Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

C ain

I will feel much better once I have her off to sleep. She ate well, which is good, but I know her body has a great deal more recovering to do. The next few days will bring a lot of coddling for her. I am looking forward to looking after her. In just a few hours, she has become the entirety of my world.

There is infatuation, there is love, and then there is what I am feeling right now, complete and obsessive devotion. I cannot stop looking at her, memorizing every line of her face, every quirk of her micro-expressions. I like the way she flushes a little when she glances up and sees me looking at her, and the way her cheek dimples slightly when she smiles. She is an entire universe of beauty, and I want to appreciate every bit of it.

She walks with slow, pained steps, so I scoop her up into my arms and carry her to the bed, tucking her in under the blankets. She smiles up at me shyly and tries to hide a yawn unsuccessfully.

"I don't think I'm tired," she lies in the way little girls who want to stay up late always lie.

I understand how she feels. Going to sleep when there is this connection to be enjoyed does seem perverse.

"Get settled, and I will explain some of the history of our species to you, so you can understand who you really are, and why you only discovered as much today."

That is a good deal, and of course she accepts it.

At that moment, my phone rings. I debate not answering it, but I see it is my brother, and I know I can't ignore it. Something might be wrong somewhere that will matter at some point.

"Yes, Abel?"

"Bardo has been to see me. He says your mate is a DD?"

I glance down at Kira. She is listening to everything I am saying, and she can probably hear the voice on the phone too.

"We can talk about this tomorrow," I say.

"We can talk about it now. I'm downstairs."

"Then go home."

"I'm not going home. This is big, Cain, and you know it. We need to discuss how we are going to handle this."

"Tomorrow."

Abel is the most stubborn person in the world besides me. I can tell by the stony silence at the end of the line that if I don't go down, he's going to come up, and I don't want him or anybody else in the apartment with Kira and me. I want her to go to sleep. I want her to recuperate. I want her all to myself.

"Don't go anywhere," I say to her, pulling on a shirt and some pants quickly. I lock the apartment securely even though I know she is in her human form and not likely to bolt again.

I find Abel in the parking lot beneath the building. We cannot conduct pack conversations on phones that can easily be tapped, and we certainly can't talk inside the apartment where Kira could hear something that would hurt her feelings.

Abel is leaning against his Dodge Charger, his arms folded across his chest, his expression solemn.

"Is it true?"

"It is."

He lets out a low whistle and shakes his head. "My big bad brother's fated mate is a dilute domestic."

"Careful," I warn him. "I won't tolerate any disrespect. She is my mate. It's done."

He smiles, almost pitying me. "At least your job will be easy. She'll practically train herself. But the pack is not going to like this. There are plenty of pureblooded females who will think they are a better match for you."

"They're not compatible, and we all know it. I didn't feel the mate bond with them, and if they're honest with themselves, they'll admit they didn't feel it with me either."

Abel nods. "And all that logic won't mean anything when jealous females decide to take it out on Kira, who won't be able to defend herself. You won't always be around. They'll hunt her. It's not easy being alpha female."

I can't think of a person less like an alpha female than Kira. She's such a demure little thing.

"Have you come here just to point out obvious problems I'm already very well aware of?"

"I came here to talk to my brother, the alpha of the biggest pack in the country, and the oldest in our nation, to discuss what the ramifications of this event are. Bardo won't talk to anyone besides me, and he barely mentioned it to me. But sooner or later, this particular shit is going to hit the fan."

"Just because she's dilute doesn't mean she won't be an excellent mate, and that is all I care about. Nature doesn't make mistakes. She is supposed to be mine, and nothing anybody says or does will change that. She's mine today, tomorrow, and all the days following that."

"Easy, brother," Abel raises his hands in a show of surrender. "She's your mate, and there's no changing that. I'm not trying to suggest you should. I just wanted to understand the situation so we can make a plan to avoid the worst of the pack's misbehavior."

"There won't be any. Anybody who so much as looks at Kira in the wrong way is going to regret it. I will personally see to it."

A dark smile spreads over Abel's face. "That sounds like a good threat to you, but I can think of half a dozen females at least who would love for you to personally make them regret something. I think it is time I take on some responsibilities in moderating the pack. You've been in charge for years. But Bardo and I have our roles to play, too."

I see what he's doing. Asking for permission to take the wheel in more matters than business. I have to remind myself that this isn't a sign of insubordination. He doesn't want to fight me for control. He's not trying to take over. He wants to help. I have to trust that, because if I ever doubt it, I'll have to kill him.

I let out a long sigh, releasing the breath I was holding. "Do what you deem necessary, brother. I trust you."

Abel smiles broadly. That is what he wanted to hear, what he came here in the hopes he'd hear me say. He opens his arms to me. "Congratulations, brother. We've all waited for this day for you."

We hug.

I appreciate him supporting me, but every second I am away from Kira makes me feel a unique kind of anxiety that will only be assuaged by getting back into her presence and assuring myself she is well.

This is a normal stage in the mating bond. We will experience suffering when we are apart until weeks or even months have passed. Right now I have no intention of allowing Kira out of my sight ever again. I know logically that is not possible, but there's nothing logical about my animal mind.

"Stay in touch," Abel says, knowing full well that I will not be in touch for a while.

I go upstairs, let myself into the apartment, and go straight to the bedroom, only to discover the bed empty. I check the bathroom. She's not in there. My concern spikes.

"Kira!" There's a note of panic in my voice.

"Uhm. Here?" Her voice comes back to me almost immediately.

My concern only lasted a minute or two, but that's long enough to make me feel as though I am losing my mind. I stride through the apartment and find her watching television in the living room.

As far as sins go, it's not ostensibly a huge one, but I told her what to do, and she immediately disobeyed me. I cannot abide that. One little act of disobedience can swiftly compound into a whole lot more. I don't want to do what I'm about to do, but I'm going to do it anyway.

She gives me a wide-eyed look as I stride toward her.

I pick her up from the couch, sit down, and put her over my knee. The blanket she had wrapped around her falls away, leaving her naked and vulnerable over my lap. Her ass is so cute and shapely, soft and round and spankable as hell.

"When I tell you what to do, you do it," I lecture her. "I give orders, not suggestions. In my pack, my word is law."

"I'm sorry," she whimpers.

"I'm sure you are. I am also equally sure that you will be a good deal more sorry shortly. Part of being my mate, part of being in my pack, and part of being a wolf, is following orders."

I smack her ass. Not very hard, but hard enough to sting.

Her yelp is loud and dramatic. Her skin has barely changed color, so I know that there's no way I have done anything resembling damage. She's either being dramatic, or doesn't like how being corrected feels. I hope it's the latter. I don't want to have to do this too often.

It might seem like I'm being a tyrant, that she's a grown woman who can decide whether or not she goes to bed. But it's not that simple. We are not mere people. We are wolves. Order is not only essential to the functioning of the pack, it is required for all of us to be mentally healthy and stable. An alpha who cannot maintain order will have a sick mate and a sick pack.

I spank her again, firmly.

This time a light pink palm print appears on her cheeks, accompanied by another yelp.

I'd rather discipline her for something like this than have something worse happen, a more dangerous piece of defiance.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes!" she agrees immediately, but of course this can't be over that quickly. A couple of slaps isn't nearly enough to teach a lesson.

Kira

I can't believe this is happening. I guess he did tell me to stay in bed, but I never thought it was like, a proper order. I figured it was more of a suggestion, something he wanted me to do, but it wouldn't matter if I got out.

Now that I am prone over his powerful thighs, and my butt is stinging along with whatever was left of my pride, I'm starting to wonder why I ever thought that. He's not exactly a chill, relaxed kind of guy. He's type A. In his case, A stands for alpha, and I know I already put him through a lot today by making him chase me through the park.

It doesn't hurt as much as it could. He is very strong, and he could be beating the hell out of me if he wanted. I might have been a virgin before I met him, but I am no stranger to being whipped.

This feels different. He is holding me carefully, and he is making sure that I am not uncomfortable, other than in the way he wants me to be. I am snuggled close to his body, and his tone is firm, but not cruel. He almost sounds like he doesn't want to be doing this at all.

I squirm as several more slaps land, each one of them measured and deliberately placed. I can feel the care in every single one of them, each of them calibrated to ensure they don't hit too high or too low. The sting is growing slowly, and steadily, and it is starting to feel almost… good?

Guilt rushes through me. I'm not supposed to be enjoying this. He's trying to punish me. But being held by him feels like a reward, and even these slaps are sort of nice. The sharp pain is followed by a flush of heat and a little tingle of excitement between my legs.

He starts to spank me a little harder and a little faster. Maybe I'm not reacting the way he wants me to. Maybe he thinks he needs to do more to teach me a lesson. I don't know. What I do know is that it's making me feel increasingly good. I find myself holding my breath and trying to still my hips because I don't want to give myself away, but the harder he spanks me, the more intense that tingle of pleasure becomes.

My legs start to spread and kick, ostensibly because the spanking hurts so much but actually because it lets me grind my clit against his thigh. I know I shouldn't be doing this. I know it's against the spirit of what he's trying to achieve—but I like pleasure, and every time he swats me, I am jolted firmly against his thigh and my body is flushed with a freshly generated supply of hormones.

I assume he doesn't know what I'm doing. I hope he's too focused on punishing me to notice that my cries have become less pained and more performative. I don't want to be bad, but I can't help myself.

"I see, you little…"

He pushes his hand down between my legs and rubs along the seam of my sex. My lips betray me immediately, parting and allowing his fingers to slide up against my wet interior.

"You like this, do you? Is it the disobedience you enjoy, the punishment, or both?"

"Neither!" I lie because I don't know how to answer him.

He reaches beneath me, his arm sliding beneath my belly, and slides two fingers inside my aching pussy. I am still sensitive from having my virginity taken, not to mention my body becoming one creature and then another. He must have fucked me absolutely senseless for my pussy to still be so tender.

"I can feel your arousal, naughty pup," he growls down at me. "This is not what I was trying to do. You are supposed to be learning your lesson."

"I am learning a lesson," I whimper.

He chuckles. "Yes, I'm sure you are, but not the one I intended you to learn. You've learned that disobeying me gives you pleasure."

He doesn't seem angry at me for the revelation, but it soon turns out he also has absolutely no intention of letting that be what I learn. He hikes the knee of the leg that my hips are over up a little higher, wraps a strong arm firmly around my waist, and starts really spanking me with slaps that echo around the room.

It hurts now. But it also feels good. Because he still has two fingers inside me, and now my clit is pressing against the heel of his palm. He can spank me as hard as he wants. I want him to. It feels so damn good. I am gasping now, whining, writhing. I am getting closer and closer to orgasm.

I'm surprised he doesn't do anything to stop it. If he doesn't want me to experience pleasure, why are his fingers inside me while he spanks me? Why is he letting me rut my way to a very illicit orgasm?

I try to hold back as long as I can, not wanting to prove him right even though he is more right than anybody has ever been about anything. I want to be good, but I don't really even know what good is anymore.

In the end, good is following my desire and my need.

I come, my pussy clenching at his fingers so hard he must be able to feel it. I can feel him as my body tries to draw him deeper, wanting his cock and his seed. But he won't give me that. That would make me shift again.

There's a brief lull as the orgasm ripples begin to dissipate. I feel warmth and satisfaction. Everything and anything other than punished. A sense of smugness starts to settle into me too. Did I just get away with something? Did the big, mean, scary Cain Lupin just take mercy on me?

Smack!

No. No he did not.

With the pleasure fading, the pain starts to feel more immediate, more intense. His fingers are still inside me as he spanks me hard and fast. Now he is punishing both my ass and my pussy, making my aching sex squirm around his digits as his palm whips a steady tattoo.

I gasp and cry out as he makes whatever the original spanking was going to be into something much more intense and far more perverse. This feels like punishment.

"You're the kind of mate who takes pleasure in being disciplined. It's not uncommon, but it does mean you're going to suffer in different ways," Cain lectures me. "When you're a bad girl, I'm going to make sure I teach you the lesson you need to learn one way or another."

The ache between my legs has me right on the edge of pleasure and pain. I almost feel as though I could come again if this went on long enough, though I don't know if my ass could take it. I feel hot and swollen and wet and sore and sorry.

I want his mercy. I want him to tell me that he has forgiven me.

"Are you going to do as you're told in the future?"

Cain

"Yes!" She moans the answer.

I want to fuck her more than anything, but I know if I put my dick inside her, I'm going to come inside her, and I know if so much as a drop of my seminal fluid touches her well-fucked interior, she's going to shift again.

Holding back from fucking her right now after watching her come all over my fingers, her hot red ass gyrating with carnal need, is the hardest thing I might ever do. She's stunning. She's so innocent, but so responsive. She gave her virginity to me, and now she is giving me even more. She is showing me precisely how she is wired, how sorry and sore she is, and how much some part of her enjoys both those things.

I know I'm pushing her close to her limits now. I can feel her inner muscles gripping my fingers, trying to milk me for seed they don't have. She is a greedy little thing, my mate. Her body is full of desire.

I pull my fingers out of her pussy slowly, enjoying the way her lips grip me as I withdraw. I know she's not comfortable. I can see that in the hue of her cheeks, the proper deep red of her skin.

"I hope you have learned your lesson, or there will be more of this," I tell her.

She makes a half-coherent sound and lets out a little sigh that might be of relief. I am still fighting the urge to slide myself back into that hot, tight interior. She was quite literally made for me. Forces that were in effect long before either of us were conceived ordained us as mates. That's what my pack believes—and now I've met her, that's what I believe too.

I have had plenty of encounters with women before. I've never felt like this before. I've never felt this level of pure devotion and tenderness, mixed with the very real need to keep this young woman in her place.

It is time for her to go to bed. It has to be. Before I lose the last of what passes for my self-control.

I sit her up on my lap for a moment, brushing her messed up hair out of her eyes. "Are you okay?"

She meets my gaze very briefly before nodding just a little and lowering her eyes again. She's embarrassed. I put her arousal on display for both of us. I could have avoided mentioning it altogether, spanked her, and sent her to bed. But that would have done nothing besides leave her in a state of arousal that would have completely undermined the message I'm trying to send. Sexy as she is, she has to do as she is told.

"Good," I say.

She's stifling a little yawn. I can see her trying to resist it before she gives in. It's not easy to resist your impulses and instincts as a newly transformed shifter. She's going to be more impulsive than she's ever been, which is all the more reason to ensure my discipline is stringent.

"Time for bed." I slide her off my lap and slap her bottom lightly. She makes a little yelping sound and dashes for the bedroom, where she dives for the covers and pulls them up, almost acting as if she were never out of bed at all.

"I'm sorry," she squeaks softly. "I didn't mean to be bad."

This woman makes me melt.

"I know," I say, stroking her hair back from her face and cupping her cheek lightly. She is just so adorable. I know I will have to be strict and firm with her, but she makes it so I can damn near not bear it. I want to cuddle her close and take care of her tenderly. I want to protect her from all dangers. She is my mate, and there is no use denying it or trying to resist it. It is a law, as immutable as gravity.

"When I give you an order, you need to follow it," I say. My tone is already softer. "I don't want to punish you again."

She looks at me with those big, wide eyes, the blanket pulled up all the way to her nose by this point.

"You need to go to sleep," I tell her. "I will be here all night long, and tomorrow, we will talk about the rest of your life."

Her eyes, already wide, somehow flicker that little bit bigger. "The rest of my life?"

"We are mate bonded. It will be you and I, forever."

Kira

He says those words like holy vows. I think he takes them even more seriously. There is not a hint of anything besides complete devotion in his eyes and in his voice. Is this what love is? Something that can take you to your most painful depths and your greatest heights? I am both exhausted and ecstatic, too tired to act on the pure joy that is coursing through my veins, as well as the fear that is already trying to worm its way through the human parts of my mind. It might be nice to be loved, but he doesn't know me. He doesn't know that I don't deserve any of this.

I am exhausted. I am sore. I am feeling guilty for disobeying him. I know I should have stayed in bed. When I heard him leave the apartment, there was a pull for him, a yearning. It got me out of bed, and it almost took me out the front door.

I started watching television to distract myself from the yearning and the anxiety. Part of me felt as though I was a pup, left to fend for myself in the woods. It was an old fear, a primal one. One I haven't felt in a very long time. It disoriented me. The television was the only thing to connect me to the real world, to make me feel normal again.

I don't explain any of that. It would be far more humiliating to explain all those feelings than to be spanked and sent back to bed.

Orgasm aside, the punishment wasn't really that bad. I felt his displeasure, but I also felt his guidance. It was not anger that made him smack me. It was how insistent he is that I obey him. The old, normal part of me bristles against that. I am an independent woman. I've been looking after myself since I was basically a child. He might think I am some stray that wandered into his office and was transformed by his cock, but there is strength inside me that only a few people have ever seen.

"Close your eyes," he says, standing over me, tall, commanding. "Go to sleep."

I close my eyes.

I do as I am told.