Rule Breaker: A Novel of the Breeds (38 page)

Sadly, he’d forgotten to include himself in the wish.

He breathed in slowly, heavily.

“We were never friends because we truly never knew each other,” he retorted to the Breed’s earlier statement. “Father was smart enough to ensure that one of us was always gone whenever the other was there.”

The Coyote had come to the compound ragged, filthy and suffering from dehydration and juvenile primal fever. Dane had been in London at the time overseeing several of the Leo’s properties, but he’d heard of the bedraggled Coyote youth, more wild than trained, who had gone in search of the fabled compound of the first Leo at the tender age of six.

“Leo’s going to have both of us killed if he finds out about this one, Dane,” Dog assured him.

Dane shook his head. “He’ll regret it. He’ll hate the need for the deception, but he’s as aware as we are that the child would have died without the assurance we gave Gideon of protection if he would aid the child. We never specified how he was to do so.”

Dog grunted at that.

“What now?”

“Now, we wait,” Dane informed him, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the rough stone of the outer wall and continued to watch the guests of the hotel arrive and depart.

“You do that a lot,” Dog observed.

“What? Wait?” Dane grinned.

He did rather do that a lot.

“No, tense whenever you see a particular color and style of hair,” Dog pointed out just as Dane tensed further, cursing silently as the black military-reinforced SUV pulled slowly beneath the hotel awning.

Several Breeds sat in the front; behind them, he knew the small family.

He waited, hungry for the sight of her. Watching as first Lance Jacobs stepped from the SUV before lifting the toddler into his arms, then helping his mate, his treasured wife, from the vehicle.

Jacobs made her a good mate, though, he admitted. And that boy, he was a combination of both. The child who had finally tamed Death. Auburn hair, a little long and a bit shaggy. Loose jeans and a blue T-shirt. He looked like his father, thankfully, though the boy had his mother’s eyes.

Then she stepped out.

God help him, how beautiful she had become over the past years. Still regally graceful, as exquisitely beautiful and more dangerous and . . . His throat tightened, his chest aching at the sight of her rounded tummy beneath the pretty gold silk blouse she wore with her jeans.

Pregnant.

Once again, she was with child, and just as before, it gave her a glow to her features that made her incandescent. Made his chest swell with such emotion that once again he wondered if hybrid Breeds had the ability to find their mates, or if the natural age retardation once they reached adulthood also signaled that they, like their human counterparts, risked losing the very hearts that could come to mean so much to them?

Just as he had lost this heart.

“Harmony Lancaster,” Dog murmured. “Son of a bitch, what’s she doing here?”

“Amber,” Dane whispered as he felt his stomach pitch with the pleasure of hearing her laughter. “She became very close to Amber the last time she and her family were in Sanctuary.”

“There are too many high-ranking Breeds here, Dane,” Dog protested then. “Someone’s going to become a target. Her mate’s already taken two bullets. I wouldn’t imagine he’d survive very many more.”

The fucking bastard was healthy as a horse, Dane thought furiously. As though having nearly met his maker twice had only strengthened his resolve to ensure that his mate and children were never left unprotected.

They would never be unprotected, though, Dane knew as he watched the two dark-colored vehicles pulling in behind the SUV. The six hard-eyed, steel-cold Breeds who exited the vehicles and stood watchfully in place were her permanent shields.

Hers and her mate’s.

They were rushed into the hotel as Dane watched, dipping his head as she seemed to pause for a moment, looking behind her as the guards surrounded her and her mate urged her inside.

And Dog was right. There were far too many upper-hierarchy Breeds here and one more important to him than all the others.

“I heard the rumors,” Dog stated then. “But until now, I never believed them.”

“And what rumors would those be?” Stilling the anger that threatened to bloom inside him wasn’t easy.

“The rumors that you used to be in love with her.”

Dane straightened slowly. “That will teach you to listen to rumors.”

Tossing the cigar into the narrow disposal unit, he strode quickly away from the Coyote and the hotel, heading to the parking lot and the vehicle he kept parked there.

He didn’t “used to be” anything, he thought furiously as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks and let the darkness enfold him.

He loved her then, he loved her now, and he feared he would always love her even more in the future.

She was his weakness, and he didn’t dare allow anyone to learn that secret.

Not again.

CHAPTER 27

Rule would have missed it if Lawe hadn’t forced him to stop, forced him to use his senses and the knowledge he’d gained over the months where his incredible little mate was concerned. And Lawe wouldn’t have known if Cassie, God bless her heart, hadn’t contacted him just before Rhyzan had allowed Gypsy to overhear the cruel, destructive words that had spewed from her mother’s lips.

As Gypsy had stood still, her gaze locked on the shattered screen, the soul of the woman he realized was more than just his soul ruptured in such agonizing knowledge that Rule wanted to howl with fury. Riding quick on its heels was something far more dangerous, more destructive than her pain, though. The link he hadn’t known he’d established within the stubborn, independent little hellion snapped quietly, so naturally going into effect that if Lawe hadn’t forced him to wait for it, he might not have realized it was there until too late.

And he would have missed perhaps the second most important moment of not just his life, but also Gypsy’s.

Gypsy had realized something far more than her mother’s belief that the daughter had been the cause of the son’s death.

She had realized something far more dangerous, to herself.

Turning down the hall to their suite nearly an hour later, Rule watched with narrowed eyes as Lawe stood outside his door with several other Breeds.

He could feel Gypsy tensing, uncertainty rising within her as Lawe nodded to the nearest enforcer. The Wolf stepped to the door, unlocked it quickly and pushed it open.

“I need to talk to Kandy,” Gypsy protested, though only halfheartedly, he realized as he dragged her into the room.

The door closed behind them.

“To tell her good-bye?” Using his hold on her wrist, he swung her into his embrace, one hand going to the back of her neck to ensure that his gaze met hers as she stared up at him in surprise.

And in an undercurrent of nervous suspicion.

“Good-bye?” Bravado suddenly gleamed in her eyes. “Why would I need to tell her good-bye?”

“What did you remember, Gypsy, that has you steeling yourself to die?” he asked, rather than answering her question. “Why did I suddenly sense the fifteen-year-old child you once were, filled with such guilt and self-hate, suddenly still, before she winked away as though she had never existed? Did she finally realize that what happened that night wasn’t her fault?” His head lowered, his lips pulling back from his teeth furiously. “Did she finally figure out that the same person might have betrayed her and her brother both?”

...

How had he known? How could he know?

Gypsy stared back at the Breed whose presence in her life had changed so many things, too many things too fast; she felt a part of her soul that lay so undefended, so raw and bleeding since the moment she realized who and what had taken a child’s only security, fill with something so much stronger, so much more intuitive than anything she had ever known.

Suddenly everything was more intense, more intent.

Each sound, each scent, the brush of air across her flesh, the heat of her mate’s body next to hers, the feel of him, inside her spirit, where none should exist but herself.

Yet Rule was there. A comfort. A strength that grounded her as nothing had ever grounded her before.

She couldn’t tear her gaze from him.

Gypsy felt her breathing slowly even, felt the heartbeat that she hadn’t known had been racing with fear suddenly slow and calm.

“Lawe and I survived because of a bond no one knew we had,” he growled, satisfaction glittering in his eyes as that presence inside her refused to vacate. “Because we could strengthen each other. Because we could open ourselves, allow each other in, and whether the strength we needed was physical or psychological, we could provide it. Until he mated. Until I realized he was building a much stronger, much more intuitive bond with the woman he called his mate.”

She shook her head, emotions rioting through her as she realized there was nothing she could hide from this man, this Breed. There was nothing she could do to hide from him, and nothing she could do to protect him.

She couldn’t push him out. She couldn’t hold on to the fear, the driving fury or the hunger for vengeance. She couldn’t shut that inner, emotional door on the Breed who had stood by her side since the night she had stared across a crowded bar into his eyes . . .

“Far longer than that,” he revealed as her eyes widened in disbelief. “I’ve been by your side, Gypsy, since you were fifteen years old. If not I, then later, Cullen Maverick. Or should I say, the Bengal Judd.”

He knew what she had suspected? That Cullen Maverick was the Breed Jonas searched so desperately for?

Gypsy shook her head, her breathing roughening. “No . . .”

“Your contact is the Bengal Judd, Gypsy,” he told her quietly, his expression filled with such emotion that she had no idea how to combat it. “I may not have realized I was your mate, but the instincts inside me, that animal that ensures I never completely fuck up, knew. It knew, connived and conspired within my subconscious, until I did exactly what I had to do to always watch over what belonged to me. Including conspiring with a Breed who would become wanted by every agency, every Council team, every fucking scientist in the world, and even the one man I owed every iota of loyalty to, Jonas Wyatt. I conspired to the point that I ordered him to take the bargain of working with him to you, on the condition that no other man touch you. That you have no lovers, no one to stand between you and your mate when the time came for me to claim what was mine. And later, when Jonas began searching for that Breed, I hid my knowledge of this from even my own brother. Trusting. Believing he had sent everything he had to Jonas. Knowing, without him, you would have drifted away from this world within a year of Mark’s death.”

He was the reason that demand had been made of her?

She could feel adrenaline pumping into her system—disbelief, amazement, it was all there, yet her heart wasn’t racing, and she couldn’t feel betrayal. She couldn’t feel it, because she was just as entrenched in his heart as he was in hers now. Feeling him.

Breathing him.

“I was a part of you before I ever caught your attention that night,” he promised her, his free hand moving to cup the side of her face, his thumb brushing against her lips. “I’ve always been here, Gypsy. Just a heartbeat away from you. More damned scared of what I was feeling than you could imagine, because losing you would have destroyed even the animal that lurks beneath the skin. The animal that fought with every heartbeat, with every breath, to ensure your protection every second after the night you lost what was most dear to your heart. Because you, mate, are most dear to my heart.”

She had to blink back her tears.

Gypsy couldn’t believe she was on the verge of shedding tears.

Her breathing hitched, a sob tearing from her chest as his head lowered, his lips touching hers.

“Don’t try to push me out, Gypsy. Don’t take that from me. Don’t take what completes me or allow a knowledge you refuse to share to destroy the only bond I’ve ever allowed myself other than that which connects me to my twin.”

His lips took hers then. Entrenched inside her spirit as he was, not just giving pleasure, but sharing his own. It felt like liquid nitrogen shot straight to the demand already heating in the depths of her pussy.

Her juices began trickling from her core, dampening the inner muscles before spilling the moisture to the swollen outer folds.

His lips moved over hers, his tongue sinking past them, filling her senses with the taste of chocolate and peppermint and a hunger she couldn’t deny herself. One she couldn’t deny him.

Before she could stop them, her hands were buried in his hair, the battle still raging inside her senses to hold on to him, to push him from her, to ensure that nothing risked him. Especially the ghost of the past that she knew she had to face alone.

The kiss, the hunger pouring through her was suddenly absent as his head jerked back. A snarl sounded from his chest, causing her eyes to widen as her lashes jerked open.

“You can’t hide from me, mate, not with a secret as important as your life.” The sound of his voice was animalistic. More animal than man, and with more primal intent than she had ever heard in it before. “You’ll learn, beginning now. You will never attempt something so foolhardy, ever, Gypsy.”

The next kiss locked her soul to his, she swore it did. He burrowed inside her, held her to him, opening her to emotions, to needs, to hungers she had never known existed inside her. That she had never known she even ached for the lack of.

Holding to him, she was only dimly aware of her clothes being all but torn from her. In some cases, seams ripped. A few buttons popped and rolled to the floor.

By the time Gypsy found herself in the bedroom with him, a trail of clothing—hers as well as his—lay behind them.

Naked, the muscular heat of his body wrapped around her as the taste of his kiss intoxicated, overwhelmed and bound her in ways she was certain she would protest later.

And she loved it.

She should hate the loss of control.

She should fight the hold he was securing within her. She would have, except it was the first time in nine years that she had felt really, fundamentally secure in something other than grief.

“God help me,” he groaned, tearing his lips from hers, spreading nipping kisses, the sharp edges of his canines rasping against her neck as she tilted her head to give him easier access.

Shivers worked over her flesh, icy heat striking at her nerve endings before flames began to lick between her thighs. Her clit ached, throbbing in time to the blood pumping through her veins, racing with a hungry excitement that only increased the erotic flow of her juices and the need. A need that sensitized her flesh, that only increased the hold she hadn’t realized he had on her.

Hunger poured through her.

His hunger for her.

Hers for him.

God, where was the line between his senses and hers, what he felt, what she felt?

She couldn’t find it, everything seemed to merge, to blend seamlessly until the pleasure of it was a racking chaos of sensation that she had no hope of escaping.

Demanding and hot, his lips covered a nipple as he carried her from the floor. Lifting her knees to his hips as his erection became trapped between their bodies drove a whimpering moan from her lips. The heavily veined shaft rubbed against her clit, driving her to distraction, making her crazy now to have him take her, to fill her. To experience the pleasure she could feel emanating from him, into her and from her into him.

Blending sensations, a mix of desperate need that invaded her senses, invaded her body until she was ready to fly apart in pleasure as his tongue rasped her nipple a second before a growl of hunger vibrated against her flesh.

Gypsy gripped his hips tighter, lifting herself to him as the broad shaft of his cock rubbed against her clit. That wasn’t the pressure she wanted, dammit. She wanted him inside her. She was desperate to drive that broad crest between the plump, slick folds of her pussy.

“Oh, it won’t be near so easy,” Rule growled. “I’ll be damned if I’ll let you off so easily.”

Let her off? He was killing her with need.

Lifting her from him despite her attempts to stay right where she was, he turned her, pushing her to the bed even as she struggled against him, determined to get the upper hand. A surge of dominance suddenly rushed from him, into her, pulling free a dark, powerful need to just submit, to lift her ass to him and let him do whatever the hell he wanted. If he would just make her come.

Her eyes flared open.

Submit?

A second later she found herself on her stomach, his larger body pressing her to the sheets. Gypsy felt her eyes widen, impressions, sensations, a dark demand drawing a shocked gasp from her lips.

“Oh yes, baby, you know exactly what’s coming now, don’t you?” he crooned before nipping her shoulder erotically. “Before you ever consider taking such action again, you’ll damned sure reconsider it first. I’ll ensure it before you ever leave this bed.”

His hand smoothed over the curve of her ass, callused and heated, a rasping caress that sent tingles of awareness flooding her senses, her juices flooding her vagina.

“I didn’t do anything, Rule,” she protested, desperation or was it pure anticipation engulfing her senses.

Anger, a hint of male trepidation, almost fear, slipped into her senses as she felt the wide, bulbous crest of his cock press between her thighs, parting the slick, swollen folds of her pussy and pressing to the entrance. Sliding through the heavy layer of dew collected there, slickening, preparing to take her as a rumbled half-animal, half-male sound of pleasure shocked her senses.

And she was helpless against him. God, she’d never felt this helpless, this completely dominated, completely secure and immersed in pleasure as she did now.

“What are you doing to me?” Fisting her fingers in the blanket beneath her, she couldn’t help but lift to him, even as she knew exactly what was coming next.

She knew, because she could sense him, feel him, anticipate each move, yet she was helpless to counter any of it. Hell no, all she could do was lift her ass, shift her hips and try to force him deeper inside her.

His fingers parted the curves of her ass, a callused thumb finding that forbidden, far-too-sensitive entrance hidden between the rounded flesh.

“Claiming you.” Guttural, intent, the tone was a primal growl that sent shivers racing along her spine. “Claiming what’s mine, all the way to your soul.”

He wasn’t just claiming her, though. It was far more than claiming. He was dominating her in a way that only a being as intensely protective, as fully primal as a male Breed could be, could claim a woman who had denied the sensual, erotic hungers that plagued her. A woman who had fought far too long for herself and wanted nothing more than to be taken, to submit, for once in her life, to simply exist for the man controlling her senses.

“This won’t work,” she panted, fighting for breath, fighting to separate his hunger from hers, his needs from hers. To find a line, a boundary that would divide the link he was establishing within her soul.