Claiming Their Royal Mate: Part One (4 page)

S
omewhere around the
time she’d admitted wanting him before the heat hit, he’d made a decision. His honor was important, as was his promise to his best friend. His clan. But Daniella was more important. What she wanted mattered more than anything else.

And she wanted
him
.

With her pussy holding him tight, it was all he could do to stay still. To give her body a chance to get used to his hardness filling her. He wanted to kick himself for not going slower, for not easing himself into her trembling body. But her heat and the simple fact that he’d dreamed about this moment for months didn’t allow for slowness.

He started to move as soon as her body quit shaking from the orgasm. God, she was beautiful. Body touched with sweat and smelling of sex and floral shampoo and woman.

His woman.

Slowly, he rolled his hips against her, moving as carefully as he could manage. He’d already pushed himself into her like a rutting bull; he needed to slow back down, make sure it was as good for her as it was for him—better. He couldn’t live with himself if he hurt her.

She moaned, long and low when he moved, and he stopped.

“Are you all right?” He didn’t even recognize his own voice, taut with the strain of holding himself back.

She turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder, swollen lips turned up in a small grin. “Harder.”

He snarled. “I’m trying not to hurt you.”

“Did I ever tell you I like it rough?” she asked, voice breathy. Words hanging in the air, she pushed back, impaling herself on him fully. His balls brushed her clit, and she moaned again.

“Damn,” he ground out.

He couldn’t resist her demands. Her sexiness. Her ass trying to grind against him. God, she was so wet and hot and tight.

Gripping her hips hard, he started to fuck her.

Despite her words, he moved slowly at first, building a delicious rhythm that was both the greatest pleasure and the worst torture he’d ever inflicted upon himself. He watched his cock slide in and out of her wetness, her back arched to take him as deeply as she could, and the sight was almost too much for him to take.

When her cries grew breathier and louder, and the buildup inside him became almost painful, he moved faster. Thrusting in and out of her, as he’d imagined doing since the day he’d met her. One hand gripping her hips, he slipped the other around to pinch her clit.

With a low cry, she came again. Her pussy clenched around him and her body shuddered with release. Control already slipping, he let go.

Inside his mouth, his canines grew long, brushing his bottom lip as he gritted his teeth. Had to claim her. Make her his.

He lashed out, sinking his teeth into her neck as he held her hips with both hands in a hard grip. Awareness of anything but her disappeared, and he pumped into her, fucking her as hard as he could, any reason or concern utterly lost to him. Only the need to come inside her—
his
mate—mattered. Only the sensation of filling her body mattered. Only solidifying their connection mattered.

Poison pumped through his teeth and into her neck. In his arms, her body went stiff, then soft, as the paralytic in his teeth penetrated her system, rendering her immobile. Defenseless against his onslaught.

He thrust inside her as deep as he could, and the orgasm ripped through him, and beneath him, he felt her pussy convulse around him again. His dick pulsed and jerked as her body milked him; he yanked his teeth from her body and groaned out her name. Pleasure overwhelmed him, the orgasm mixing with the feline satisfaction of knowing that she was claimed.

Mine
.

Colors flashed across his vision, and after a few moments, he slowly pulled himself out of her. She let out a small noise at the movement.

Sudden realization hit him. He’d bitten her.

Shit
.

But the effects were already fading. He lay down next to her on the bed and pulled her into his arms, and she half-heartedly batted at him.

“What the hell was that?” she asked, voice small and distant. Propping herself up on an elbow she studied him. Her hand moved to rest on his bite mark, and she flinched when her fingers brushed against the small wounds.

“I’m sorry,” he said, gruffly. “I should have warned you. But I wasn’t planning on biting you—not yet. But in the moment, I couldn’t control it.” He gave her a small smile. “You bring out the beast in me.”

“I couldn’t move, but I could still feel you, moving inside me.” Her brows scrunched together adorably. “It was…different.”

“Bad?”

“I—I don’t know.” She sighed. “Okay, I’ll admit it was pretty good in the moment. But I’m not sure how I feel about it. I take it that was more weretiger BS?”

His smile widened at her words.
Weretiger BS
. Oh, how that would make Erick’s blood boil. “It’s something we do—feel the need to do—when we mate. Especially when a woman is in heat. Some sort of biological imperative. There is a paralyzing toxin that comes out when we bite. Keeps the female from getting away I guess.”

A very unfeminine snort. “How romantic.”

“Handy in a fight, though.”

Boneless, she released a sigh, and rested her head on his shoulder. “Well, whatever. Add this to the list of stuff I’m going to need more info on sooner rather than later.” A few short seconds later, a soft snore came from her.

With the heat temporarily sated, she would sleep now, probably for several hours. And when she woke up, he would be there. Ready to take care of her however he could. However she needed.

Complete and utter satisfaction hit him. It didn’t matter what they’d have to deal with going forward, because they’d face it together.

Even if the challenge was his best friend, his prime, and up until the moment he’d laid eyes on Daniella, the most important person in the world to him.

E
rick watched the road closely
, his two best men silent in the cab with him, and squeezed the wheel. Driving wasn’t something he enjoyed; it was unnatural. The truck was too slow. But his feet would have been slower.

He had driven as quickly as the truck would take him through the mountains his people ruled—despite the fact that the humans didn’t even know of their existence. But when he’d emerged onto well-used roads that were policed by officers who knew nothing of the clan, he had to slow down to near the speed limit. Dealing with humans would slow him down more than the speed limit.

“Have you seen her?” Glenn asked from the passenger seat.

Erick didn’t glance at him, the man who had acted as his second until Owen could return from his watch over Daniella.

“Yes.”

Glenn didn’t ask a follow-up question, and Erick didn’t invite one. Talking about the woman he was going to mate wasn’t going to happen.

The first—and only—time he’d seen her was still fresh in his mind. No closer than twenty feet, and still his reaction had been visceral.

Luscious, her form was exactly what he preferred in women. Curvy, yet sleek, ripe for fucking. Ripe for bearing his cubs.

Owen had cursed him for leaving him behind to watch her, to wait until she couldn’t resist him, but Erick couldn’t let his friend’s opinions bother him. To approach her any other way would require time, and wooing. Time was in short supply because he couldn’t be away from the clan long. And Erick knew nothing of wooing women for anything more than a quick fuck.

No. This way was simpler. It had required patience, but Erick had always been patient when stalking his prey. The woman wasn’t prey, but the same principles applied.

Owen had tried to convince him this way wouldn’t get him anything lasting, but that wasn’t his concern. His parents certainly hadn’t been in any kind of relationship—lasting or otherwise. As far as Erick had been able to tell, they could barely stand one another. They’d done their duty. Bred him and his younger brother. Created two new royals in a time when it was rare to see more than one born in the same clan in a single generation.

Not that it mattered that there were two of them. Nicolas had left the clan when he was little more than a teenager. Only Erick was left to carry the duty of keeping his people together. Keeping them strong.

Keeping them alive.

Like his father before him, he’d do his duty. The royal he’d tracked down with the relentlessness he was known for—Daniella—would accept him into her bed, during her heat if nothing else. Once she learned of their people, came to know them, perhaps she would be proud to continue their line.

But she didn’t have to like him.

Erick would enjoy taking her; his cock swelled even at the brief memory he had of her. And he would make sure she enjoyed being taken.

M
oonlight peeked
through the curtains when a heavy knock on the door rattled the apartment. Daniella was still tucked safely in his arms, fitting as if she’d been born to fit him.

Erick.

The clock radio next to the bed read three seventeen. The sun wouldn’t rise for several hours yet. He’d gotten here faster than Owen thought possible.

Another knock sounded, and Daniella stirred in his arms. She let out a small sigh and then nuzzled his neck.

He’d have liked nothing better than to wake her, slowly and languidly. Make love to her again, but this time he’d explore her. Find all the things that brought her to the edge. Figure out what made her writhe and beg and scream.

“Have to wake up now, kitten,” he murmured.

She blinked sleepily, but there was an edge behind her eyes. A need that would only grow the longer she went without breeding.

“Your prime?” She made half-hearted air quotes around the title.

“Yes.”

She pulled her robe tighter, and his resolve strengthened. The promises he had made to his prime and friend—and by extension, to his people—were important. But not as important as her. He would do anything he had to in order to protect Daniella. She was his. Just as he was undeniably hers.

But the cost to his clan could be huge. Guilt twinged in his chest. If only there was a way to keep her, yet allow for the certainty of a royal heir.

One possibility hadn’t been discussed yet—but he wasn’t sure bringing it up would do anything but push her further away. A possibility that wasn’t at all strange to his people—not even strange to him and Erick. But Daniella had been raised with humans, and something so far outside of what she’d consider normal and reasonable wasn’t something he could ask of her.

He gave her a quick kiss, hard and full of all the emotion he couldn’t express any other way in the time they had.

“You are mine,” he said, fiercely. “I will not give you up.”

She nodded, and some of the tension left her shoulders. He gave her hand a final, reassuring squeeze and went to answer the door.

It flew open just as he stepped out of the bedroom.

Erick stepped inside, filling the room with his large frame and commanding presence. However much Owen despised how he’d tried to take Daniella, he had to admit that his friend was born to rule. Every fiber of the man’s being screamed that he was to be obeyed.

Two of his best guards, Anton and Glenn, were at his heels. Owen stood his ground. From behind him, he heard Daniella stirring. Interested in seeing what the other man who wanted her looked like?

It didn’t matter. She was his now. And he would risk his life to keep her.

Erick’s gaze was hard when scanned the room. Without a word, he took a long, deep breath of air through his nose.

“You have mated her,” Erick said.

“Yes. She is
mine
.”

“You will fight for her.”

Owen tensed. “I will.”

Erick hesitated, but his hard expression didn’t soften. “Human form, then.”

His prime was giving him a chance. It didn’t matter that Erick was a royal and Owen was not—he could have specified tiger form. Owen’s partial shift form was powerful, but not as powerful as Erick’s full tiger. With a short nod, Owen agreed to the terms.

Erick struck.

S
he fell back
from the doorway as Erick flew at Owen. Panic constricted her throat. Owen could handle himself, she didn’t doubt that, but his prime hadn’t come alone.

But the other men just stepped back, out of the way as the men sparred.

Erick got in the first strike, but Owen danced away from the next punch. Then he darted to one side and swung at Erick while his side was open. Erick’s expression didn’t reveal any pain.

She almost couldn’t follow their movements; they were that quick. Like the tigers Owen said shared their blood, they moved with a fierce grace.

They rarely hit one another, but the times they did were leaving their mark. Less than a minute of their eerily wordless sparring, blood and scrapes covered both of their faces, and she could only imagine what their ribs would look like when the bruises started to show. A crash when Owen landed on the coffee table. A loud thump when Owen threw Erick into his wall, leaving behind a large hole. But the only sound coming from them men was the occasional grunt when one got in a good hit. The sweet smell of sweat tinged with blood touched her nose.

How long would it go on? How long would Owen have to fight for her?

Her stomach churned at the thought. All of this was, in a weird way, her fault.

“Stop it!” she shouted.

Both men slowed, no longer striking, but not looking at her, either.

“This is so stupid. It doesn’t even matter who wins.”

That got their attention. Owen turned slightly to stare at her, careful to keep the other man in his peripheral vision.

“What is she talking about?” Erick ground out.

“Don’t ask him, asshole. I’m standing right here.” Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew poking the tiger wasn’t the best idea. The man was obviously violent, and even though he wasn’t as physically imposing as Owen—he was tall, but not quite so muscular—Erick made her gut clench in fear in a way that Owen never had. Somehow she knew, instinctively, that under normal circumstances, Erick was the more dangerous of the two.

But she was feeling pretty violent herself. Whatever ancient machismo BS they were engaged in—well, she wasn’t the shut up and do whatever the men tell her to type. Their fight had the seriousness of a death match, and she wasn’t about to find out definitively how it would end. Not if she could do something about it.

Finally, Erick’s gaze slid to her. A quick glance at the fang marks in her neck, and then his intense eyes were locked on hers. “What are you talking about, woman?”

She didn’t roll her eyes, but it was a close call. The man was ruggedly handsome, and quite honestly one of the sexiest men she’d ever seen close up—just like Owen, yet so different. He was a bit more grizzled—in a wild man sort of way—and a couple of years older. Charcoal hair brushed his neck. A Calvin Klein model would be thankful to be blessed with Erick’s face. Yeah, he was pretty, however much that was worth. He was lucky for it because he’d never win any women with his charm.

“I’ve made my choice. I choose Owen. I don’t care who wins this fight. I’m going—staying—home with him.”

“This is a fight to the death,” Erick told her, grimly. “You will go home with whomever wins.”

“Wow. What year do you think this is? I will be with the man I choose, and it isn’t you, buddy. I go home with him or nobody.”

The smile he flashed her held no humor. “In another hour, the heat will hit and you will go home with any tiger who offers.”

She returned his smile with every bit of coldness she could summon. And considering his attitude, it was a lot. “You might get the chance to fuck me while I’m in heat, I’ll give you that. But you just wait. The first time you fall asleep or let your guard down, I will make you pay for his death. Can you still be king of the weretigers, or whatever the hell you are, gelded?”

Erick blinked. Hah! Apparently, even the big, bad prime of the tigers could be surprised.

One of the men behind him made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. But Owen refused to meet her gaze. He didn’t look happy. Damn. She’d made a wrong move. How was she supposed to know what the rules were? Besides, she wasn’t the type to sit around and knit while he fought their battles.

He should already know that.

“You would do no such thing. It is not honorable. That’s the sort of honorless fighting vampires engage in.
We
do not.” He stood proudly, as if his argument would hold water for her.

She shrugged, hoping she appeared far more nonchalant than she felt. Not that her appearance probably mattered to a guy who could smell the fear on her. “I’m not really into the honor thing. I was raised by humans, remember? I’m more about the sneaky vengeance.”

“Do you allow your woman to fight your battles?” Erick said, turning his gaze to his friend.

“No. We will finish this fight.” Owen glanced at her. “I will kill him for you.”

“Do whatever floats your boat, buddy. But don’t lay it on me. I don’t need your friend’s blood on your hands. And killing him isn’t going to turn me on. It sounds like a good way to send me packing, actually.” She frowned, and added, “After this heat thing passes, anyway.”

Erick’s frown deepened. “She is a most unusual female.”

“She was raised among humans.” Owen’s posture straightened, some of the tension leaving his hard frame. “She is a warrior in her own right.”

The unmistakable pride in his voice made her heart swell, even though she didn’t exactly think she qualified as a warrior. “Look, whatever. Isn’t there some kind of non-bloody compromise we could come to here? Because—no offense— you’re…”
Extremely sexy but also super scary looking.
“…A good looking guy and all, but I don’t even know you.”

“You don’t need to know me. Your tiger will recognize the dominance in mine.”

“Sorry. Not enough for me, pal.”

Erick’s gaze moved to Owen, and they shared a long look. Were weretigers telepathic or something? That seemed unlikely. But an idea was being exchanged, even if it was simply being communicated silently by men who knew each other well. She was certain that whatever compromise they suggested wasn’t something she was going to like.

Owen nodded at his friend, and Erick turned his attention to her. Her guts twisted tighter.

“Unlike some of our kind, I am not weak.” Erick didn’t look at Owen, but his meaning was clear, and if she’d actually had tiger fur, it would have bristled. “I do not require a female more often than her heat beckons. For the good of my people, I would be willing to share you with my second, claiming you only when your heat crests, and you are at your most fertile.”

“What the hell? You want to use me as some sort of broodmare? Breed me like an animal?” And what was his second? Did that mean Owen was the one in charge if something happened to Erick? Because she wouldn’t have minded something violent happening to the arrogant man in that moment. Like she was going to bend over and let this stranger breed her like an animal. An image of exactly that flashed in her mind, and she swallowed hard. No way. That was not turning her on. No matter what her body thought.

Something in his expression changed, but he covered the emotion so quickly she couldn’t identify it. “We’re not animals. But we are in danger of extinction. I will share you for the sake of my people. I’m not asking for a
relationship
,” he said, spitting out the last word as though it tasted bad. “I’m asking you to help preserve your clan.”

Owen shifted on his feet behind his prime, and she turned her gaze to him, swallowing the angry words she wanted to lob at his friend. But Owen didn’t look pissed, he looked…uncomfortable.

“You want me to do it!” She gaped at him. What the hell had just changed? How on earth could he even think of sharing her? Didn’t he care about her at all?

“No.” He approached and tried to take her hands in his, but she stepped back. “I’m sorry. I don’t
want
to share you. But what he’s saying his true. Our clan needs a royal line to lead it. They need the power that comes with it to stay together. Without a royal heir…”