes, I do. A little. Good evening, Hallam.” Ygrena curtsied slightly in formal greeting.

  “Greetings, lady Ygrena.”

  So, thought Gwynne, he calls her lady. It was a sure sign of respect and admiration, particularly when used to address a courtesan.

  “Are you…you two…going to be all right?” Hallam reluctantly turned his gaze back to Gwynne as he asked the question.

  “Yes, thank you,” said Gwynne.

  “Thank you,” echoed Ygrena as Hallam nodded and turned away.

  Gwynne eyed her servant, a coy grin on her face.

  “So, he’s pretty sp
ecial, isn’t he?” she asked, her tone decidedly modern. Dignity in the moment seemed like a waste of an opportunity to gossip and take their minds off what was happening in the sky above the castle. In that moment, Gwynne wanted nothing more than to forget the danger that her two alphas were confronting.

  “I…don’t know what you mean,” said Ygrena, who wasn’t a good enough actress to hide her feelings. For all of her sexual experience she always struck Gwynne as young and naïve; unaccustomed to the notion of love as opposed to physical pleasure.

  “No, of course not. Only I think you find him pretty attractive. And who can blame you?”

  “Well, I’ll admit that he’s not like the others,” said Ygrena, leading her mistress to a corner where she’d reserved a stone slab for them to sit on. In the faint light Gwynne could see that they were surrounded by what looked like human and wolf skulls, stacked tidily in horizontal rows along the walls.

  “So these are the catacombs,” she said. “A little creepy, but nothing a few curtains and some mood lighting couldn’t fix. Maybe some wigs for these skulls would spruce the place up, too.”

  “My lady?”

  “Nothing,” said Gwynne, missing her own time and place and the morbid sense of humour that sometimes acted as a survival mechanism for her. “So tell me how Hallam is different from the others. I genuinely want to know.”

  “I suppose it’s that he respects me. Me! A lowly nothing, a courtesan. He knows what I do yet he treats me like a lady. You saw.”

  “I did. And he does, clearly. He seems sweet. And Ygrena, you’re not nothing. Never tell yourself that you are.”

  “Thank you, my lady. And he is sweet, yes.” Ygrena spoke quietly as though attempting to keep the news from the other ladies present.

  “You should spend some time with him, you know. Get to know each other.”

  “I do…spend time. But not enough. And for most of it we don’t speak,” Ygrena said. She looked away as though to hide the surge of blood to her cheeks.

  “My goodness, girl. You’re blushing. I never thought I’d see that from a woman who’s double-teamed men on more than one occasion.”

  “Double-teamed?”

  “Forget it,” laughed Gwynne. “I’m just envious. My own evening of passion has been somewhat waylaid by the attack outside. Those fucking flyers.”

  “I’m sorry, my lady. I know that you were excited.”

  “I was. I am. It’ll still happen. I’m just worried about the alphas. I know they’re strong, but I’ve seen what Kapral and his buddies can do with those talons of theirs.”

  “They’ll be all right,” said Ygrena. “Their best fighters are with them. Even Bree.”

  “Is she now?” said Gwynne. “Interesting.”

  She recalled the large female shifter from the previous night’s dinner, particularly the look of icy hatred she’d thrown at the alphas’ chosen mate, accusing her of being a mere human, a nobody. Gwynne wondered how she could prove otherwise, but perhaps Bree had been right. After all, it was the shifter who was out fighting for the pack while Gwynne cowered with a horde of other women, helpless in what amounted to a drafty basement.

  “Bree is very loyal to the alphas and to the pack,” said Ygrena, her usual diplomatic tone covering anything that might resemble a true opinion.

  “I have no doubt. Loyal enough to despise me.”

  “I don’t think she despises you, my lady.” The servant leaned in to speak more softly with each sentence. “She’s not the easiest woman. Her trust is earned the hard way.”

  “Well, if someone could explain to me what the hard way is, I’d really appreciate it. It bothers me, for some reason, that she seems to be hell bent on letting the world know how little she thinks of me. I’ve never done a thing to her, other than be chosen by her alphas. But I suppose that’s enough for the one female shifter in the place. I can’t really say that I blame her. I might hate me too.”

  “One day soon she’ll grown to love you as we all do, my lady,” said Ygrena. “You’ll see.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  With that, a dull thud broke the sound of a multitude of whispering female voices, and Gwynne told herself that she was only imagining feeling the earth shake beneath her feet.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, my lady.”

  Gwynne rose and headed to the staircase. The other women allowed her to pass again, clinging to one another in horror. Whatever was happening above, Gwynne was certain that it wasn’t good news.

  When she reached the top of the stairs she was met by two large shifter guards.

  “What’s happening?” she asked.

  “Please go back down below,” said one of the guards.

  “Not until you let me know what’s going on.”

  “The castle Dundurn is under attack by flyers launching stones, my lady,” said the guard. “It’s going to be a long night.”

  * * *

  Rituals 2

  The guard who’d been wounded in the afternoon had been attacked by a flyer, that much was sure. And though he was barely conscious when evening rolled in, the medic had told the two heads of the clan that he was expected to make at least a partial recovery.

  “His wounds are consistent with the talons of an eagle,” the doctor said as he and Lachlan headed to the castle’s front gate through the courtyard. Rauth was already just beyond the castle’s outer perimeter, organizing the wolf shifters into a patrol.

  “Do we know who perpetrated the attack?” asked Lachlan.

  “It was a large bird; probably one of the leaders.”

  Lachlan recalled his and Gwynne’s run-in with the eagle shifter Kapral, which seemed now like months in the past. They’d barely made it through the portal to Dundurn alive, and so he knew that the flyers were nothing if not serious fighters. Scars on his back were further evidence of it. Fortunately, thanks to his cunning, Gwynne had remained unscathed. Smooth and beautiful.

  “We’ll see to it that the area is cleared of enemies,” he said, solemnity permeating his tone. “The archers are on high alert and the larger wolves are down below, including Rauth. Doctor, you head back inside where it’s safe and keep an eye on things, would you?” He put a protective hand on the medic’s shoulder. This man, this mere human, would never survive an attack by a flyer. Not like he had done. Not like Gwynne had done.

  “Are you ready, cousin?” asked Rauth, who was waiting for Lachlan by the gate, strapping on chain mail.

  “Of course. But why the armor?” asked Lachlan, walking towards him. “Your wolf form is better suited to defense than any mail.”

  Rauth looked over at him and grinned, his white teeth shining in the fading light of evening. “I like to give the bastards a target to focus on,” he said. “There’s nothing like shiny metal to draw the eye of a stupid bird.”

  “Always the daredevil,” laughed Lachlan. “One of these days it’ll backfire on you, you know.”

  “You and your modern talk,” said Rauth. “Backfire sounds like something involving flatulence and a torch. Hardly useful in battle, though possibly a good distraction technique.”

  “You’re an infant,” said his co-alpha, who knew his own words to be true in part. Rauth was a boy in many ways. But when it came to leadership, to war, and even to sex, he was a man among men. A wolf who steered his minions straight into battle yet clear of danger, and whose judgment was impeccable, at least for the most part. He knew how to delegate authority, how to battle with few casualties, and how to pick a mate.

  It was only a pity, thought Lachlan, that he and his co-alpha hadn’t been able to keep their date for tonight’s ritual, to be with Gwynne at last. For God’s sake, how many centuries did a man have to travel through before he could finally satisfy himself?

  It wasn’t even so much a question of satisfaction as one of desire. Unfulfilled longing that had clung to him like a residue that he hadn’t been able to wash off since the days he’d spent so lon
g ago with the Lady Gwendolyn. And here she was, in the same body. The same face. That same delicious scent that made his cock go hard through no fault of her own. He wanted her with every cell in his being, and he’d been so close to finding his way inside her.

  Damn it.

  But his mind was wandering, and that showed weakness unbefitting an alpha. Lachlan shut her from his mind as best he could and scanned his surroundings. Above him, he could see a few dark winged silhouettes against the sky, circling like famished vultures as they assessed the situation below. Rauth was right to pull them down; otherwise they could bombard the castle’s battlements with large stones as they’d done in their pursuit of Gwynne.

  “Come with me,” Rauth said, turning to his co-leader when he’d finished putting on his gear. “I’ll stay in the open for now. I need you to shift, to be my eyes. Watch out for any changes above, any plunging birds. And let out a howl if you need to give warning.”

  “I will,” said Lachlan. “But don’t do anything stupid, cousin.”

  “I probably will,” grinned Rauth.

  Lachlan laughed quietly, ripped his tunic off and peeled away his pants before transforming into the great dire wolf form that he missed at times. The freedom of running on four legs, the speed and balance of his animal form made his human one seem purposeless at times—except when it came to sex. Nothing was as great a pleasure as that of the human flesh in those moments.

  He’d held back so often, resisting the desire to be with courtesans who made themselves readily available. Lachlan knew that the young women who provided company for the male shifters found him interesting, intriguing, even. But there had, for years, been only one woman he wanted, and now she sat underground, sharing the catacombs with hundreds of human women. Such a waste.

  “Stop it, man,” he told himself. Even in his wolf form he thought of her; so deeply had she inscribed herself on his soul. It would be easier once he’d experienced her fully.