Forbidden Union: A Paranormal Romance (Harem of The Mindslayer Book 3) Read online

  No, I shake my entire body as I look at Arianna, who is the epitome of Wolveskin perfection. Desire and respect and kinship travel between me and Arianna. We share several litters of cubs. I did not know what I missed in a bound-mate until Meela arrived. The connection with Meela was immediate and fierce, as though I didn’t know what I missed until what I needed arrived.

  Meela is my forever mate.

  Arianna leaps from Wolf Mount. Her silver coat glistens in the moonlight as though she’s made of mercury. Smooth and stealth, in an instant she is by my side. Her snout brushes against mine.

  Arousal courses through my beast.

  A vision of Meela in the arms of Sarkany flashes through my mind. Heat rages through me. Arianna is in season. I can take her. She would have me. Longing courses through me. Our past matings have been playful and rough, as befits two Alphas creating litters together to fulfill the necessity of their pack.

  My King, Arianna thinks. She turns in a circle letting her scent waft around us both. Our Betas and sentries fall back to a respectable distance, giving us the privacy that we may want and need. They too smell the scent of their Alpha female and know that should we be left alone together, so that we may yet again fulfill the requirement that the Alphas breed and create pups to keep the pack vibrant and healthy and alive.

  My snouts sucks in her scent. Arianna is intoxicating. She glances over her shoulder at me, an invitation that I might take her. She waits for me to mount. I step forward, my snout lowering and sniffing her scent. The visual of Meela beneath Sarkany enters my mind. I send a thought to Meela—from my beast.

  King Rex, she responds through our mind-link, but it is a low moan…as though…as though she is with another.

  Her response slices my heart.

  I lift my snout and howl at the moon. I am the King of the Wolveskin, and I may take all that I wish.

  Arianna waits. I step forward. The muscles in my flank tighten. I raise up. I stop. My front paws land in the snow.

  Arianna tilts her head to the side. Her Wolveskin eyes peer at me. My King? You seem… distracted. She turns and nuzzles my snout. I shake my body and back away from Arianna.

  You smell of…human? she thinks. More than one, but a female…she arouses you?

  When you return to the lair, I think, we have much to discuss. We have guests. Meela has arrived.

  Meela? The human that your father bound you to?

  Yes.

  She doesn’t growl, but she need not. I smell the Alpha response. Her hackles rise.

  She is under my protection, I think. Is that clear? No harm is to come to her or any of her entourage.

  As you command, my King, Arianna says, and turns away from me. She gathers her Beta and sentries. I think you’ll discover that no human may be trusted whether half-Wolveskin or not. But I gather that is your lesson to learn. We shall see you when we return to the lair. Arianna and her three females disappear into the night.

  I follow their scents as they bound through the forest until they’re gone. Arianna’s words stay with me…I’ve not ever found a human to trust. Is Wolveskin blood enough to overcome the innate selfishness that the human heart holds?

  We shall see.

  Chapter Three

  Meela

  A fire in the hearth warms my bedroom chamber. Sarkany’s room is beside mine. Desire pulses through my sex. Will my fated-mate come to me tonight? I close my eyes. We have mated but a few times, and I want him again. Until last night, I feared that he was dead.

  My little bird, may I come to you tonight? Sarkany’s thought comes to me through our mind-link.

  Oh, my Prince, please, I think to Sarkany. Desire pulses through our connection. I long for Sarkany’s flesh. My desire wets the space between my legs. To be touched by him, to be held, and kissed. I’ve wanted you so many times since you were away.

  Sarkany’s giant frame fills the doorway. The fire casts a golden hue over his naked flesh. His cock long, hard, and thick. My sex tightens. He enters my room. His warrior’s body moves through my room with grace. The muscles of his ass flexing and tightening with each step.

  I press one hand to my sex and touch my nub. My other fingers pluck at my tight nipple. My heart beats as fast as a hummingbird.

  Sarkany stops at the end of my bed. A mountain of well-muscled flesh. His cock engorged. His eyes lock to me.

  My body is on fire.

  He yanks the blankets from my body. I’m naked before him. My hips roll up and back as his gaze rakes over me. My legs fall open so that he may see my wet and glistening flesh.

  How, my Prince, without even touching me do you give me so much pleasure? I think. Slowly I slide my hand from my sex and rise. I stand before this giant of a man. I press the palm of my hand to his chest. His cock nestles between us. Beneath his chest muscles, his heart pounds out an eternal rhythm that calls to me and further wets my sex.

  I missed you so, I think.

  He tilts his head toward me. On his chest, above his heart, is the Roya Warrior mark. He is leader of the Warriors Guild for all the Roya Kingdom. I trace the symbol with my fingertip. I swallow. I want him so much. My breath comes in short pants and Sarkany has yet to touch me.

  “My little bird, it was thoughts of you and me together that kept me from losing my mind while I was chained beneath the Palace.” He presses his fingertips beneath my chin and tilts my head up. I gaze into his eyes. He does not kiss me. He slides one finger between the lips of my sex.

  “Oh, my Prince,” I moan out.

  Ah, my little bird is wet for me, Sarkany thinks. She wants me so.

  He circles my clit with his fingertip ever so slowly. Pleasure rolls through me. I grasp the giant bicep muscle of his arm. My knees weaken. My head drops back. Sarkany wraps his arm around my waist, he leans forward and sucks my tight nipple into his mouth.

  Heat. Desire. Want.

  I grasp his hair with my hand. He sucks and pulls my flesh.

  “Oh yes, oh yes,” I moan out.

  His finger circles my clit.

  My pretty little bird, I shall fuck you until dawn, he thinks. I shall make you scream my name. I shall mark you, for you are my fated-mate.

  Oh my Goddess, yes, yes, I think. He pulls his finger form my clit and slides it deep into my sex, and my hips roll forward and back. I grasp his giant cock. My hands slide up and down the smooth, silky skin of his sex.

  Please, oh my Sarkany, please, I want you.

  He releases my nipple from his mouth. His gaze locks with mine and fire is in his eyes. He grasps my legs and lifts me. One arm around my waist and another beneath my buttocks. He places me in the center of my bed. His mouth is on mine.

  Hunger pulses through us both. His tongue twines around mine. He pulls away from my lips. My legs fall open, ready for his giant cock. Wanting him inside me. My hips roll up and back beneath the weight of his gaze.

  You…you make me so wet. I can barely stand to wait for you, I think

  A smile curves over his face. “You are wet and ready for me, my little bird. What an invitation.” He glances at my glistening sex, and again my hips roll up toward him. “Your perfect tight pussy. So perfect.” He slides a fingertip over my engorged nub. “I think I shall make you wait a bit longer for my cock.” He bends down toward my legs and settles his face between my open thighs. A wicked smile plays on his lips and I know what comes for me.

  Pleasure. Pleasure from his mouth. An orgasm nears simply thinking of his lips sucking my clit.

  Your scent, Meela, it intoxicates me. How you glisten for me, he thinks. He places a gentle kiss on the lips of my sex, just beside my clit that wants only his ministrations.

  Please, my Prince, please, I beg, wanting his lips to suck me, his tongue to lick me, wanting the sweet release of his mouth on my sex.

  A rumble of a laugh.

  For you, my pretty bird, anything. Sarkany leans forward and his mouth latches to my sex. He sucks my clit deep between his lips, and his tongue tickles and stroke
s. My hips buck upward. Fire explodes in my brain.

  He teases and caresses my clit. He slides two fingers deep into my sex.

  My prince! I scream in my mind.

  He witnesses my shattering through our mind-link.

  Oh, my little Meela, so much pleasure with your orgasm. He rolls his tongue once more over my clit and my entire body trembles.

  He lifts his face; his lips shine with juice from my sex. He crawls up and over my body and his lips press to mine.

  Taste the glory of your sex that I taste, Meela. Fire and earth and water and sea. You are my Queen. He settles his body upon mine and his giant cock presses between the cleft of my sex. My hips roll up and back seeking his cock. Desire for him to fill me. To bury himself within me.

  One orgasm was not enough for my greedy bird, Sarkany thinks.

  I reach down and press my hand to the top of his cock. Slick pre-cum coats the head. I smooth my finger over the edge and grasp him.

  “Meela,” he growls. “I…I cannot wait.”

  Sarkany pulls back his hips and he presses into the thick ring of muscles around my sex. He pauses. So sweet and tight, your little cunt, he thinks.

  I bite my bottom lip. The sweet thrust of Sarkany’s strong hips. I grasp his back and shoulders. My nails rake into his flesh. With one hard thrust, Sarkany fills me. Hard and deep.

  “Oh my Goddess,” I moan.

  Meela, Meela, my Queen! He thrusts in and out and in and out, pounding into me and I lift my legs and wrap them around his waist. This is our first mating since the ceremony, and he takes me with a force and a need.

  You are mine! His thoughts roar through me, and his body stiffens. Heat rips through my body as he comes and lines me with his seed. My orgasm rips through my body, and my muscles quake and tremble. My sex squeezing over and over, milking him of all his seed.

  I pant, breathing hard. He lies on top of me, also panting. I press my lips to his lips. He pulls away from me and slides out of my sex.

  Empty.

  My body feels empty without my mate. He wraps his arms around me, pulls me close, and throws the blankets over us both. He presses his lips to my forehead and then my nose and finally my lips.

  “There is no other place I ever wish to be than in your arms, my little bird,” he says. The hint of a smile tickles the edges of his lips.

  My big, strong warrior, so sweet and gentle. I smile and snuggle closer.

  “So how do these dogs that are only half-human treat you and my brother?” Sarkany asks.

  Cold mixed with pain slides through my heart.

  Meela, what is it? Sarkany thinks.

  I place a block on our private link. I don’t want to go through this now, I don’t want to confront his words, or explain to him who I am… I can’t tonight. Instead I turn onto my side, away from my Sarkany. His confusion over me turning away unquiets his mind.

  “Meela?” he asks, and touches my shoulder. “Are you…are you okay?”

  “Only tired, my Prince,” I say. I press my eyelids tight and attempt to quell the tears that burn my eyes.

  Filthy dogs? Half-human? Oh but what will Sarkany think or say when he realizes that he’s had a fating ceremony with one of the very dogs that he calls filth? Soon behind me I hear the soft deep sounds of slumber. It doesn’t take long for my great bear to fall asleep after we’ve made love.

  I roll onto my back and stare up at the glass ceiling above me. Stars and a full moon. My mind wanders to Rex. He knows what I am, and still he desires me to be his Wolveskin Queen. Even his father, the former King, knew what I was and greeted me into this pack as though I was one of their own. While instead, my mother was so fearful of the Eliterrati and her Aristocratic blood that she put me and Huali in a Ninaku laundry to prevent us and our mixed-blood from being discovered.

  I take a deep breath. Who are the true beasts? The Wolveskins that welcome me or the Eliterrati such as Vlissimal and Leo that would see me dead?

  Meela?

  King Rex, I think as I slip off to sleep, are you…are you in the wild letting your beast roam?

  There is no response from the King, and I drift away as Prince Sarkany sleeps beside me.

  Chapter Four

  Leo

  “It’s always a good day when you get to slay Dregs,” Uncle says. “Isn’t it, Leo?”

  Death. Filth. Fear. The stench of Ninaku assaults my nose. We pass through the slum gates on horseback. Dregs scatter before us like rats facing daylight.

  They run for their lives.

  Nothing good comes to Dregs when the Roya guard enters Ninaku.

  My stomach churns. Six Slayers dressed in red with black patent boots ride beside Uncle. Each on a black mount. Uncle still inhabits his false identity of being “the greatest Mindslayer that ever lived.”

  Is he mad? Completely lost his mind?

  I send a tendril to Uncle’s mind and am swiftly rebuffed. The tendril I’d locked to the underside of his brain after Wagu died has been uprooted and pulled like a tended weed. A mind block in place around Uncle’s mind. Who is helping him? It can’t be a para-succubus as there are no new Dregs in the Palace or near Uncle since Wagu’s death. The entire Counsel rides with us. Lady Alana is on a mount beside me. Just behind us is Captain Orlo and **.

  “I loathe Ninaku,” Captain Orlo says, and spits in the street.

  “Death, the entire place reeks of death,” Lady Alanna says. Her nostrils flare as though she can hardly stand being in the streets of the Ninaku Slum.

  “Ah, let’s start here, shall we?” Uncle says. He pulls his horse to a stop in front of the Ninaku laundry.

  The entire contingent stops. Bright blue paint peels from the wooden door in the old brick building. I block my mind. There is one laundry that serves the Eliterrati in Ninaku and not long ago this place housed both Meela and her sister, Huali. This was Meela’s place of servitude, where we found her, what feels like a lifetime ago.

  A cruel smile curves over Uncle’s mouth. Does he know that this laundry is the place of Meela’s origin? Or is his choice to begin the Dreg mindscrub here simply a coincidence?

  Uncle turns in the saddle of his horse. He lifts an eyebrow. “Is this place familiar to you, Leo?”

  There are no coincidences in life. Uncle’s pointed look makes it obvious that this laundry was chosen because he either knows of Meela’s background or has guessed and wishes to see me react.

  I say nothing. Uncle dismounts.

  The streets are empty. Barren of Dregs. The weight of a thousand pairs of eyes is upon us from every window of every building.

  The six Slayers dismount and line up in the street. The Roya guard walks beside Uncle to the laundry door.

  Bile rises in my throat. I swallow. We are a plague upon all that live here. A pox, a horrible scourge upon the Dreg. Only suffering and death shall be the consequence of Lord Vlissimal entering their district. This day shall be no different than all the days before today as it is Uncle’s intent to turn the Ninaku streets into rivers that run red with Dreg blood.

  “Come out, come out wherever you are,” Uncle calls. A wicked laugh bursts from his lips. Cruel and mean. His eyes glitter. Excitement over the pain he’s about to inflict.

  Uncle pounds his fist on the locked laundry door.

  My mind’s eye sees beyond the door to the inside where dozens of women and girls huddle in fear. Hidden behind dirty Eliterrati clothes and linens. Fear permeates their pores.

  My stomach sours. A mere month before, I would’ve thought these Dregs to be vermin, more akin to rats and rodents than they were human, just by virtue of being born a Dreg.

  But now?

  My brother loves Meela. Taraz believes her to be our fated-mate. How can I see the women and girls that hide in fear as anything other than Meela’s friends?

  My mind’s eye searches further into the laundry. And Dribble, the man who runs the laundry who tried to rape Meela nearly the entire time she worked here is no more.

  No
one answers. Uncle steps away from the door. He turns to his guards. “Open it,” he says.

  Bam!

  The battering ram pounds the door.

  Bam!

  The wooden door splinters on the second thrust. The guards burst into the laundry.

  Screams. The screams of women and girls. The guards herd them into the street.

  My stomach churns. I will not look away.

  Girls kneel on the hard cobble.

  Uncle paces in front of the line of defenseless women and girls. What a glorious bastard he is.

  “Where is, the proprietor of this place?” Uncle says. He walks up to to the tallest girl. A wicked smile like a hungry tiger decorates Uncle’s face.

  “Lord Vlissimal sir,” the girl stammers out says, and bows her head. “Sir, Dribble is….is dead and—”

  “Dead? Killed by the dreg girl I would guess? The one with the curse?”

  None of the laundry girls utter a word. They kneel on the hard cobble in front of Uncle as he paces before them.

  “The girl that worked here, the one you call Meela, had the Curse and is a resister.”

  The girls pale with Uncle’s words. I remain on my horse. My gaze drifts away from the girls, hopeful that I don’t give away my thoughts or remind any of them of my presence here, not so long ago.

  “Sir?” The tall girls finally stammers out, “None of us in the laundry have been infected by such a thing. No, no, no—we have no one here who has the”—she lowers her voice and whispers —“The Curse, sir.”

  “Ah yes, so kind of you to say so, but I suppose I will have to discover that for myself.”

  The wailing and screaming increases with Uncle’s words, because the discovery of The Curse includes the crushing of a Dreg’s mind.

  Uncle grasps the top of the tall girl’s head, and her face crumples in pain.