A Guardians Passion (43 page)

For a second, a horrible notion came to mind, of Birathan between her thighs. The image of his malicious, evil grin appeared behind her eyes. Her eyes snapped open, eager to see her mate, even if just the crown of his head.

The emotions Fenris stirred in her were gentle, loving. There had been plenty of times when Fen was rough, but then she had needed him to be. She had been just as enamored with fighting him as fucking then.

While fun, it wasn’t what this night was for, and he knew it, she was sure.

Just as she had taken her time to savor him, Fenris was delicate with his kisses and the probe of his tongue pressing into her pussy for the juices flowing from her. Panting, she strove for more contact, rougher stimulation. Fenris was her beast, and he had her permission.

“More, wolf,” she demanded. “I need more.”

Fenris complied, and she shook as he thrust his tongue within her.
Hello, damn-fucking-nation.

Rayne covered her with his golden veil of hair, kissing her all over her face, feathering her cheeks and the sides of her mouth as she struggled with her own breathing. His fingers were back upon her nipples, but with soft caresses, subtle pulls and pinches that only added to her feverish state.

She reached up and grasped her beta by the back of his head as her body, already worked into a frenzy, refused to behave a second longer. Fenris and Rayne had barely taken full advantage of the free rein she had given them, yet Freya still needed to bury her cries within Rayne’s mouth. Her thighs clamped down like a vise about her alpha’s head.

Pulled in two directions—one seeking abandon, and the other trying to hold it at bay—Freya felt the electric vibrations signaling that she had reached the breaking point.

Her alpha devoured her explosion, pushing his finger inside her to open the fount for his hunger. Just the feel of his fingers within her triggered aftershocks, sweet and deliciously poignant.

They used the same strategies that she had, giving her pleasures slow and calculated, not rushing but deliberate in both exploration and teasing. Rayne made it his mission to worship her sweat-dappled skin, journeying from her lips to discover her shoulders, belly, hips, and legs. Artfully he moved around Fenris, who was lapping at her cunt like a very reverent cur.

Without a word, without competition or argument, Fenris slid aside to make way for Rayne, courteous in their exchange. Fenris came to claim her mouth as Rayne delved inside her for a taste.

Freya sought out Fenris as he took Rayne’s place at her side. She needed his strength, to be able to have the iron of his body to cling to, as Rayne tried to be gentle with her overly sensitive skin. The press of his tongue came slower, the brush of his lips was lighter, and the suction of his lips upon her clit was damnation.

Rayne’s feasting drew wailing cries from her as she trembled, a volcano on the verge of another eruption.

She looked to Fenris, helpless in the throes of her desire, and found him beaming. Knowing that she could show vulnerability and be vulnerable for her males gave Freya the freedom to break once more, coming upon the stimulation of her beta.

By the time Rayne gathered her thighs and pulled her down onto his cock, tears were forming at the corners of her eyes, which Fenris licked away before giving them back to Freya’s lips.

Pleasure and torture. The two combined to create bliss. Rayne’s slow, measured thrusts, the glide of his cock massaging her with agonizing sweetness broke apart both Freya’s heart and mind, like a chocolate spilling a creamy core. Rayne’s hips met hers for what seemed like an eternity, and while she suspected that she had come several times with him inside her, she was far too caught up in euphoria to be able to tell the difference. Every breath was a climax. The very air was heavy with the scent of sex, and the arms embracing her were steel just like the cock within her.

She wasn’t even sure when they switched, Fenris taking Rayne’s place. She was guided onto her side so that both could inhabit her the way she had learned to love. Rayne was flush against her ass and pressing deep. Fenris was stretching her pussy with his girth. Yet as hard as both males were, they kept composure, rocking in sync within her. Kisses fell everywhere from her forehead to her chin and from shoulder to shoulder.

It was a reward well given and well taken, a success that even Helena would have been proud of, Freya felt.

When Rayne finally faltered and flooded the depths of her ass with his seed, when Fenris took his last deep, savoring plunge inside her pussy, Freya felt at glorious peace. She was drenched, heavy, and while floating, her body unable to give another shudder, to bear another explosion.

By tell of their heartbeats, Freya knew they were sated and they were pleased with their reward. With their lovemaking, she got the assurances that words could never convey. To Fenris and Rayne, she could be vulnerable and protected, fierce and a soldier, all at once. And with all that had happened and all that could, she swore to herself never to doubt it.

“You will be back before Odessa arrives.” She sighed sleepily against Fenris’s chest, yet the question was meant for Rayne.

“Odessa?” he asked against her nape before Freya covered his hand, which had already been cradling her stomach. That her cub chose that exact moment to kick didn’t surprise her in the least.

“Of course.” Rayne sighed as he moved her hair and kissed the back of her neck. “I will be there the second you go into labor, my alpha.”

Fenris yawned loudly before adding, “It wasn’t a question, Rayne.”

“No.” Freya agreed with her alpha as she closed her eyes. “It wasn’t.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Breakfast was served in the aspregas’ bedroom on the floor where last night’s meal had been held. Boiled eggs, buttered biscuits, sausages, and a great variety of fruit were on order. The asprega thrived from being around others, able to interact, listen, and learn. Una was able to communicate verbally, but the entire group seemed connected telepathically and was quite intelligent. Una had told Freya that the white-eyed demon had shown them magic tricks and that the pretty brown wolf with the snake hair had entertained them with words. Their opinions of the growly blond wolf and the white giant, however, had not been improved by the sounds coming from her room.

“Was he beating you?” Una had asked her.

The night before, Gaea and Geraldine had helped Ezra feed the asprega dinner. With Freya otherwise engaged with her mates and her mother having finished her victory fuck with Gaea and Cole, the asprega had been well fed from the ever-increasing stocks of food Vaegar’s folk were bringing in.

All were seated on the mattresses, Geraldine with her paramours and Freya with her beast squad, passing platters of biscuits and bowls of fruit to and fro.

Her mother didn’t seem completely confident in their harmlessness. Benna, who had arrived to share breakfast with them, looked equally concerned, especially when Freya detailed her plan to create room for the asprega at the lodge.

“You’re going to have your hands full as it is,” Benna said, gesturing to Freya’s belly.

Freya looked at her mates and then at Ezra. “I have big hands. And plenty of help. We’ll be fine.”

“We will help,” added Una staunchly, the other asprega females nodding.

Freya couldn’t help grinning. The girls weren’t stupid, just inexperienced. She hadn’t wanted to admit that having them near calmed her. Birathan, Di’Amanda—no one like them would ever subjugate the girls.

Freya tried to switch the topic of conversation, asking about Benna’s health and offering the girl a platter of biscuits as it came around.

“No, thank you. I’m full of espressos. It was a busy night.”

“How so?” She suspected the girl wasn’t speaking of the same way that her night had been busy, but a progress report was welcome.

“We’ve got those assholes. They’ll never try to fuck us again.” Benna had a vacant, cold look about her. It had been the most Freya had ever heard the girl curse.

Just as Freya had expected, the vampires were stuck on the john and desperate for toilet paper. Searching, they would have accepted a square from any hand beneath the stall. The vampires were turning on their own to discover the remaining captives. They were offering abundant recompense, verbally and monetarily. Gifts, sympathies, and promises were coming in along with the return of the remaining mothers and cubs.

The greatest present of all, however, was due to arrive later in the day, Benna informed her, one that Freya couldn’t wait to receive. The traitor.

Emily McTavish had played the game right alongside Di’Amanda, and both had lost. They had found her, along with the pens in which the asprega had been kept, in a facility outside Calgary.

“There were at least forty failed experiments,” Benna whispered to Freya with a sidelong glance at Una and her sisters. “Perhaps they are better off with you.”

Freya was certain, returning the conversation to Emily.

“She’ll be here before nightfall. Di’Amanda’s scientists and lackeys couldn’t wait to hand her over. Of course we have them in custody as well.”

After breakfast was finished, Freya made certain her travel arrangements back to Iceland would fall after Emily’s arrival, but then so did several others, including Dona, Rayne, and Geraldine, having overheard the news.

The day was filled with distributions. Kallie had almost seamlessly reintegrated into her pack, taking her duties as a Sohon far more seriously. She had made it her responsibility to see that all the recovered wolves were well compensated. In place of the many gifts and purchases that she had been given during the initial event, Freya received several things her old self might have scoffed at.

The new Freya, however, appreciated the hell out her new diaper bag, the new maternity gowns, the toiletries, and the baby clothing. The bag weighed in at nearly forty pounds of generosity that she wasn’t even about to turn down. Kallie promised more would be delivered directly to each pack in compensation. When Freya tried to assure her that the Sohons weren’t a part of any blame, that they didn’t need to go above and beyond, the raven-haired wolf wouldn’t hear of it.

There was too much work to be done: lives to repair, crimes to address, and healing that needed to begin. As it was, Freya still wasn’t certain how she would deal with Rayne’s absence. She was determined to keep him close for as long as she could.

With Vaegar having claimed Di’Amanda’s mansion for his own, there was no rush for anyone to leave, but Freya yearned to be back at the place she called home. She needed projects, to restore her life with the same fervor the Sohons seemed to have.

Thick in the process of rebuilding his empire, Vaegar had commanded renovations, negotiations were being cemented, and surveillance was being conducted. Teams of armed escorts were being assigned to retrieval details of both victims and captors alike. Everyone seemed to have something to keep their minds clear. Everyone but Freya.

She didn’t need the stern glance from Fenris to know that he didn’t want her volunteering for a damn thing. Not about to argue, she spent most of her time watching nature shows with the asprega and considering the changes that would need to be made at the lodge. Fenris had decent carpentry skills, and she could supervise.

Freya and her extended pack were working on a late lunch when Dona joined them, offering suggestions, chipper as a pit viper. “There would be plenty of space within the nether realms for such creatures and plenty of opportunities. Rayne and I could find a place for them if you’d like.”

“Doing what?” Freya wanted to know. “Being trained to kill or fuck? Because I think they have one down and were being prepped for the other. Just maybe.”

“They are not shape-shifters, Freya. They cannot blend, and the days of humans being in awe of beasts is long past. What if they were to escape? What if they do not like being…civilized?”

“I don’t know about you, but I like democracy, and I can imagine that they might too.” Just thinking of the collars around the girls’ throats, of the fiend that Di’Amanda was going to sell them to, gave Freya the hives. There was nothing wrong with civilization.

“They
are
indigenous to earth, Dona. Albeit very far underground,” Rayne stated.

Freya squeezed her beta by the waist. All day she had been unable to keep her hands from him. Fenris was good for a jealous look every now and then, but he too found reasons to nuzzle against him. “They don’t know a damn thing about the underground. I ain’t about to throw them in a pit and say good luck.”

Dona shrugged. “I didn’t mean to imply that you would.”

“I know, but the only thing you need to imply is when you’re going to bring my beta back.”

White eyes flashed with a glare of condescension, reminding Freya that Dona was just as dangerous as everyone else in the room, possibly more. He attempted a smile, but the look was of someone whose nose itched, not mirth. The wytchen came to a stand, straightening out his robes. “Wolves. I just had to go and get a wolf with child. Impetuous creatures that you are.”

Rayne groaned in disgust, still no great a fan of his father despite the help he had already been given, it seemed.

Fenris spoke up before Freya could offer a response to that remark as well. “The girls will be just fine, Dona, as will my family. My beta included.”

The wytchen recoiled at the threat unspoken, and for a moment, Freya expected another bout of one-upmanship. Burying her nose in Rayne’s hair, she was certain who would win.

“Of course, Luna,” Dona acquiesced, knowing whose claim was more viable. Her alpha was one fierce-ass son of a bitch who didn’t give a damn about magic or spells. And while Dona could throw jealous looks all day, Freya only hoped that he understood the real message Fen was conveying: do not try to steal him, or all hell will break loose.

With a spiteful glare, the wytchen vanished suddenly, drawing the glee and surprise of all the asprega. They grinned and chuckled among one another, and for a moment, Freya feared they might try to follow, but their attention was swiftly recaptured by the television.