Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

Gray

" I s it a good idea to leave him alone?" Drake asks as I call one of the deckhands over to ensure the hold door is securely locked.

"I have no fucking idea," I say. "But there's only so much damage he can do down there."

"Hmm," he says.

"What does that mean?" I demand. The crew are busy. We are closing in on the port where we will take to land again. I cannot wait to get off the fucking ship. I hate the sea almost as much as I hate Bleakness, and I do not like Bleakness at all.

The air carries a familiar breeze. Although we still have much travel ahead of us once we reach solid ground, home is calling to me. It feels like forever since we left our pack lands. The culmination of a year's travel. And so much that has happened in between.

"You could have helped him more," he says.

"Fine, I could have helped him more." I shrug. "He's also lucky I didn't rip his throat out."

Drake chuckles. He does not take much seriously. Except for my former promised mate… and my younger brother, it would seem.

He has been working through his own issues.

I'm relieved to have him here with me. Drake has always been a good second to me. He has supported me without question and pointed out with honesty when I have been an idiot, which has been more frequent of late.

He is not a blood brother but a pack brother, and that is closer in many ways.

The door to the captain's cabin opens, and a bedraggled Ada steps out wrapped up in a voluminous fur.

"What the fuck is she doing outside? Who unlocked the fucking door?" I roar at the nearest deckhand.

He starts to stammer a response, sees my mate charging toward me with murder in her eyes, and promptly shuts up and scurries away.

Drake chuckles again. "I'll leave you to it, then."

I don't acknowledge him leaving, as I have eyes only for my furious mate. "What are you doing out here, lass?" I meet her halfway, taking her by the arm, wanting nothing more than to get her out of sight. We are on a ship full of lusty males starved of female companionship.

She rips her arm out of my grasp with surprising ease, her eyes spitting daggers. Rounding on me, she pokes me in the chest.

I look down at her tiny, surprisingly bony finger.

"Where is Callum?" she demands.

"He is having some quality alone time," I say, my gaze settling on the fur she has wrapped around herself, which threatens to slip from her breasts… Gods, she is beautiful… and hot. I am as obsessed with the woman as I am with her delectable body.

She hisses through her teeth. "He does not need alone time!"

I blink, dragging my mind from lusty considerations of the public claiming that will be expected when we return to the pack. She is staring out to sea like I might have dropped him overboard.

"This is bollocks. If you have thrown him overboard, I will cut off your balls and feed them to you."

I grimace. Even though I don't believe she is capable of such a macabre act, it still makes certain parts of me shrivel in fear. Also, I have never even heard her curse before. Where the fuck did she learn that word? I don't even know how it might have happened, but I have a strong suspicion Lizbeth is somehow involved in Ada developing a filthy mouth. I will have words with Drake…

She pokes me again, rightfully sensing my mind has drifted. The fur covering her shifts. I both hate and hope that it might fully expose the swell of her plump breast.

The third poke is savage and accompanied by her stomping her foot.

I remember when she used to be a shy tavern wench, blushing when she approached my table and stammering over her words. Now look at her: gloriously feisty, standing up to a male many times her power and size, and utterly fearless.

I fell in love with her shy presence. I fall deeper in love with the woman she has grown into and become.

"I have not tossed him over the side, lass," I say, seeking to calm her. "As you rightly surmised from the very start, in hurting him, I would hurt you. And I would sooner… let you cut off my balls and feed them to me than hurt you." I shudder. That was not the best choice to get my point across.

I curl my hand around hers, removing the poky finger and bringing her knuckles to my lips. It disarms her briefly before she snatches her hand away and slaps me across the face.

I blink a few times. For a tiny lass, she has a hefty strike when she has a mind to.

"I want to see him right now."

"He is not available." I don't like her being out here where it is cold—her naked toes must be freezing. "We should go back to the cabin. We shall be docking in the morning, and you can see him then."

"No. I shall not go anywhere. Not until I see Callum with my own eyes—Oh!"

I toss her over my shoulder and march for the cabin. She beats on my back, strains for freedom, and finally screeches with her fury.

"Quieten down, wench." I slap her ass. Striding through the door, I turn and shove the bolt across. It is high, and she cannot reach it without climbing on a chair… which is why I had all the chairs removed.

She does not quieten down. If anything, she gets worse.

Ada

"Fine," he says, after he bolts the door, his tone an ominous kind of calm that sets butterflies to flight in my traitorous belly. "If you are not willing to be reasonable. I have no choice but to spank some respect into your deserving behind and then rut you until you do."

"S-spank me?"

I hang over his shoulder as he strides for the bedding nook.

I can't believe I slapped him—I don't even know why I did. It was wrong of me. Didn't my time with my father teach me about striking in anger? Deep down, I know he would never hurt Callum, but everything has gotten muddled up in my mind. When I am close to him, I feel an insatiable need to couple that is so intense it consumes all my thoughts and actions.

It is very distracting.

Also, he should have told me straight away that Callum was well instead of staring at my breasts like he was thinking of unwrapping me and devouring them on the ship's deck, where anyone might have seen.

"I am sorry I slapped you," I say as he comes to an abrupt stop.

Then I tumble as he drops me unceremoniously onto the bed. I cling to my fur covering as I push my hair from my face and glare at him. "You will not spank me."

He grins. It is a little sinister… and a little wolfish, and it makes my pussy flutter with interest. From the moment he entered the tavern, I have been drawn to him in ways I cannot explain. Yet now, as I stare up at this magnificent male, I realize what I feel toward him is far more complex than mere infatuation.

"This is for your own good," he says, his voice a low purr.

"I do not believe you," I mutter, but he is already taking my arm, sitting, and tossing me over his muscular thighs.

The fur I cling to is ripped away. It lands with a soft whoosh several paces away.

"You do not cover your body from me." He cups my ass, making me squirm a little. "This ass is mine. Mine to look at. Mine to touch. Mine to punish if you behave like a brat."

Spank!

The sound shocks me more than being painful. It is more of a light sting.

"You cannot punish me when I said I was sorry," I protest. "This is also bollocks!"

Did I just hear him chuckle?

Spank!

"You have a filthy fucking mouth... And I couldn't give a fuck that you slapped me, wench. Slap me, bite me, rake your nails over me as you see fit. I will wear your marks of claiming with pride."

Spank!

"That is not a claiming mark!"

Spank!

"You know nothing of wolves. We prefer our wenches feisty and like nothing more than a tussle when it comes to matters of claiming and rutting."

Spank!

"But I have told you Callum is unharmed, and you refused to see reason."

Spank! Spank! Spank!

I am still pondering the word tussle and how it lights a spark inside me. I kick out and receive a series of sharp, fast spanks to my upper thighs that I do not like one bit.

"You are a savage!"

He chuckles and pauses to cup my ass. It is no longer merely stinging. It is like the stings have merged to produce heat and one giant sensation that is definitely not pleasant.

I fidget.

His fingers slide down, finding the wetness that gathers, and I go perfectly still as pleasure blooms.

He makes a tutting noise. "You are a naughty wench." He thrusts a finger inside—I gasp at the jolt as all the little nerves inside flutter and quake. "A naughty, filthy little girl who very much enjoyed her discipline and, further, is already thinking about my dick." He adds a second finger and begins to thrust them wetly in and out. The debauched noises bring heat to my cheeks. "Thinking about how it will stretch this drenched pussy and might even hurt a little, for you are all sore and swollen from my constant rutting."

Goddess help me. I am about to come…

He stops.

"What? Oh, please don't stop!"

He spanks my ass sharply.

I yelp.

"This is a punishment. I should have known a lusty lass like you would get off on it. Happen this might be another ass fucking time. Even though you will doubtless get off on that, too."

I bite my lip lest my needy whimper escape me. Try as I might to convince myself that the ass rutting was deviant, and I did not like it one bit, I know it for a lie.

"You have gone very quiet," he says, sliding his wet fingers toward my ass.

My entire being clenches in anticipation. I should try to stop him. A good girl would stop him. Only I am not a good girl anymore, as he has already pointed out. I am filthy and lusty, and I am already anticipating the dark, twisty stretch as he breaches me there.

He pushes two fingers inside.

"Um! Oh! Goddess."

It burns. It makes me all urgent inside. My pussy and ass clench in tandem, and the dark pleasure ignites.

I moan helplessly as he fucks my ass slowly with his fingers.

"Gods, you were made for this—my perfect mate. Soon, when Callum decides to stop acting like a whelp who has lost his favorite toy, we shall take you together. One cock filling your needy pussy, and one filling your ass."

"I-oh-Goddess!" I come. My ass flutters all over his thrusting fingers. It spirals out from my ass to my pussy, clit, and all the way to my nipples until I am nothing but a ball of twitching pleasure.

His low growl is all the warning my dazed mind gets before I am dropped face down on the bed. With his hands on my hips, he drags my ass back and up… and spears my ass with his cock.

I am oversensitive, and my eyes roll back in my head as I linger somewhere between the burning stretch and tormented pleasure.

"Hush, lass." He strokes his fingers through my hair and purrs in a soothing gesture at odds with his savage penetration.

"Umm. Numm!"

I grunt unintelligible nonsense into the fur.

His purr dips in a way that makes my ass squeeze—I groan.

"Impatient mate," he says, affection in his voice even as he begins to rut my ass.

Gibberish pours from my lips. I am a vessel for his deviant lusts.

Pinpricks dance across my flesh. My body rises again with every hefty thrust as he takes pleasure from me.

I hate that he makes me enjoy this.

I also love that it makes me feel so thoroughly his, so perfectly claimed.

I am here because he took me, but also because I want to be.

As he ruts me with all his savagery, I recognize that I am exactly where I belong.

Gray

She comes powerfully as I fuck her ass. It tips me straight over with her, and I empty my seed into her deserving ass.

Gods. I fucking love her ass.

But now she is adorably sleepy, and I clean us both up and then take a rare moment to enjoy her all to myself, placing her limp body against mine with her cheek to my chest.

I purr for her. There is surely no greater joy for a male than seeing his well-fucked mate soften into sleep.

I drift with her into slumber, only to be roused when a commotion comes from beyond the door. It stirs my body to instant alert and sets my mind rushing.

Damn whelp! I thought it would take longer.

"What is it?" Ada demands, lifting a sleepy head and looking about.

"Stay here," I say, already rising from the bed. My body coils, ready to shift.

I don't get a chance as the cabin door explodes clear off its hinges, shards of wood flying across the room.

In the gap stands a raging wolven.

Fuck!

No one has seen a royal shifter for more than a century. I had forgotten those rumors about them—how they are bigger and stronger, a different creature entirely from my half-shift beast.

I was not fucking prepared.

He is a wall of feral flesh.

He is also very fucking pissed.

Ducking low, he batters his way in, taking out a good portion of the door frame in the process—he is that fucking big.

With his arms spread wide, he roars at me.

"Goddess," Ada says weakly. "Is that… is that Callum?"

She knows.

He prowls deeper into the room, barely fitting beneath the rafters, even stooped, a giant beast radiating primal menace.

His head swings my way, and he roars again, daring me to challenge him—daring me to intervene.

I don't move lest I provoke him. He is new to this form and could harm me. More importantly, he could harm Ada should I dare to challenge him.

His nostrils flare, and he pivots toward Ada. In a single low bound, he is on her, snatching her to his chest. His low growl is another warning to me.

I am not fucking stupid. I have been taunting him for many days, rutting his mate in front of him. This is the consequence.

I wanted to push the man and beast to their limits and did so recklessly, in part to get the measure of them, for my wolf and I are as bound to them as we are to Ada. More than that, I wanted to punish him for nothing more than claiming her first, convincing myself he was less than worthy: too young, too nice, too weak to deserve such a sweet and spirited lass.

I was wrong on every count.

And with every passing day, layers of him were revealed.

I wanted reasons to despise him because, the truth is, I despise myself for my handling of this. For a man who prides himself on intuition, I have been blinded by my own sense of inadequacy and allowed it to dictate my actions.

As he stands before me, a hulking monster, I see how gently he holds her despite his great strength. He turns slightly to put himself between her and the source of danger, which his primal side deems to be me.

If I can admit now that I was bitter about circumstances that almost led me to walk away from my fated mate and that I wanted to hate him, then I can also admit that the emotions that consume me now are unmistakably those of pride.

He could hurt me, punish me, kill me with ease if he wanted to. His beast will be riding him hard, telling him to eliminate the threat.

But no, with actions, the same measured actions I have heard tales of or seen with my own eyes, he shows me he is noble in ways as much as blood.

Sinking low, he bounds out of the room.

I follow in time to see him jump through the shattered hold door.

The crew stands agape.

"Wha' do ye wants us t' do, Master Gray?" the captain asks me.

"Nothing," I say, and shifting to my beast form, I follow.