Colorblind (Moonlight) (28 page)

“Armand!” she cried out. A hint of pain reverberated through her body before she moaned and sank even farther down. His hand tightened against her hip, effectively stopping her from taking his length. She was tight and he was large. He did not doubt he was hurting her.

A smaller hand tugged at his, and Armand spoke. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She shook her head. “Not hurtin’ me.”

He slid against her mind and saw she was both lying and telling the truth. She was hurting, but her pleasure was made heightened after it. Armand blinked in surprise and released her hip. She sank even lower, crying out before moaning. Before he could fully think it through, he sat up, crushed his lips to hers, and began to move her. She locked her arms around his back as blunt nails dug as deep. He wrapped a hand in her hair, moaning at the silken feel of her curls and the way her center clutched him in response.

Her hips began to work over him without prompting, and as she moved faster, Armand growled. He’d been intent on introducing her to lovemaking, showing her a gentle lover. But this was…wild, almost savage.

In the midst of this intensity, his wolf reared its head. Powerless to stop it, he gave himself over, knowing he would never hurt her but praying that when this was over, she wasn’t terrified of him.

One moment she was riding him, and the next, her back was against the sheets and he was over her, the hardness of his chest mashing into her breasts.

Julia blinked, struggling to bring her breathing under control. It was so fast, so wild. She moved on instinct, unsure where it came from but needing to work her hips as she did. And the pleasure…it was even better than when he’d kissed her intimately. Better than anything she’d felt, having him deep inside like this.

Never had she wanted anyone there before. She’d tolerated, but never wanted. He shifted against her, going deeper, and she whimpered. A feral sound left Armand’s lips and she pulled his head down to hers, gasping as something nicked her lip. She turned her head aside and licked the spot, realizing he’d bitten her. Instead of pulling away, as a part of her wanted, she returned her mouth to his, so far gone she didn’t care about those two pointed teeth her tongue stroked.

His lower body surged back and she cried out, fearing he would leave her. Moments later, he came into her again and she screamed. There was pain, but the pleasure overrode it. She ground her hips against him, eager for more. As he reared back again, she turned her head aside, waiting for him to come back into her. He didn’t disappoint. She lost count of how many times he did that. The fire inside her built quickly, and when she finally exploded, she bit down on the closest thing to her mouth: his shoulder. His teeth grazed the spot that joined her neck and shoulder, and moments later, he returned the favor.

As pain-laced-pleasure shrouded her, she screamed. Seconds later, she was floating from her body again.

***

Hours later, Armand awoke to a different type of racket. Julia was still asleep but with his heightened hearing, he heard a voice as familiar as his own. His brother’s. Just not the one he was expecting. He detangled himself from soft limbs and dressed quickly, throwing on the discarded trousers and a fresh shirt before making his way from the room.

In the hallway, directly before the door, Maud and the one of the men were trying to explain to Leon that Armand was asleep, but his brother was determined. Only determination and something serious would make him leave his plantation in Louisiana for Georgia.

“Leon,” he greeted him, his voice ringing with authority. His brother didn’t look in his right mind either. Anger and pain rolled from him in waves. The need to lash out was strong.

“We need to talk,” was his brother’s response. His voice sounded strained.

“Yes.”

Armand dismissed Maud and the other man, telling them to return to their beds. It was still early in the morning. He began walking to his office, trusting Leon would follow.

Once they were alone, his brother spoke. “Patrick Ryder has Penny and Étienne. He has a plantation somewhere in Georgia. Where?”

“Someone has Étienne?” Armand asked, confusion at his brother’s arrival making him perhaps slower than usual.

Leon snarled. “He has my mate and my brother! I need to know where this plantation is, and I need you to take me there.”

Armand didn’t take offense at Leon’s tone. His brother was noticeably upset. “How long?”

“Six days now.” Leon released a ragged breath. “Étienne is injured. Shot.”

Armand felt his rage grow. Although they were all the same age, Étienne was always treated like the baby. It was due to his inability to stay serious for very long. “How?”

“He was bringing them to you, Penny and Jolie. The wagon was ambushed. Hunters with silver bullets.”

He cursed then. “And you’re certain it’s Patrick Ryder?”

“Positive,” Leon snarled, before passing Armand a lethal glare. “He’s my kill. Understand?”

Nodding once, Armand continued, “You’re sure he’s in Georgia?”

Leon passed him a haunted glance and replied, “He only has property in Louisiana and Georgia. It’s possible he’s staying with someone, but my instincts tell me he is here.”

“I’ll find out the location of his plantation,” Armand swore. He was heading for the door when he halted and looked back to his brother. Leon’s face was haunted, and Armand knew he feared it was too late. He hoped not. Still, he had to ask this question, if only for the sleeping woman upstairs. “What happened to Jolie?”

“She’s in Louisiana. Alive.”

He nodded and left, glad for that. Julia was fragile, and learning that something terrible had happened to the sister, for whom she’d willingly give up her freedom, would break her.

***

Étienne hissed in pain as his claws sliced into the tender flesh surrounding the wound in his hip. Lying on his side, the rough bars of the cage eating into his skin, he could barely see as he worked, but he had to remove the bullet. For every second it remained in his flesh, he weakened. And now that he’d used the last of his strength to shift into his human self, he might as well put his hands to use.

Hours ago, Ryder had made him do something he’d sworn never to do in a human’s presence:
change.
The human might have never figured out his weakness if not for the witch, but once the seed was planted, it had taken root.

Both men had left the room, leaving Étienne to think of exactly what would happen next. He couldn’t have imagined it. While he’d known that Ryder would go after Penny, try to lure him into the change with her, he hadn’t been prepared for exactly how far the man would go.

As he’d watched, Penny was laid out on the floor.

“Wake her up, boy!” Ryder had yelled to the slave who’d brought her. When the man had only looked confused, Ryder had leaned down, grabbed Penny’s hair, and slapped her.

She didn’t so much as groan, but angry adrenaline had rushed Étienne enough that he’d found his footing, wishing bars did not separate him from the man.

“You can stop this,” Ryder had said, grinning with the knowledge that he was affecting him. “Change and I’ll stop.”

Étienne held out stubbornly and though no one hit Penny anymore, what Ryder did next prompted the change.

He’d ordered the slave to lift her gown and remove her undergarments.

Even the witch had been repulsed by the order, but Ryder had cut him off. The slave, who looked terrified, had been threatened with the removal of his genitals and as Étienne watched, the man had kneeled and reached for Penny’s gown.

Unwilling to find out just how far the sick bastard was willing to go, Étienne had used the last of his energy to change.

“I told you, Cronin!” Ryder’s excited voice had called from a distance. “Everyone will believe me now.”

He’d passed out soon after, praying his change had saved his brother’s mate from a vile fate. His claws closed around the bullet and he bit into his cheek to keep from crying out. The metal was lodged in his flesh, which had begun healing around it. With a definite jerk, he pulled it out, tearing out a chunk of leg and almost passing out for his efforts.

It would take hours for the poison to fully leave his system. The time would be even faster if he had something to eat. Ryder had only given him water. He was starving. He eyed the bars of the cage. Concrete. It was easier to break concrete than steel but he hadn’t the strength.

Somehow, he had to get it back. Leon had given him a task, to protect his mate, and he intended to see that through.

***

Penny had been awake for hours now, but she refused to move. Lying next to her, his sweat-filled stench making her nauseous, was Patrick Ryder. She had no idea where she was, or how she’d gotten there but the mere fact that her hands were shackled to the bed screamed danger. Ryder sleeping next to her only confirmed it.

The last thing she remembered was traveling with Étienne and Jolie. She’d been bitten by something. A mosquito. And then she’d woken up here. Next to Patrick Ryder.

She shifted, moving her arms before they fell asleep. The movement jerked the shackles against the bed posts noisily and Ryder moved.

Closing her eyes, Penny listened. His breathing changed and he lifted up. His hand touched her cheek, almost gently, and he called her name. She did not answer. Moments later, a sharp pain assaulted her skull and she winced. The pain left as Ryder released her hair.

“I knew you were awake,” he murmured, close enough for his foul breath to stifle her.

“Where am I?”

He chuckled, running his finger down her neck and onto her chest. She sneered at him and yanked on the chains.

“Where no one can hear you scream,” was his response.

Ice ran through her blood but she tried to keep her unease from showing.

“Are you like your white friend?” The way he said friend made it clear he didn’t think that was possible. “Can you change, Penny?”

His hand slid farther down until he was cupping her breast. She gagged, disgusted.

“Is that why you were so rebellious? Why Adam Thorn couldn’t break you? Because you’re one of them?”

His hands moved farther down, tugging at the dress until she felt his clammy hands on her thigh. It was then she realized something. Her undergarments were no longer there. Why?

As if hearing her unasked question, Ryder answered, “I removed them. I’ve waited long to see you, touch you.” His hand slid farther up. “I’m glad you’re awake, Penny. Now I can thoroughly explore you in ways you never imagined.”

“Don’t,” she hissed.

His hand clamped down on her upper thigh, squeezing painfully as he asked, “Are you just a nigger, Penny, or are you more?”

She tugged at her arms, bucking until he released her and moved back. He chuckled.

“I knew you would fight.” He moved from the bed, his gaze trained on her as he unbuttoned his cuffs and the buttons at the top of his shirt. Penny knew his intent. It was all around her. The handcuffs, the bed, the disgusting scent of his arousal.

She watched and waited. The shirt fell to the ground, revealing a chest matted with gray hair and a rounded belly. She yanked on the chains once more.

“Just a feisty nigger, aren’t you?” The words were said humorously.

He undid his trousers next, and when they dropped, she yanked once more against the chains.

They did not break.

***

“Yes, fight me, Penny.” The bed dipped under his weight as he began a slow crawl toward her. “Fight me.” As he’d known she would. Even chained to his bed, she didn’t cower. Patrick Ryder had broken strapping men with just a look, but this girl, she would fight him. Possibly until the end.

His sex swelled as he pictured the things he would do to her. The rebellious ones he enjoyed tying up, forcing them to take him over and over until their eyes became glazed and unseeing. Although he enjoyed the show of spirit, they all had to be broken. Like wild horses, they needed this to understand their places, beneath him.

It would take more to break her. He sensed it. A violation of her body would only enrage her further. A beating would do the same. But there had to be something. Something to dull the hatred in those eyes, to make her beg him for her mercy.

He laughed softly. Whatever it was, he was going to enjoy finding it.

Without preamble, he sank his hands into the bodice of the gown and ripped downward. A jerky cry left her lips as the material cut into her skin and he chuckled. Already, she was breaking….

As he parted the tattered material, he licked his lips. Her breasts were full and high, tipped with dark nipples. They were the prettiest breasts he’d seen on a nigra.

He squeezed one, testing the weight, and relished her wince.

Content, he leaned close to her ear. “Do you enjoy feeling helpless? I’m going to take you in every orifice.” He licked her cheek, moaning at the salty-sweet taste of her skin. “Do you know what an orifice is—”

His words died as pain lanced his throat. Instantly, he scrambled back, grabbing his throat and holding it. His hands grew wet. Sticky. Removing one, he stared at it in horror. Even in the soft moonlight, he could see the color. Red. Blood stained his hands.

“Help,” he cried, but no sound emerged. He looked around, searching for someone to contact but only saw Penny. Penny, who was now grinning, Penny, whose lips and teeth were stained the color of his hands, Penny, who spat something from her mouth with disgust.

Brain scrambling to make sense of it, Patrick Ryder realized he’d been tricked. Penny was an animal. Like the man downstairs. He’d dismissed her as a wild nigger to be broken, and she’d only been waiting for him to get close. Aisha was right. The rumors, too.

A bright flash briefly blinded him and she was gone. In her space was a sleek, black wolf, who was glowering at him with the most feral yellow eyes.

***

The shackles fell away from sleek limbs, crashing harmlessly against the headboard as she scrambled to a crouch.

Ryder’s eyes hinted at his confusion and terror as he stared at the body of the black wolf.

“I killed you.” His lips moved but no sound emerged.