Master's Retribution (BBW Paranormal Werewolf Shapeshifter Romance) (Master of the City) Read online

  “Harder,” she broke away to demand, a gasp of surprise escaping her as he did just that, slamming a hand into the bricks by her head hard enough to break a couple. He upped the pace, driving into her hard and fast. Delicious strokes had her eyes rolling back in her head. Tension rose, her body pulled so taut she felt like a bow-string about to snap. She just needed to hold on a little longer…

  Then he played dirty, pausing at the end of each stroke and rolling his hips when he was buried balls deep within her. The pressure caught her clit, trapping and pressing the nub of sensation. Pleasure coursed, radiating outward through her body like an all over shiver with every thrust and rock until she didn’t know which way was up and which was down. All she knew was that his cock was buried deeply within her and she never wanted it to stop.

  Then, abruptly, it was all too much. Pleasure arched her back, and her entire body sang as she waited for that one last thrust to send her over the edge.

  “God, Veyr…” She didn’t need to say anything else. His dark eyes caught hers for a second before he dropped his head. With another thrust, he buried himself in her, nipping and holding the sensitive scar on her neck as he rocked against her clit.

  She screamed his name as she shattered, coming hard over his cock. Growling, he held onto her shoulder as his movements sped up. Her pussy gripped and milked his shaft, the steady rhythm of his thrusts breaking down. They became harder, faster, more uncoordinated until, eventually, he slammed into her one last time. Throwing back his head, he howled his release to the night sky and bathed her inner walls with his white-hot seed.

  She smiled to herself, nestled against his hard, muscled body as they both recovered themselves. There was no way their guests hadn’t heard them. Whether any of them would have the balls to say anything though was an entirely different matter…

  2

  Her life was complete.

  Cyan sat back on the comfortable couch in the large sun room in the master’s wing of the court. On the top floor at the back of the building, it had an excellent view out over the gardens and was flooded with sunlight most of the day. It was her favorite place to spend time when her duties as the Lady of the City allowed.

  “And…up we go!” she smiled, her lap full of wriggling baby as she helped her daughter sit up and look around. Now six months old, Lily was the light of her life. With her father’s caramel eyes and Cyan’s dark hair, she was already a beauty, but the thin ring of amber in her eyes made Cyan the proudest. The daughter and granddaughter of an alpha, her wolf would be a strong one, not reticent like Cyan’s had been. The creature grumbled within, reminding her that now it was awake, it wasn’t so withdrawn.

  Lily giggled, looking around the room and waving at Margarite, one of Cyan’s ladies in waiting who often acted as a nanny.

  “She’s sitting up well now,” the younger woman commented, retrieving a fluffy bunny from the floor and waving it in front of Lily. She reached for it, babbling away in baby talk. “Oh, and she’s going to be a total chatterbox.”

  “Yeah. Just like her father,” Cyan agreed, bouncing her daughter gently on her knee.

  She’d caught them just the other night, father and daughter lying in the middle of the bed, Lily holding up the bunny rabbit now clutched in her small fist, animatedly telling her father a tale. He’d been chattering back happily, easily able to understand the baby talk. Her heart had melted on the spot at the sight of the ferocious alpha wrapped totally around his tiny daughter’s little finger.

  She cut a glance to Margarite, noting the rapt expression on the young woman’s face as she played with Lily.

  “Getting broody for some of your own?” she asked innocently, hiding her smile as Margarite started.

  “Oh… no. No, not at all. I’m not mated,” she said quickly. Too quickly.

  “What about that guard…” Cyan pretended to think for a moment. “The one Veyr promoted to captain after Jace became alpha of the McCauley pack? Hmmm… What was his name…”

  “Bryce.”

  The reply was quiet but swift. Cyan felt like punching the air in victory. She knew it, Margarite had a thing for Bryce. And from what she’d seen, the big wolf had a thing for her as well, if the fact that whenever she was in the room he couldn’t take his eyes off her was any indication.

  “Well…” She had been about to suggest a way the other woman could spend a little more time with the object of her interest, but a sound in the corridors outside the room caught her attention. It was faint, but it had sounded like someone choking…

  She lifted her head, bringing her wolf to the fore to scent the air around her. The smell of blood blossomed on the slight breeze from the open door. Blood and something else… wolves that didn’t belong here, and another, dry, dusty smell that sent shivers down her spine.

  There was someone in the court.

  Her heart lurching, Cyan surged to her feet. Whatever that scent was, it wasn’t good. Even her wolf didn’t know what it was… but the creature was right there under her skin, ready to battle. Another stifled scream reached their ears. A male scream, the sound of utter terror and then pain, both cut off abruptly with a horrific crunch.

  “Cyaaaaannn… Lady Cyaaaannnn…” The taunting voice froze the blood in her veins.

  She knew that voice. Jacob McCauley. The man who had tried to ruin her relationship with Veyr numerous times, the man who had beaten his own sister… the man who hated her for ruining his plans to mate that same sister to the Master of the City. To her Veyr.

  “Come out, come out… wherever you are.”

  Her gaze raced around the room. The room that had just seemed so light and airy now seemed like a cage. On the top floor, there was no way they could make it to the gardens, and the door was the only visible way in and out. By design. It wasn’t, however, the only way out of the room.

  The court was an old building, and whoever the architect was, he’d either had an obsessive case of paranoia or he’d been a big fan of history. The place was filled with bolt-holes and secret passages. Not long after she and Veyr had mated, he’d taken her on a little mystery tour of the court, showing her all the ones he knew.

  Her gaze fell on the bookcase by the fire. If the plaster paneling to the left was pressed in just the right way, it would slide open to reveal a narrow passageway.

  She turned to meet Margarite’s eyes. They were filled with fear, even though the girl tried her hardest to conceal it, and Cyan was forced to admit the truth. They weren’t all getting out of here. McCauley knew she was here and even if he didn’t, he was a werewolf. He’d be able to smell that the three hadn’t left the room by the door. He’d even be able to track them to the bookcase… and since he’d been an alpha at court, it wouldn’t take him long to work out there was a passageway behind the thing. As solid as the wood looked, it wouldn’t stand up to a pissed off and determined werewolf.

  Which meant they couldn’t all go, and while Margarite was a full wolf, she was definitely a beta. Cyan doubted she’d ever fought in either form. Besides… her spine straightened as her wolf snarled within. She was the Lady of the City and Margarite was hers to protect, not the other way around. If anyone had to stand and fight, it would be her.

  Decision made, she grabbed the younger woman’s arm and bundled her toward the bookcase. Hitting the paneling with her free hand, she watched as the bookcase slid open. A small gust of air welcomed them. Musty and filled with dust, it told the tale of cold stone and dampness, of dark areas between the walls of the old building where the sun didn’t reach.

  “Go,” she ordered, handing over Lily. “Take her and go. Run. Find Veyr and tell him McCauley is here.”

  Fear filled the girl’s eyes as her gaze darted between Cyan and the doorway across the room. “My lady, no.” She grabbed at Cyan’s arm, trying to pull her into the passageway. “He’s dangerous… you’ll get hurt.”

  Lily’s lip wobbled at the tension between the two adults. Cyan leaned forward quickly to kiss her, “Shhh,
babygirl, it’s going to be okay.”

  She transferred her gaze to Margarite and let her wolf fill her eyes, her voice calm even though she felt anything but. “Better that than he hurt all of us. Especially Lily. Now go!”

  The last word was an order, backed up with the full power of Cyan’s wolf as she pushed the two of them into the passageway and slapped the paneling again. The bookcase closed behind them with a soft snick, concealing them from view just as footsteps sounded in the corridor outside the door on the other side of the room.

  She turned, heart in her throat as Jacob McCauley appeared in the doorway, a nasty little smile on his face.

  “Well, well… Lady Cyan, what a pleasure to see you again.”

  She didn’t move, her ears straining for any sound from beyond the bookcase that would tip Jacob off, but there was nothing. Margarite was a beta wolf and quieter than a cat most of the time.

  “What do you want, Jacob?” she asked flatly, in no mood to exchange pleasantries. Whatever he had planned; it couldn’t be good. “You do know when Veyr finds out you’re here, you’re a dead wolf. Don’t you?”

  “I rather think it’s going to be the other way around.” He grinned as he walked into the room, a small group of hard-faced men, and one woman, following to fan out behind him. She shivered at the looks on their faces. Whoever they were, they looked like they’d had all compassion and empathy leached out of them.

  “And what do I want? You, my dear. I want you. You’re about to help me get back the city that should have been mine.”

  “Being mated really has slowed you two down. Either that or you’re both getting old… and fat.”

  Veyr growled as Bryce threw the insult and rapidly ducked as both wolves swung for him. As normal when training, they were fighting two on one, in this case both, marginally smaller men against the bigger, heavyset Bryce.

  Since all three had started in the illegal fight pits in the bowels of the city’s underworld, such a bout only slowed the solo fighter down minimally. They’d all cut their eye teeth on fighting multiple opponents. Those who couldn’t didn’t last long in the pits, their lives often counted in the seconds it took for them to be cut down. But the three had not only survived that hellhole, but they’d risen through to fight in the cages of the fight clubs. Then they’d followed Veyr when he’d become Master of the City.

  Now, they fought to keep their skills up, and, it seemed, to be insulted.

  “Fat?”

  “Old?”

  Bryce chuckled as they came at him from both sides, a practiced move they’d used thousands of times before. Easily, he dodged and weaved, moving quicker than any man that big had a right to.

  “See?” He flashed white teeth in a grin. “‘Bout time to draw your pensions, old men.”

  Veyr held back his own chuckle and winked at Jace. At the signal, the taller wolf wheeled away, leaving the floor to the two. Instantly, Veyr changed styles, moving in close and landing several blows before Bryce was even aware.

  “Fucking sneaky little…” the bigger wolf swore, almost falling over his feet as he backed up, desperately trying to block. But Veyr was too fast, slipping under his defenses and landing light slaps in place of the heavy blows he would normally use.

  Even pulling punches as he was, it felt good to move at something near his full speed. It was something he’d never dare do with anyone but their small circle. No one else would be capable of taking such blows, even lightly, and walking away unharmed.

  Just for a moment, he allowed himself to let go, allowed himself the luxury of letting the darkness within him free, if only for a second. The darker side of his wolf, the vicious lethality that had allowed him to rise from the pits and take on the former Master of the City, blazed into life, howling at the temporary release as he danced around Bryce. Sensing the difference, the bigger wolf snarled and his eyes flared amber as he, too, let go of control on his wolf.

  The pace of the fight sped up. Bryce’s fists were slower than Veyr’s, but Veyr couldn’t afford to drop his guard. Bryce was a big bastard, with a punch that could knock holes in steel… if he landed a blow.

  Veyr didn’t intend to let that happen. It wouldn’t incapacitate him—his wolf would heal the damage quickly—but the rib-taking he’d receive from the other two until the bruises healed would make his life a living hell.

  The battle raged, Veyr leaping back as Bryce set up for a punch combination that would have broken most of the ribs on the left side of his body. Turning, he ran at a nearby wall, leaping at it to use the vertical surface to push off from as he whipped his other leg around. The front of his shin hammered into Bryce’s forearms, hastily lifted to protect his face. The kick surprised him and he lost his footing.

  With a growl of triumph, Veyr followed him down to the floor, using surprise to grab his arm and wrap his legs around the bigger wolf’s shoulders. Falling back, he hyper-extended both joints until they creaked. The whole move had taken less than two seconds.

  “Whoa, I’m done, man.” Bryce slapped the floor hurriedly, his voice strained. “You got me. Fuck’s sake, someone piss in your cereal this morning or something?”

  The deep sound of male laughter filled the training room. It was a large hall toward the back of the left wing of the court. From the window, they could see the roof of the guard barracks, less than a stone’s throw away.

  Veyr let go and rolled to his feet, holding out a hand to help Bryce back up. He took it, a grumble in the back of his throat, and he rolled his shoulder as Veyr hauled him upright. “Thanks for leaving me in one piece. I’m supposed to be protecting you, remember? Doesn’t work if you break me first, ‘kay?”

  Veyr’s eyebrow winged up. “You mean you can’t have it be known that an… what did you call me? Ah, yes… an ‘old’ man ‘one step from retirement’ handed you your ass on a plate.”

  “That too.” Bryce grinned, amusement in his dark eyes, all hint of his wolf hidden within. He checked his watch and whistled. “Sorry, brothers, I gotta go scream at some recruits. Same time, same place tomorrow?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it. Bring some recruits tomorrow?” Veyr winked. “They might give us more of a workout than your lazy ass.”

  Bryce chuckled, reaching down to grab his towel and water bottle from the floor by the wall when the door crashed inward. The slender figure of a woman with a baby in her arms hurtled through it.

  “Enemy in the court…” Margarite gasped as she slid to a stop, the baby in her arms, Lily, crying. Margarite’s frantic gaze latched onto Veyr. “They have Lady Cyan. Oh my god, they have the lady. I’m so sorry!”

  3

  Cyan didn’t stand a chance against Jacob’s cadre of heavies and she knew it. So when they grabbed her, she went along quietly, if not entirely willingly. They moved through the court quickly and confidently, using back corridors and secret passages in silence, which told her that they’d been planning this for a while. Not once did she notice any of them looking lost or confused.

  Instead, they moved as a tight knit group, pausing every so often to listen or before they turned corners. An aura of readiness and danger surrounded them, their grim but neutral expressions said this was just a normal day for them. None spoke, communicating with each other using quick hand gestures and glances. If she had to guess, they were military trained…all that was missing were guns in their hands… and they were shifters of some type. She’d bet her life on it. Nothing moved like a shifter. They had a grace and bearing that was unmistakable.

  All apart from the woman.

  Like Jacob, she stood apart from the group of men surrounding Cyan, and if she was a shifter, Cyan would eat her hat. She wasn’t human either, that was for sure, but something else. Something that made all the hairs on the back of Cyan’s neck rise, her wolf snarling in the back of her mind. The sound was low and ominous, filling every cell with energy as she watched the woman out of the corner of her eye. Of them all, she was the most dangerous. Cyan would bet her life on it.
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  Ahead of the group, Jacob chattered away.

  “He’ll have never seen me coming,” he crowed, his tone smug and triumphant. “My victory was assured. I mean, how could a mongrel possibly stand against me? A pureblood wolf? I was born to rule this city. I would have as well, if he hadn’t challenged Rigor. I was so close to challenging the old bastard myself, and I would have beaten him… become master… if that asshole mongrel hadn’t pipped me at the post.”

  Cyan fought the impulse to roll her eyes. She didn’t reply. There wasn’t any need to since Jacob carried on his monologue. Mostly the theme seemed to be how hard done to he was, and how the world had conspired against him and robbed him of what he considered was rightfully his.

  Within minutes, the corridors and passageways of the court gave way to dank staircases and dark tunnels as they descended into the earth below.

  Cyan couldn’t help looking around with wide eyes. The catacombs. She’d known they were down here but had refused to set foot in them, especially when Veyr had revealed that they’d been burying people down here until a couple of decades ago.

  While graveyards as a rule didn’t bother her, that was a wide open space… being crammed in here in the darkness with all those dead bodies. She shivered and moved closer to the guy next to her. He cast her a glance but didn’t comment, perhaps feeling a little of the same chill she did.

  “Yes… this will work nicely,” Jacob announced as the corridor opened into a low-ceilinged, vaulted chamber. She squinted her eyes, trying to see the back of the room in the darkness, but failed. As a werewolf, her eyesight was good, but not that good. She needed something, a little moonlight or another light source to make things out.