Pretty Poison (5 page)

Tired and spent, Noah surrendered again. He closed his eyes and the alpha began to rub. “My leg is fine,” Noah said in sleepy protest.

“Just making sure it will be after I wake you to fuck again,” Wade said, magical fingers soothing exhausted muscle. “None will be as thoroughly mated as you when the sun rises.” He chuckled at Noah’s quiver. “Rest, little wolf. You’ll need it.”

Chapter Three

Shaking from the orgasm Wade had pulled from him, Noah lay on his stomach while Wade leaned over him, soft caress mapping the muscles of his shoulders. The alpha’s cum yet dripped from his ass.

“Stop squirming,” Wade whispered. “Our mating bond is strengthening; I can sense that you aren’t hurting.”

“I’m messy. And uncomfortable,” Noah said, his nose wrinkling at the wet pool of cum beneath him, chilling his belly.

The shifter chuckled, the husky notes doing strange and taunting laps inside Noah’s cum-soaked stomach. “After I catch my breath, I’ll make you messier yet.”

“If you fuck me again, I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” He scowled into the darkness of Wade’s bedroom, mentally inventorying the minor aches and throbs. “Even if you give me my braces.”

“I’ll return your infernal contraptions.” Wade patted his ass. “And you
will
walk. When I call, you’ll come to me. Your pride will demand it.”

His irritation mounted because Noah knew the alpha spoke true. How many times had Noah hurt himself, setting his recovery back because his stubborn pride pushed his legs too hard and too far? Funny, even his bad right knee didn’t shriek with the misery that should’ve been pulsing through it. Wade hadn’t been easy with him. Once the shifter yanked an orgasm from Noah and filled Noah’s ass with musky semen,
then
Wade was gentle. He massaged Noah, soothing overtaxed muscles and comforting him in the aftermath of their sex. Twice, Wade had taken him. Roughly. Crudely. He’d commanded responses from Noah he hadn’t been aware his body could yield to, much less meet, but Noah had. And would again.

Still, Wade was right. He didn’t hurt much. He’d be sore. He’d feel the ache of taking the shifter inside him tomorrow, but he would walk. If for no other reason than to prove to the son of a bitch that he could. He wasn’t too weak. Wasn’t too damaged.

He was neither of those things. But crutches and a leg brace convinced city shifters he was, which irritated him. Noah was also annoyed by the soreness that told him this next round of sex would be their last of the night, that he
would
hurt tomorrow...and because he wanted it, anyway. He already trembled with his desire for the burn of Wade’s cock rooting inside him. That Noah craved the opportunity to prove himself a match for his insatiable lover just irked him further. He pushed away the worry that he might ultimately fail Wade. Far, far away.

“Your people are too loud. Obnoxious,” he grumbled into the mattress as Wade fondled his ass, preparing and seducing him again.

Wade left Noah a boneless puddle in his bed to cross to the windows along the wall. He brushed the curtains aside and cracked one window open, staring from the darkness of the bedroom to the flickering glow intensifying below, where glasses clinked. Laughter drifted up while sweat on Noah’s heated skin cooled. Wade returned to bed when the party noises flared and Noah shook with his growing anxiety, but he’d left the window ajar.

Others were down there. Outside. More shifters.

The same shifters who had shunned his family and him. Had driven them away. The ones who would’ve mocked and hurt him, would’ve killed Noah if his parents hadn’t run. Some of those shifters had repaid his family’s love by scratching, biting, and fighting them whenever they’d been caught inside the pack’s territory. For trying to save Noah’s life.

“They’re celebrating. The mating of an alpha doesn’t happen often. But they’re also mindful of the circumstances. Discreet.” Wade stroked his hair. “The party isn’t loud, little wolf. Your senses are waking.”

Throat tightening, Noah turned away, but couldn’t hold back his fear. “What if I shift again?”

Wade blew out a long breath. “Then you’ll shift.”

“Why did you mate me? Why?” Despite the protesting twinge of abused muscle, Noah twisted around to face Wade on the bed. “My wolf can’t walk. On bad days, I can barely walk
as a man
.” He snorted a laugh, the sound cynical and jaded. “They’ll think I’m crippled when I shift. Worthless.”

Pinching Noah’s chin in his rough hand, Wade stared, eyes glittering in the darkness. “The mate of an alpha is never worthless.”

Noah’s gaze darted to the window, where party chatter rumbled on, invading the sanctuary of their bed. Tension knotted his stomach. “They haven’t seen it. What I’m like as a wolf. When they do—”

“Enough!” Wade rolled atop him, pushing Noah into the mattress. Hands that had caressed turned hard and cruel, holding him down. “You won’t be punished for what your sire did to you.”

“What about what the fall did to me? Eight floors straight down cracked my skull like a melon and shattered me like china. It would’ve killed a human instantly. That a shifter survived it is a miracle.” He jutted his chin. “They pushed, all of them, to put me out of my misery. To spare me the supposed uselessness of what I am. You should know my weaknesses; you exploited them to bring me to heel.” A lifetime of pent-up terror, of anger and hopelessness welled up, swamping Noah. “Some damage, shifter blood can’t heal.”

“They were wrong. As was your family for refusing my help once I took over this pack.”

Noah gaped, shock arrowing through him. “You wanted to help?”

Wade nodded. “Your father trusted only the human doctors by then, and I couldn’t sway him from that misguided path.” Instead of restraining him, Wade’s grip softened. His hands glided over Noah, pulling him close. “I can right those old mistakes. We can. Your wolf is already stronger. Enough to tempt mine to make the bite. Ours is a forced mating, but you must sense how much I want you.”

Of course, he felt Wade’s arousal. Maybe? The alpha’s desire was as intense as Noah’s, as needy. It must be for Noah to pick up even a hint of those emotions from Wade, but the old hurt of failure, of being judged as inherently less, sliced into Noah just the same. “You aren’t listening! I barely sense anything. My instincts are dead.”

“Not dead.” Wade lowered his lips to tease Noah’s. “Just sleeping.”

Noah opened for him, slipping his tongue out to meet and tempt Wade. He melted at the alpha’s kiss, the reassuring weight of his body. “Touch me,” Noah whispered, ignoring the party below and everything else. In this room, in his bed, only Wade existed. Arching into him, Noah rubbed pebbled nipples raw from the shifter’s attention against the springy mat of Wade’s hair. “Fuck me.”

“Hold onto me.” Wade groped for his thighs, shoving them wider. “And I’ll wake you again.”

* * *

Noah knew he’d overslept when bright sunshine glared through the open windows. Groaning, he forced his eyelids to rise. He squinted, flinching at the rude slap of light beaming through the glass. He rolled from the splash of direct sunlight on the musky, cum-smeared sheets, and he sighed in relief when the room dimmed in softer shadows a few inches away.

He was alone in the bed. Judging by the coolness of the blankets, he’d been alone for some time, too. Not surprising. Wade hadn’t squandered precious minutes with his mate from the beginning.

Mated.

The stinging bite at the crook of his neck assured him that was true, but Noah still couldn’t believe it. Kicking a lust-sick Noah from his bed wouldn’t have humiliated Noah. He expected no better from shifters in town and counted himself lucky that he hadn’t been dealt worse. Rejecting Noah would’ve efficiently broken the spine of his family’s pride, though. His father had entertained the thin hope that Noah might mate. Not with a shifter. None would have him, but a human wouldn’t care that his wolf was defective. Humans would consider that a bonus. But now that Noah had been bedded by Wade and tasted his blood, he’d never tolerate the touch of another. Without Wade, the possibility of Noah achieving anything resembling a normal life, be that life with a human or shifter, was gone. Noah would’ve died alone, longing for Wade.

That would’ve crushed Noah’s family.

Instead, the alpha had bitten Noah, mating and sealing them forever.

Why?

“You’re up. Good.”

Noah startled. Heart thumping, he scrambled in the crumpled sheets as the beta from the first night carried a tray into Wade’s bedroom. Typical shifter. Thick dark hair topped a head that would tower at least a foot over Noah. The shifter’s skin lacked the bronze kiss of the sun from years of working outside, but as a beta—and assigned to Noah, likely a trusted beta very close to Wade—he was heavily muscled. Noah was no lightweight there, at least. He’d developed strong arms and shoulders while he was stuck in his wheelchair.

He fumbled with the sheet because of the differences between other shifters and him. A smattering of blondes dotted through every shifter pack. Noah’s sister, Lydia, was dishwater blonde. Few shifters had red hair, though. Noah’s was dark enough to be unremarkable in the right light, but with the sun beaming through Wade’s windows, the carpet of springy curls trailing down Noah’s chest was the shade of spilled blood. The fiery red bush at his groin also emphasized white scars on his pale skin, scars that scant shifters possessed. The ones he’d earned as a four year-old were gone. As weak as his wolf was, Noah’s first shifts had repaired that much, but surgical incisions marked his hips and etched his legs. Which were scrawny compared to his muscled shoulders and biceps.

City shifters would and had condemned him as inferior for that. And more. Covering up was the only option.

Arching an eyebrow, the beta settled the tray next to a newly swaddled Noah on the mattress. “You are a very strange shifter.”

Snorting, Noah anchored the sheet higher and reached for his glasses on the night table.
No shit.

The beta removed the domed lid off the plate. He waved at a small mound of steaks. “Eat.”

Noah grimaced. “It’s raw.”

“They’re medium rare, but they
have
been cooked.”

Noah sniffed his disbelief.

“Lightly seared then.”

While his stomach rumbled with hunger, Noah’s nose wrinkled. “If you’re trying to make me shift again—”

“If the alpha wants to force a shift, you’ll shift.” The beta’s lips thinned. “Cooking breaks down larger proteins your wolf needs.”

Noah eyed the meat and regretted putting his glasses on. If the plate was a blur, he wouldn’t be able to see the bloody sinew they expected him to consume. “I usually scramble a few eggs. Maybe a bowl of cereal. Some fruit.”

“Your wolf is starving.”

Noah nudged the tray away. “This is disgusting.”

“If you don’t eat,” the beta said, “Alpha Wade might reconsider permitting you clothes, and I wouldn’t count on leaving this room any time soon.”

“I thought I wasn’t a prisoner.” He reluctantly picked up the knife and fork, which thankfully was flatware instead of plastic. They’d apparently decided, after a night in Wade’s bed, he wouldn’t stab himself with a spoon.
Nice.
Annoyed beyond measure at the conceit of city shifters, he ate and abruptly groaned in gluttonous appreciation at the first juicy bite. He’d learned to eat smaller portions and mostly vegetables while he was in his wheelchair, no big sacrifice since he didn’t care for the taste of meat. This? Was delicious. Nothing on the platter had come from neat cellophane packages at a market. This was fresh game, mostly deer, but also rabbit. The beta had lied, too. The cuts at the bottom of the pile lacked even a pretense of browning on the outside. Noah ate them anyway. The meal was that good.

Maybe sex had boosted his appetite. The better grade of meat certainly tempted him. Butchered meat from a store didn’t have the zesty tang of wild game, even the cattle his family raised on the farm with hay, corn, and grains. Mindful of his strict diet regime, Noah’s father and brothers had shared the bounty of their hunts with him infrequently, and Noah couldn’t hunt himself. Fresh meat was a luxury to him, a treat. Noah responded to this abundance by eating voraciously. For now, he’d indulge in the extra food, as he’d indulged in Wade, but he’d watch. Be careful. Miraculously, he hadn’t started a cycle of uncontrolled shifting that would burn the additional calories, not yet, and packing on extra pounds wouldn’t help him maneuver in his brace. He had enough challenges among city shifters already.

While he ate, the beta turned to a bureau, and after opening a drawer, he retrieved dark blue silk boxers. Another drawer yielded up a black tank top. “Here,” the beta said, placing the items next to Noah on the mattress.

“I’m not wearing that,” he said, barely resisting the urge to lick his plate.

“Are you still hungry? You’ll burn more energy while you’re mating and should listen to your body. Eat your fill. I can call down to the kitchen.“

“I said I’m not wearing that.”

“I heard you.” Noah didn’t flinch from the beta’s steady stare. “The boxers won’t interfere with your leg brace,” the beta finally said. “For the time being, the alpha’s wolf won’t tolerate you smelling of anyone else, and none of his other clothes will fit.”

Noah shook his head. “They’ll see my scars, the red hair—”

“What about your hair?” The beta scowled.

“Nobody else has red. Or glasses. Or scars. They make me ugly to city shifters. A freak.”

“You’re wrong. Other shifters have scars from fighting. It isn’t common because we heal rapidly, but serious injuries can leave a mark. No one is ashamed.”

“I’ll bet nobody suggested killing one of
them
for their own good,” Noah said, dragging the tank top over his head. Naturally, the hem caught on the wire frame of his glasses. Damn it. Once he’d untangled that, he shoved his hands through the gaping armholes. “I bet they can walk, too.”

“You can walk.” Glowering, the beta took his meal tray away, the lock clicking on the door to the outside world like a cannonade.