Mattayas felt a sick twisting in his stomach at her look of hurt ... at the disappointment in her ice blue eyes.
What was wrong with him that he was acting so out of character? Screwing a Lyx bitch that was fertile, heedless of the old tales? Risking her kiss?
His mind had taken leave at the first scent of her, and the scent of another male on her was maddening.
His cousin Seten lowered his head, taking one of the Lyx's pert little nipples into his mouth. She closed her eyes and turned her head away, clenching her teeth. There was no sensual show now. Her body cooled around his still-raging cock. To his shock, fresh tears glistened on her dark lashes. She sobbed.
His next coherent moment was the realization that he had his hand wrapped around Seten's throat. He didn't question why he'd do such a thing. She'd sobbed, and Seten had scented the Lyx. Either was reason enough.
"Do not touch her," he growled.
The young bitch stared at him, seemingly as stunned by his actions as he was himself.
Mine. Mattayas shoved Seten further away, then slid from the bitch's body, smiling at her shiver and mew of protest.
"Turn over," he ordered her.
It was madness. He was ordering her into the submissive, demanding that she take him as she would a mate ... or at least one she wanted a brood from.
She nodded her agreement. His cock released a stream of come that simply.
"Mattayas," Seten grumbled, an unspoken rebuke for his folly.
He didn't answer. Instead, he hooked two fingers inside her heat. The little bitch pressed her hips up, thrusting against them. She bit her lower lip at his withdrawal, drawing a bead of blood with her half-extended fangs.
Mattayas stared at her, hungry for her body again. "Release her, Tragan. Let her turn."
The buck released her arm, though he grasped the length of belt dangling from her wrists to keep her from attacking Mattayas with her clawed paws. Though she'd laid Tragan's face open in four lines, it seemed she had no urge to harm any of them.
Confirming that impression, she pulled her legs back and rolled, pillowing her head on her bound hands and settling high on her knees to spread for him.
Oh, Luna, yes! Would that he had the night to feast on her. But, he didn't. Tragan's war howl would bring the Lyx all too soon.
Mattayas thrust into her, his heart pounding at her gasp of delight. He eased his hand from her waist to her clit, and she circled her hips against him, taking all he had to give.
The need was pressing, and Mattayas pounded into her, thanking Luna as the bitch met him, push for push. She half-swallowed a cry of pleasure as climax took her, and her body urged him on.
Mark her. Luna, but he had to.
Mattayas grasped her shoulder, dragging her throat up to his mouth, his fangs extending fully. He expected her to shy as she had from the Lyx buck.
If she does, I will hold her down to do it. She must carry my mark. He didn't question that it was so.
She didn't move to avoid him. The bitch swung her black hair to the side, tilting her head to invite him.
He bit down, growling at her scream, releasing into her at her shudder. His cock thickened, stimulating her again ... if it did so with a Lyx bitch.
Her blood coursed into his mouth, salty and pungent, imprinting her scent into his hardwired memory. She could never hide from him now--he could track her, wherever she went.
His cock had just started to ease when Seten pulled at his shoulder. Mattayas growled at him, his shoulders tensing, unwilling to leave her.
"They're coming, Mattayas. We are outnumbered."
His mind warred with his instincts. Normally, they would tell him to run, but it was his mind telling him that now. They had to leave, but his stubborn Wul instincts roared a protest at the idea. What was it about the bitch that did this to him?
Mattayas thrust his wrist in front of her mouth. "Mark it," he ordered.
She hesitated, though she had no reason to. He was offering her the same advantage he had over her. He wanted her to have it.
"Mattayas." Tragan's hands joined Seten's, pulling back at his shoulders without success.
She nuzzled then bit down, her short, sharp teeth drawing his blood then retreating. Her rough tongue teased at the wound, drinking him down. His body was on fire, pulsing, leaking more come into the liquid heat between her thighs.
He nodded. Their escape would be a close thing. Mattayas swept his hand away from her mouth and left her body, his heart aching at her soft protest.
She curled to her side, shaking, her thighs pressed together, her bound hands drawn up beneath her bloodied mouth.
Mattayas pulled his shirt over her and rose, shifting form and leading his pack mates away. His sensitive hearing picked up sounds of the Lyx pursuit, the sound of his name from her lips ... and the bitch's name.