Tuesday Teaser 1/13/15: Daughter of the Wolf Clan

This week you’re getting a longer snip. Well, slightly longer. If you recall, we left Kit curled around Olivia, waiting for her to wake up so he could make love to her.  In the cat culture, making love isn’t the same as it is for wolves.  Luckily, they are interrupted before Kit can do what he intends. Or maybe Olivia has gone from the frying pan to the fire!  I hope you enjoy it. 🙂

“Kit?” She craned her head to peer over her shoulder at him in the dim light. Yes, she could see traces of the lion man who had kidnapped her. The dark blond hair that fell past his shoulders and his strangely bright yellow-green eyes were familiar. The wide mouth with the gently curved lower lip and the soft shape of his face were not.

“Yes,” he said, sounding pleased. He bent his nose to the nape of her neck and inhaled deeply, just the way Uncle Taye did to Aunt Carla sometimes. “You slept such a long time.”

His tongue touching the side of her throat, licking up to her jaw, made her scramble to get away from him. “Let me go!”

The happy pleasure died from his face, replaced by something dark. His arm clamped painfully over her waist, yanking her back. “No,” he said flatly.

“You have to! I’m freezing.”

“I’ll give you sex. That will warm you up.”

“No!”

She kicked and clawed, trying to get free, but it was hopeless. He looked slender, but he was as strong as a wolf warrior. He wrestled her face first into the blankets and crushed her beneath him. Her flailing arms failed to hurt him no matter how hard she tried to strike the body on top of her back. When he spoke his voice sounded regretful.

“You prefer rough sex? But you’re so easily broken. Wouldn’t you rather cuddle?”

“No! Get off me!”

Her voice was muffled against the blanket. She struggled to buck him off, but she couldn’t budge him. Were his hands actually trying to pull her panties down? She clamped her knees together, hooking her ankles together with all the strength she had. How did he dare to treat her like this? She had never felt a man’s bare body pressed against hers. Even Rob hadn’t taken off her clothes in his father’s stable. It made her feel horrifyingly vulnerable, and that helpless feeling made fury surge through her.

“Stop!” she screamed. “Kit, stop it right now!”

His teeth fastened on her shoulder near her neck with a growl that vibrated through her like a drum in a parade. Or maybe that was her heart pounding? His teeth hurt, but the pain was drowned by rage.

“Stop, Kit!”

Olivia found fresh strength, enough to allow her to throw him off her back for almost three whole seconds. He pounced back on her, but this time she was ready, and chopped the edge of her hand into his windpipe just as her uncles had taught her. He tumbled back a couple of feet and sat on his bare haunches, glaring at her and breathing hard. Olivia saw, by the state of his arousal, the fight hadn’t dampened his enthusiasm. The skin and muscle of her shoulder throbbed where his teeth tore her skin. Where was her knife? She didn’t dare take her eyes off him to search for it.

A shadow blocked the sun from the front of the cave. Kit turned in a silent bound that put him between her and the cave mouth. Olivia jerked her panties back up and fumbled to pull one of the blankets free to wrap around herself to hide her nakedness. Kit didn’t seem bothered by his nudity, but it was clear he was bothered by the faceless, black silhouette at the front of the cave. He snarled something in that slurred language, his voice so distorted by his rage Olivia couldn’t decipher the words. The shadowy figure said something in calm reply. Olivia blinked with surprise at the feminine voice. When Kit snarled again, the woman’s voice rose to a whiplash of command.

“You braw a female tuwa pride?” the woman demanded.

“Mahmade.”

Kit’s voice was a low, dangerous growl, his body crouched as if ready to spring. Behind him, Olivia looked frantically around for her clothes. Her jeans and shirt had never seemed to be protection before, but right now she was agonizingly aware of being vulnerable without them. She saw them folded a few yards away, and her knife was a beautiful thing, peeking from under her shirt.

“You, human girl.” The woman’s voice was as confident and commanding as an Alpha’s. Was she the cats’ Lupa? “Come here.”

“No!” screamed Kit. “Mahmayde sday wid me!”

He was nuts. Only a crazy man would scream at his Alpha female like that. Olivia edged toward her clothes, flicking a cautious glance between Kit and the woman, desperately wanting to be dressed before the Lupa exploded.

“Girl! I said come here.”

“Yes, ma’am. Just let me get dressed.”

“Right now, bitch,” the woman snarled.

When Kit let out a bone rattling roar, the woman snapped in perfectly spoken English, “Shut up, Kit. You brought her to the Pride. She’s my business now.”

“She dresz furz.”

Olivia didn’t wait for the Lupa’s permission. As she rushed to fumble her way into her pants, she was transfixed by the sight of Kit growing several inches and hair sprouting over his back. His change was nothing like her brothers’. When the Wolf Clan let their wolves out, it happened in a blink. This took transformation took over ten seconds, and the thin noise that came from Kit’s throat was pained.

The shadowy figure of the Lupa moved forward, emerging from the glare of the sun to reveal a woman as tall and broad as Aunt Glory, but with waist-length black hair and dark eyes in a harsh-featured face with thin lips. Her jeans and shirt were very tight, showing a lush body. She glared a cold challenge at Kit.

“Are you defying me, boy?” she asked.

Instead of an angry growl, the tone was gentle. So gentle it made Olivia shiver. When Uncle Taye spoke in that tone enemies died. But he never used that tone within the Pack. Did this woman treat her own people like enemies?

“Mah madte.” Kit sounded less angry, but still stubborn. “Oleeya mah madte.”

“Girl, are you finished dressing yet?”

Olivia scrambled into her shirt, shoved her feel in her boots sans socks, and surreptitiously patted the hilt of her knife on her belt. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Follow me.”