Chapter Six

“RED CALLED OUT; she’s not coming,” Mikel said two days later when Violet staggered into the kitchen for coffee.

“She sick?” she croaked, going straight for the pot and tipping it into the mug he’d set out for her—the one that had become her favorite.

“Something like that.” Finally, the amusement in his voice registered.

“What?” she demanded, no filter in place this soon after waking up.

“Full moon’s the next three days,” he explained, like that should mean something to her. She only stared at him in question. “Things get a bit charged round here.” Violet took a long, scalding drink of coffee to hide her fluster when she finally caught his meaning.

“She told me about the werepenis.” She lowered her cup and cringed internally as her mouth presented that wonderful little nugget of information out of nowhere. More coffee was needed, fast.

Mikel just nodded, unsurprised.

Violet turned back to the counter, shoved a slice of bread into the toaster, and tried not to be disappointed. Going out in the van with Red was becoming a routine. She was fun and honest. She showed Violet the town, answered her questions, and kept her laughing. She also seemed to understand when Violet withdrew, when one minute they were tearing down a backroad laughing, then Violet was cold, moody, and swallowed by guilt that she was settling, happy even, when Lila was out there probably thinking she was dead.

“Glad you’re here today,” Mikel said, a second before his hands found her hips, and he stepped up behind her.

That was something they did now; they touched. Yesterday, he’d kissed her on the mouth before she left in the morning. When she’d gotten home, she’d returned the favor until he was golden eyed and hard, then she’d stepped back to watch him try to finish a chair he was working on and marveled at how powerful and right it felt in the moments she could forget her life before.

The toaster popped, and she went to grab her slice, but he was quick to catch her hands and hold them while he wrapped his arms around her. It irritated her how he could thaw her, and he did. Some of the tension bled off at the warm expanse of him at her back.

“Supply run today. Come with me?”

“You going to stop manhandling me if I do?” she shot back, no malice in the words.

“Yes, ma’am,” he promised, and her traitorous body melded back against him.

“Then yes.”

His lips brushed her hairline before he let her go, disappearing from against her so fast she almost hit the deck. She whipped around to see amusement dancing on his features and dared him to laugh. He had the good sense to turn back to his phone. Violet smiled.

 

“OH MY GOSH, you’re that unclaimed Mikel Davis saved. Bless your heart.”

She could only watch Mikel pick through dozens of boxes of screws for so long before she lost it. Violet had wandered off to browse what was Forest Bluff’s answer to the Home Depot, when she was interrupted.

A young woman was smiling at her, and Violet could pick out the falseness of it at a hundred yards. She appraised her, unimpressed with her platinum-blonde hair, shirt and jeggings ensemble, and that saccharine smile.

“Mikel and I go way back,” she insisted, right as Violet turned to continue browsing paint chips.

“Congratulations,” she offered, her mind pegging this woman as one of Mikel’s nice offers and leaving her instantly over the entire interaction already.

“We were all so surprised when he claimed you.” If she noticed the brush-off, this chick wasn’t taking it. “I’m not surprised he’s not mated you. Don’t get me wrong, but I’m sure he’s very conflicted. Everyone thinks it was gracious of him to step up. We’ve not had an unclaimed in almost fifty years, would you believe?”

Violet took a step down the aisle, eyes on an array of blue shades, yet she couldn’t help but listen.

“Of course, saving a random life and actually mating—”

“Miranda.” Mikel’s voice cut in. Violet looked up and he was beside her.

“There you are!” Miranda beamed, and Violet’s eyes narrowed at her hand on his chest before he turned back to her and tactfully brushed away the touch.

“Paint?” he asked.

Violet shrugged, but Miranda was undeterred and quick to insert herself back into the conversation.

“I was just telling your new friend how kind it was for you to save her. Of course, nobody expects you’ll actually go through with it and mate her. A man like you has plenty of options,” Miranda said.

Violet swore Miranda’s blue eyes flashed gold for a second, and she saw red.

“But it’s so nice that you have such a big heart.” Miranda gushed on, and the audacity of this bitch galled her.

“Not the only big thing he has,” she cut in, that perfect politician’s daughter smile she’d mastered since she could talk on her face. She watched the remark land. Miranda spluttered.

“Good seeing you, Miranda.” Mirth danced in Mikel’s voice while he hooked an arm around Violet and tugged her away.

When they reached the cart, he caught her around the waist, set her down atop the neat stacks of wood and plywood sheets he’d organized on it, and proceeded to push her down the aisle.

“Why are you terrible at staying put?”

“That your ex?” she shot back. She hadn’t meant to ask, but he seemed amused that she had.

“Not since fifth grade,” he admitted and that shocked her. Behind them, the blonde was still watching, and Violet caught her eye for a scathing smile.

“Jealous?” Mikel asked, leaning in close with humor in his tone. “We did hold hands once at a school dance.”

“Seems she’d like to do something more than hold your hand,” Violet snarled back, irritated with him.

A strong hand caught her jaw. “Something like this?”

He kissed her, just the chaste press of lips until Violet’s brain caught up, and she seized on him. Her fingers twisted in his shirt, pulled him down until they were sharing hot, open-mouthed, scorching kisses, and her heels were hooked around the back of his legs, encouraging him between them, closer, until they were pressed tight and hot together.

When Mikel pulled back, his eyes blazed gold. He blinked, the color faded, and he huffed a laugh.

“She still watching?”

Violet peered around him, and sure enough, Miranda was looking right back at her, open mouthed, shock painting her features. She wasn’t the only one who seemed to have noticed them either. Violet wanted to laugh at the sight of the stunned townsfolk, pride bursting inside her for reasons unknown.

“Yep,” she said, popping the plosive, smirking up at him. “Definitely not just your hand she’s interested in holding.”

“What then?” His eyes glittered with amusement, and she sensed him trying to call her bluff.

In one, smooth movement, she shrugged and leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips and run the heel of her hand over the fly of his jeans. He caught her and pushed her back but not before she felt the growing firmness of him. Mikel hissed out a breath through his teeth at the touch.

A clatter down the aisle got both of their attention. Violet looked around to see an older couple watching them, a small pot of paint rolling along the smooth floor where it had been dropped. Mikel sprang back, grabbed it faster than a human should be able to, and set it politely on a shelf within arm’s reach of the woman.

“Afternoon, Steven, Jill.” He cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulder. “Full moon,” he offered politely, as if that explained everything.

Violet barely contained herself when he turned back to the cart and wheeled it and her away. They only made it a few paces before she threw her head back and laughed.

“You’re trouble,” Mikel insisted while he was loading the truck.

She’d tried to help and had gotten shooed off twice before he’d snatched her up and plonked her on the tailgate and told her to stay.

“You like it,” she insisted, and the smooth bastard flashed his eyes gold at her before he disappeared to take bags of fixtures to the backseat of the cab, leaving her alone, light and warm with the way the day was progressing.

“Violet Page,” a voice said.

Shock. It ripped through her, stole her voice for a long moment, then Mikel’s arm was tight around her middle, his body half in front of her.

“Alpha Kane,” Mikel said.

Violet recognized the coolness in his voice instantly, and she tried to marry alpha with this man who’d sat at the dinner table in the mansion enough times in her life that she recognized him on sight, this man who was one of her father’s business associates—someone from the outside.

“No need for that, son. You know Kane is fine,” he asserted, but Violet caught the tightness in his tone.

He was slick, but she’d grown up around so much slick it was practically an oil spill, had eaten dinner with it since she was old enough to hold a fork. She knew this type of man, had heard his secrets and schemes while they thought her too young to pay attention. He was wary of Mikel, and his unease was palpable to her.

“Nice to finally meet your new young lady.” Then, he turned back to address her, and Violet held his eyes, face carefully neutral now because something about this screamed danger.

“You look awfully familiar, Violet. Have we met?” He was smiling, but there was knowing beneath, testing. She drew a breath, but Mikel was quicker.

“Been getting that a lot. Jack thinks she looks like the Moore girls, couple people have asked if she’s from that family.” His voice was cool, final, while his hand was tight on her waist. Violet took his lead.

“Sorry.” She shrugged. “Don’t think I’ve seen you around.” She squinted like she was considering, something in the tightness of Mikel’s body beside her bidding her to make the lie convincing. “Unless you’ve bought any furniture this last week? I’ve met so many people, it’s been a whirlwind.” She laughed at herself, and Kane’s face broke into a smile but only on the surface, and she was acutely aware that he watched her still.

“I guess not.” His gaze held hers for a second longer, and Violet knew if she was anyone else, her skin would be crawling.

Instead, thanks to years of practice with Magnus, she looked back at him unflinching until Mikel cut in.

“Best be going. Gotta get all this unloaded before dinner.” He gestured to the truck, and the spell seemed to break. Kane released her gaze and looked up at him.

“Absolutely,” he agreed. Violet smiled when he glanced back at her, then he addressed Mikel. “She’ll be an interesting addition to the bloodline. I appreciate you stepping up. No need for unclaimed in this day and age, such a waste.”

“Best choice I’ve made,” Mikel said gruffly, and there was something in there, a claim or a threat Violet couldn’t decipher.

The alpha bid them goodbye, and she could tell Mikel was thinking, slow and brooding, while he tied off all the lumber and checked it twice. He grabbed her off the tailgate and bussed her up into the passenger seat. Usually, she’d protest at being hoisted around, but the darkness clinging to him saw that she held her tongue.

They were out of the parking lot and pulling back onto the main street before finally he asked, “How do you know the alpha? Don’t lie to me.”

Her temper sat up and took note of the accusation in his tone, though she kept a civil tongue when she replied. “He’s been having dinner with my dad since I was a kid. Doesn’t come around much, few times in a few months then might not see him again for years. Been a year or two since he was last at the mansion, but it’s definitely him, and he knows I know it.”

Mikel’s face darkened, his expression stormy, and something in it kept Violet quiet all the way home, pensive over what it might mean that the alpha of Forest Bluff and the mayor of Frankston were in cahoots.

No sooner were they back in the driveway than Mikel was out of the truck, door slammed behind him. Violet sat for a long moment, relieved for a break in the sudden tension that she didn’t understand. The bang of him jumping into the bed sounded behind her, followed then by the clack of him unloading wood. She listened for a long moment, tried to breathe out some of her frustration with his sudden brooding, then unclipped her seatbelt and slid down out of his monstrosity of a vehicle.

When she rounded the back, there were already neat piles of wood forming on the driveway. “I told you it was Jared at Target. My dad obviously knows people here. Shit, he might even be in on this whole thing. It wouldn’t surprise me.” The realization rocked her.

He paused for a minute to consider this then carried on unloading. The dismissal stung.

“Hey,” she demanded, “why are you mad at me?”

He hefted a thick beam and chucked it atop the pile with a clatter before he looked at her. “Not mad,” he insisted, yet his jaw was tight, his eyes hard. “Don’t like Kane sniffing around you.”

He turned back to the wood. Violet stood uselessly, waiting while he tossed more pieces off the bed, until she got bored and headed into the house. She wasn’t about to stand around and watch him brood.

 

“GOING OUT,” HE said, when he stuck his head around the bedroom door a few hours later.

Violet nearly knocked over the bottle of nail polish she’d just finished with, in her haste to turn around. He’d stayed out in the shop all afternoon, and she’d left him to his brooding, setting a sandwich on the bench out there with a mug of his coffee, and deciding she would amuse herself until he was ready to talk. It had taken longer than expected.

“Where?” She struggled to turn around without smudging her glossy black, still-drying nails on the comforter.

“Woods.” Irritation flashed in his tone, and it rose in Violet to match.

“I’ll get my coat—”

“You’re not coming.”

Violet sucked in a breath, but he was faster.

“It’s the full moon, things can get—interesting. We’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

She hopped to her feet. “Maybe you have, but I’ve spent the last six hours staring at the wall waiting for you to be done with your tantrum.”

His eyes flashed gold. She ignored it.

“Am I your prisoner?” It had been days since she’d said something like that, and the effect of it was instant.

His jaw unwound and he looked away, apologetic.

“We don’t have to talk tonight, but whatever you’re doing, can I help?” she asked. It was more conciliatory than she’d planned to be, but the heaviness clinging to him didn’t sit well with her. She missed his easy smile, the little snatches of humor she was learning to recognize from him, the brush of his hands on her skin.

“Put something warmer on.” He cleared his throat and recovered. “I’m logging. You’ll be bored. Come if you want.”

It wasn’t the enthusiasm she’d hoped for, but Violet hurried to do as he’d said, adding a sweater over the laced-back shirt that had gotten her a severe eyebrow that morning, as well as her coat. She rolled her eyes when she realized he was waiting for her in the truck but went out and climbed up without comment.

He didn’t speak on the drive. When he killed the engine further into the forest, he was quick around the cab to open the passenger door. He tugged her to him to lift her down and some spiteful, little part of Violet told her not to look at him.

“You put something warmer under here?” His fingers tugged at the collar of her coat, then his palm was against her cheek, thumb smoothing the soft skin under her eye. The touch felt like an apology.

“Yeah.” She met his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he parroted back with a crooked smile that melted her. She pushed him gently.

“You going to tell me what’s going on up here?” She tapped his temple.

He snagged her hand and surprised the shit out of her when he pressed his lips to her palm then the inside of her wrist, the tenderness disarming her.

“Yes, ma’am. Once I get it straightened out.” He looked at her with so much earnestness that she relented.

“Fine. Ready to work on some wood?”

He smirked at her, and it took her brain a long moment to catch the double entendre in her words. She scoffed.

“Full moon got your brain in the gutter?” she teased him, then shrieked in surprise when she was pulled suddenly from the seat and dropped a few inches before he caught her in his arms. An owl hooted close by, and he chuckled.

“Not the moon,” he corrected.

He set her down on the forest floor, the remark sending a tendril of heat snaking low in her gut. Mikel jumped up into the bed of the truck with inhuman ease and dropped back down holding a huge saw.

 

HOURS LATER, SITTING on a stump watching him fell yet another tree, Violet had concluded he was right, and this was cold, but it had gotten a lot less boring when he’d shed his shirt.

“Why are we cutting wood in the middle of the night?” she asked when he stopped to shake out his hand and test the give of the tree he was cutting with his boot.

It was easier to focus on that than the way the moon spilled silver over his skin, the hard lines of his body, the way he rocked with the saw like he’d rocked over her. Mikel licked his lips, and she dragged her mind out of the gutter, even though it was too late.

“Moon-felled furniture is big business. Usually just add a piece to each item that was cut under a full moon. It keeps a certain charge; some folks think they can feel it.”

“Can you?” The idea was intriguing.

“I think so.” He ran his fingers over the saw blade and little shavings of bark fell to the forest floor. “Almost everything of ours is built entirely from moon-felled lumber I cut at the zenith. Actual full moon is tomorrow, but a day on either side works as well.”

Ours wasn’t lost on her as he went back to rocking to and fro, running the blade through the trunk. Her mind turned the concept over but struggled to hold on to it when she was starting to feel warm in her coat, eyes tracking the curl of his abs, the swell of his biceps. The tree fell with a mighty crack, and there was something primal in the way he looked at her after. Saliva flooded her mouth, and heat sunk into her belly like a stone.

“Came out tonight because I figured we might be busy tomorrow, the zenith of this cycle.” His voice was lower, rougher, full of dark promise.

“Busy doing what?”

He pushed up from his position on the forest floor and tossed the saw aside. Violet’s stomach flipped when he crouched in front of her.

“Traditionally, there’s two options.”

She swallowed at his tone, at the look in his green eyes, bathed in silver by the moon.

“There’s a bonfire in the square, buffet; food’s decent.”

He was playing with her.

“What’s the other?”

A predator shone in his eyes. “This.” He tugged her off the stump and tumbled her down easy onto her knees then pushed her forward onto her hands. In a flash, he was over her, covering her, hips grinding into her ass. “Breeding,” he breathed into her ear, and she shivered.

“Not interested in babies,” she gritted out, although in that moment her body begged to differ, screaming that it was interested in anything—everything—he could give her like this.

“Won’t get bred before you’re mated. Practically unheard of till you’ve finished the change.”

Relief surged through her. At least she didn’t have to feel totally irresponsible for her choices thus far. In her defense, she’d never had to worry about condoms in her life. Then, a thought struck.

“In the woods, you said to Jason I’d probably be…pregnant quick.” She couldn’t bring herself to say bred with the casual ease he and Red did, yet.

He moved back and let her up. Violet turned to face him, still on her knees, as the weight of the moment settled around them.

“Knew he wouldn’t keep you if I did. He’s not a good kid. Only brought you back here with the idea of being cruel.”

“So, you figured an arrow to the chest was a better alternative?” she asked, and he wouldn’t look at her. “Or did you plan to claim me all along?”

He swallowed in stony silence.

“Why would you wait until I almost got shot if that was what you wanted?” she demanded.

“Of course, it crossed my mind.” The words came out a low rumble. “But there’s not been an unclaimed in years; it’s barbaric. I hoped they’d…do something else. Then, I wondered if I was being selfish—” His voice was rising. “If I put Jason off because he’s a piece of shit or because I’m the piece of shit, and I wanted you for myself.”

The words rung loud in the night. It was wrong, but Violet felt the effect of them between her legs, felt herself slick with heat because he’d wanted her and chosen her.

His eyes flicked down her body, and she knew he’d caught the scent. He blinked, and his face returned to a mask she recognized as guilt. “I looked up, and you were running. Didn’t mean to cut it close.”

“I wanted you for myself.” Her mind had caught on that and failed to process the rest.

Mikel was tight-jawed and tense, and maybe he should be, but he’d saved her, wanted her, and the same want roared inside her at the admission.

“What did you want to do to me?” Her voice was smoke and fire, and when his head snapped up, his irises shone gold.

Still, he paused a beat, hesitated.

“Show me,” slid out of her as easy as a breath, then he was on her, tumbling her down to the forest floor in the cage of his arms.

“Wanted you naked under the moon.”

Violet’s mouth went dry at the admission, and she had a long second to wait and want while he shook his discarded coat and sweater and spread them out atop the dry leaves. Then, he set her down on them. He made quick work of her clothes, his lips never far from her skin, and it was thoughtless, easy, until she was lying beside him while he kicked off his pants, her nipples hard in the cold air.

Her fingers brushed his hip, moving lower while he settled against and half over her, keeping her warm.

“I don’t know how to touch you,” she told him as she realized, fingers brushing his already firm cock.

“Because you, uh, slept with women?”

She smiled at his awkwardness. “Yeah.”

“But you like this?” His hand dipped between her legs and came back slick, shining in the moonlight, and he answered his own question.

“No, I hate—”

He silenced her sarcasm with a kiss, then his hand settled gently over hers, showing her how to touch him in long, firm strokes. Once she found her rhythm, he let her go and lavished attention on her breasts, across her collarbones, then on her lips. His fingers slid wetly over her and made it increasingly hard to concentrate on touching him.

“Quick study,” he praised before he slid an arm under her back and pulled her up and over, back onto her knees. This time when he moved behind her, Violet moaned. The loss of him at her front left her skin cold, prickled with goose bumps, and the heat of him at her back was full of delicious promise.

“Ask me to breed you, Violet.” The words dropped hot against her ear.

“No biting?” The thought scared her. His hands snaked up from her hip to run hot over her breasts.

“Won’t mate you until you ask.”

Until set her on fire. His cock rubbed hot against her backside, and she crumbled.

“Breed me.” She barely had time to be embarrassed before she was back on her hands and knees, and he was over her.

A hot, primal growl vibrated against her skin where her neck met her shoulder. The place Red has her bite, she realized. His lips were there, pressed tight together while his hips jerked once, twice, then he pushed into her.

A hand came up to run soft over her breasts, and he moved in her slowly, yet there was something fevered even in this. Finally, his jaw unclenched, and he kissed that same spot, licked it and sucked it while he worked her to full readiness, until she felt her wetness on the inside of her thighs, and heard it every time he pushed inside.

His breathing was already ragged. It was obvious the full moon was doing something for him. When she looked over her shoulder, he met her gaze with gold-ringed eyes. Her cunt clenched, as she watched his eyes close and his jaw flex at the feeling. Still, he fucked her slowly.

“Show me,” she said.

The words were barely a whisper, but they were enough to ignite him. One hand settled against her clit, and his mouth went back to that spot at the base of her neck, then he started to really move.

His voice was as loud as hers, ringing in the trees, echoing in the cold air, yet they were sweating. Her body started to pull tight, and her arms threatened not to hold her up much longer.

“Not yet,” he insisted.

The hand that had been rubbing her moved to hold her around the waist instead while he rolled his hips into her again and again. It didn’t do much to slow the fire in her. Violet’s nipples were tight, oversensitive when they brushed the soft fabric of his sweater below.

“Mikel,” she pleaded, heat coiling in her belly. Refusing to be stayed much longer, she sank down, chest against the ground while he rutted over her. His hand slid lower again and rubbed her for three hard, deep thrusts before his hips stuttered. The heat in her belly snapped tight, and Violet shuddered the first breath of her orgasm.

Wet heat bloomed inside her as she tumbled over the edge of her climax. Mikel held tight to her, hot sounds of pleasure lacing with her own while the warmth grew and settled right in the middle of the place where she found her pleasure. Violet was shaking, racked with little aftershocks, when her brain finally processed that he’d finished inside her.

He was warm against her back while they panted together under the moon.

“Option two,” he breathed out, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

“Definitely better.” She clung to his arms where they held her tight, until eventually, he started to move.

“Too cold,” he explained when he started to disentangle them.

“Mikel,” she said before she could overthink, before the moment slipped by. He wrapped her coat around her shoulders and looked at her.

“Don’t sleep on the sofa tonight.” She almost rushed to add that there was plenty of room in the bed or make a joke about his age and his back, but she caught her tongue. The smile he tried to hide made it worth it.

He tucked her hair behind her ear and nodded his agreement.