Or like someone who’s wolf-bound and doesn’t know any better.
Nevertheless, I feel myself clench down below with an ache that feels, even to my thirty-year-old virgin mind, very sexual. Which is wrong. So, so wrong. Because this guy is wolf-bound. Plus, he really, really needs a doctor.
Oh God, I’ve got to get away. From him. From this. I try to slither out from underneath him.
And that’s when he flips me over again. This time onto my stomach.
What the…?
“Wait! Don’t…!” I start to get up onto my knees, only to have a large hand shove me back down flat.
Weirdly, I’m reminded of when I turned seventeen. The age when the girls in our pack get their first brand so everyone knows exactly where they belong. I can almost feel Yancey’s foot on my back, holding me down as he sears the Dark Wolf symbol into my right shoulder.
Don’t you dare fucking cry when you get your mark, my father told me before the ceremony. And you better not shift. Represent your fucking family!#p#分页标题#e#
I hadn’t cried. I hadn’t shifted. I’d taken it like a Greenwolf, like you’d expect from the princess of a mange biker pack.
Then I disappeared into my rooms to recover and pretty much never came out again unless specifically requested. For over twelve years, I pretended I was some other wolf. Not a princess. Not a girl, even. Just a game designer with a product to sell. Like the brand on my shoulder never happened.
But now I’m back on my stomach. And it feels like the brand is blistering on my back as I struggle beneath the large body holding me down.
I can feel his naked member, big and heavy against my back, as his wide, clumsy hands claw against the sides of my pants, trying to get them down.
“Get off of me!” I struggle against him, kicking a heel back into his leg with my high tops. “Get the hell off me!”
Then I scream out, “Help! Somebody help!”
12
Fenrisson is not surprised to be met by a group of male wolves, all pointing weapons at him when he emerges from the dark forest between the time gate and the mountain’s manmade trail. In fact, he feels rather oddly prepared for the moment…thanks to his foreign-born mother.
He immediately drops his Gotar king sword and raises his hands into the air saying, “Don’t tranq me, bro,” just as she taught him he must if ever he should encounter this very situation.
The thinnest of the three male wolves before him lowers his weapon with a perplexed and slightly amused expression on his face. “Let me guess, you must be FJ.”
Yes, FJ, as only his mother and sister call him in private. Two letters in his mother’s native tongue. Short for Fenris Junior. Which brings him to realize two things forthwith: he must be in his mother’s time and he probably needs to get used to the idea of being called FJ, at least for now.
Also, he recognizes the wolf who has called him by his barn nafn. “And you are Rafe, Fenrir of Colorado, father of Rafesson, mate of Aunt Alisha, and the slaughterer who did vanquish two of our finest warriors for the sole purpose of claiming your mate.”
The other two males turn to Fenrir Rafe.
“You did what?” asks the one with the shaved head and tattoos upon his face. “And what the hell is a fenrir?”
Fenrir Rafe rolls his eyes in much the same manner as FJ’s mother.
“Yeah, that’s me,” he says to FJ, then looks to the tattooed male. “A fenrir is what they call a shifter king, in order to distinguish them from regular Viking kings. It’s got something to do with how they thought, uh…think wolves were created by the Norse wolf god, Fenrir. But Fenris is also his name and his father’s name, not just a title. Did I get that right?” He shifts his gaze back to FJ.
“I see you remember well the custom of our land, Fenrir Rafe.” FJ answers with a bow of his head.
“Well, it’s not too hard to do. Your play aunt, Alisha, wrote a whole book about it a few years ago, and I read it from front to back.” His eyes narrow. “But I’m getting the feeling it’s been more than a few years for you. The last time I saw you, you were a skinny teenager.”
“Teenager,” FJ repeats, feeling the strange word upon his tongue. “This is not a word my mother has taught me.”
“Not a child, but not yet a man. Like an older boy. In-between.”
FJ nods but he still does not completely understand. In his land, there are only boys and men. No in-between. Nevertheless, “I was six-and-ten winters when I witnessed your great feats,” FJ answers. “I am a man now, five-and-thirty winters.”#p#分页标题#e#