The Taking (erotic paranormal) (The Breeding Prophecy)

Cassandra escapes the evil Ulster and believes she’s running for the safety promised with Clan Barrachius but she is shocked when she receives a less than warm welcome by the
Barrachius
Alpha, Tieran
. Caught in the ever-tightening web foretold by The Breeding Prophecy, Cassandra and Tieran must succumb to their desires, even if they can’t stand one another. As all out impending war between the clans hovers on the horizon, Cassandra must give herself to the power of The Prophecy if any are to survive the
bloodbath that will ensue
.

THE TAKING

(The Breeding Prophecy 4
)

By Alexx Andria

Copyright 2012 by Alexx Andria

*This
erotic
story is intended for mature readers only. If you’re not 18 years or older, find something else to read.

The fo
llowing short story of approx. 7
,5
00
word
s
is a
n original
work of fiction
and part of an ongoing series
.

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***

Cassandra’s padded feet put miles between herself and
the vile clan
Janus
’
Alpha,
Ulster
,
but she couldn’t escape the waves of shuddering revulsion that rolled beneath her pale white fur
. The crisp night air invigorated and cleansed even as her heart wept over what she’d done. Oh, how she hated the Phase! What
demented
higher power had put together their speci
es and
thought it would be great fun if the female of their kind fucked anything that walked when they were in the Phasing period of their cycle? Cassandra wante
d to howl the song in her heart
t
hat cried of shame and loathing
and grief, but she had to keep moving.
If Ulster managed to catch her, she’d find no mercy — not that she’d ask for any —
his rotten heart was incapable of compassion, only sadistic lust.

And she might’ve just conceived his child. She stumbled as the horrifying thought nearly sent her tumbling to the
frost-bitten ground
but she recovered and regained her speed.
She wouldn’t think of that. Not right now. Safety first. Everything else came second.

Ulster was likely gaining his forces, hot on her heels. Now that he’d tasted her, he’d never give up. Cassandra had caught a glimpse of his mind, felt his insanity and he was obsessed with her.
More specifically, he’d been obsessed with her birth mother. The fact that Cassandra was some mystical being according to their legends was simply a bonus. Ulster had been enraged that Cassandra’s mother had run off and left her pack to join with the enemy, a man from clan
Barrachius
.

Somehow she had to find Jandin and Koris —
 
hell, even that cold-hearted, achingly beautiful vampire Cristophe would be a welcome sight —
 
but the bitter night gave no clue as to where she was, only
her fear that Ulster wasn’t far behind pushed her to continue
.

She didn’t know how long she’d been running but suddenly, her nose picked up a familiar scent and her heart thrilled with
wild, almost hysterical
hope.

Jandin and Koris! Her twins! Pushing herself beyond her exhaustion, she ran straight toward the scent, following the trail as if it were a physical thing, drifting on the cold night air
as a light blue ribbon that twisted and curled through the heavy forest.
Her light sensitive eyes picked up the
illumination
from the moon, bathing the landscape in a ghostly
watery
glow that mesmerized her savage heart. She was of two minds: human and beast while her body was
wholly beast. The
sharp
chill barely permeated her thick coat and the rough terrain was no match for the tough calluses of her paws.
Seventy-two hours ago she hadn’t even known of her unique heritage; tonight she’d become the stuff of nightmares.

The irony that she’d never owned a pet in her life
and yet now someone might mistake her for one if they saw her running past
would’ve made her laugh if she hadn’t been close to dissolving into bone-racking sobs.

She broke the clearing and a large modern home of steel and thick glass rose before her, casting deep imposing shadows and causing her to skid to a stop. Her tongue lolled as she panted hard, her ribs heaving from the exertion of the flat-out run of her escape. She thought of Arja, the injured woman who’d been kind to her within Clan Barriachius, and she made a vow to try and help her, no matter what happened. She couldn’t leave Arja at the mercy of Ulster. The older woman might not survive his rage and disappointment at losing Cassandra. She shuddered as the realization hit her that it might already be too late for Arja. Cassandra bolted for the house but didn’t account for the guards that sprang into her path, snarling and threatening to rip her throat out.

She bared her teeth and backed off slowly, watching the wolves that advanced, pushing her away from the house. Her canine mouth couldn’t form words and she didn’t know how to change back into her human form — hell, she didn’t know how she’d changed into a wolf in the first place — but she knew she had to get into that house. Cassandra lifted her nose and sniffed the air, reaffirming that Jandin and Koris were near.
She let out a mournful howl, expressing her fear and frustration in that piercing sound. The wolves froze and suddenly, their ears swiveled as they took off running in the opposite direction, leaving Cassandra baffled but gratefully alone.

But she soon realized, she wasn’t alone.

A figure emerged from the house that immediately set her ears back in warning. Her hackles rose and she moved into a defensive posture without thought.
Who was this man? Enemy or friend? She couldn’t tell.
After the night she’d had, she wasn’t about to take any chances.

He broke free from the shadows and stood watching her with hard blue eyes that glittered in the night air like azure diamonds. Like Ulster, he radiated power but unlike the sickly red that ebbed and flowed from Ulster like a fever, this man shone with a bright energy that crackled like a live wire and was just as dangerous. He was the Alpha of Clan
Barrachius
. She could sense the truth of her sudden knowledge and there was no need to question what she knew.

He regarded her with open consternation, as if her arrival was neither a surprise nor welcome, yet he didn’t try to chase her away. She bared her teeth in a subtle warning, refusing to cow before him. She didn’t care who he was. On a scale of one to ten, ten being
the
worst, the last few days had wavered at the tipping point of fucking awful and he was the final straw.
A low growl erupted from her throat and he lifted his brow in surprise at her audacity, even as he continued to watch her every move. “My brothers tell me that you are the Prophesied One. I didn’t want to believe them. But here you are in all your glory, white pelt and all, and I have to believe they were right. You are female and yet you changed into a wolf form. My brothers tell me it’s our job to shelter you, to put our pups into your belly to cement our claim to the Prophecy but if they have that thought then it’s fair to surmise that every clan from here to creation will want to do the same.” His lip curled ever so slightly. “And you already
smell of sex and blood, which means y
ou have taken
the enemy into your body
. How do I know you are not carrying the poisoned seed of Clan Barrachius
in your womb?” His mouth pursed as a tense moment passed before announcing with grim finality. “
The risk is too great. Logic tells me to kill you and be done with it — fuck The Prophecy. If there is no Prophesied One, there is no Prophecy to fear.
”

Cassandra’s vision narrowed as his energy rippled around hi
m, momentarily causing him to frown as if taken aback by a sudden surge of unpleasant sensation.
He bowed against the onslaught and grunted as if he’d just been jabbed in the gut by an unseen force.
Even with her superior senses, she could see nothing aside from the man arrogantly deciding her
fate but something beyond her understanding had just happened and it was significant enough to cause him to stiffen
with open agitation as he barked, “It seems your power extends farther than you realize. The Gods will see their game played out, it appears. Come and wash the stench from your fur before I puke.”

Cassandra glared at the man, hating him intensely. It wasn’t her fucking fault that she stank of the seed of her captor! Since she’d become aware that she was some freak
show
with a magical womb, all she’d done is get captured and screwed because of the damn Phase. If she had her druthers, she’d rather be simultaneously studying calculus while
getting a root canal!

She followed the man, who still hadn’t shared his name so Cassandra had decided to dub him, “The Prick,” into the house and in spite of her less than welcome admittance, she was relieved when the doors closed behind her.
This elegant house was a fortress, built to withstand an army.
The house was dimly lit by recessed lighting strategically placed in the ceiling, but she could tell immediately that Clan
Barrachius
lived by a different standard than
Janus
. For one, nothing smelled of rot and death. The furnishing gleamed as if polished by a studious hand each day. Not one mote of dust drifted on the air. The hardwood floors were waxed to a fine sheen. She could smell the beeswax and lemon as it lingered within the grain of the wood. A great shudder coursed through her and her vision shimmered and blurred. She had a heartbeat to realize that she was changing again as her bones went through the painful transformation from beast to human. The damp crunch of bone and snap of sinewy made her nauseous but within moments, she was lying dazed and sweaty on the hardwood floor, nearly unconscious as her body struggled to reorient its physiology.

Two sets of strong, yet gentle hands lifted her from the floor and she found herself between the two men she trusted the most: Jandin and Koris.

However, the voice of another surprised her most.

“We must talk.”

“Cristophe?” she said weakly, focusing her blurred vision on the tall, lean figure of the vampire who’d alternately captured her from the twins, yet lost her to Ulster. She didn’t know why she was happy to know he was here — his original intent had been to let her Phase out and die until somehow her magic had leaked onto him and they’d made love like rabid bunnies in a dank cave — but somehow she knew he was needed in this coming battle against Ulster. Somehow she knew that they all had to work together to prevent Ulster from taking control of the world through her.

But Cristophe’s curt statement wasn’t directed at her. He was looking at The Prick, who simply nodded and gestured for Jandin and Koris to take me away while he dealt with other matters.

Feeling summarily dismissed but too groggy and weak to do much more than glare impotently at his retreating backside, she sank into the arms of the twin wolves who had taken her virginity only seventy-two hours ago.

Well, they said you never forget your first, she thought muzzily.

Particularly when your first is with two massive werewolves who not only broke through your hymen but breached your ass as well.
Talk about overkill
. In a very short amount of time, she’d become a raging
werewolf
slut.

On
the heels of that vaguely
hysterical thought, Cassandra finally blacked out.

***

Memories from her childhood floated through her mental theater, plucked from the past and pasted together in a jumble of thoughts, sounds and feelings as she sank under a black blanket of total lethargy.

The sharp bite of pain as the skin split beneath the rusty saw blade.
Blood welling from a small finger. Crimson spilling in a beautiful trickle from a nasty wound.
Her adoptive mother’s fretting and worrying as the wound streamed red.

“I told you not to play by that dirty old thing,” her mother had admonished, rushing to put Cassandra’s wounded finger under the faucet. The cool water soothed the angry cut, washing away the blood, staining in the porcelain sink a light pink before swirling down the drain. “You could’ve cut your finger clean off!”

Cassandra had remained silent, more fascinated by the blood than the pain of her cut or her mother’s muttering about tetanus and blood poisoning. Without thinking, Cassandra popped her finger into her mouth just as her mother went to grab a bandage.