Page 3 of Mating Brand


  “That’s them,” Percy snarled. “They won’t be much of anything for long. Charma? Don’t just sit there. Get up and bring me food. I’m hungry.”

  She rose from her chair and entered the kitchenette. Not only did she run all the pride leader’s errands and play secretary, but he’d made her his personal servant and whipping girl as well.

  Her teeth clenched as she forced her anger down. They’d smell it if she didn’t quickly get control of her emotions. Percy would strike her in front of the enforcers and her mate, something she’d do anything to avoid. She knew how much Garrett would enjoy seeing her punished.

  She turned. “What would you like for lunch?”

  The pride leader waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t give a damn. Just feed me.”

  Motion drew her attention and she met the glare of her mate. Her spine stiffened at the malevolent look he directed her way. He stalked closer to his father. “Feed me as well. You can rub my feet after you’re done.”

  Hatred warmed her entire body. He’d make her drop to her knees in front of everyone just to humiliate her. He’d beat her if she refused. Charma found herself wishing she had some poison to sprinkle over anything she fed Garrett. His sense of smell wouldn’t allow that fantasy to ever become a reality.

  He could do worse. She just spun away and jerked open the small fridge in the corner of the kitchenette. She’d never forgive Garrett for even a tenth of the horrible things he’d done to her over the years. He really enjoyed humiliating her in front of the enforcers and his father whenever possible.

  She quickly made a stack of sandwiches and took some to Percy first. He didn’t thank her, never had, and she’d fall over in shock if he ever did. She glanced at the monitor while she waited for him to take the plate.

  The face on the screen made her freeze.

  No. It can’t be. Her gaze lowered to the name under the picture. Brand!

  “My food,” Garrett growled. “Now.”

  She automatically responded to years of taking his commands and twisted away from the sight that shocked her to the core and rushed back to grab the second plate. She avoided looking directly at him as she handed the food to Garrett. He accepted it with one hand and painfully gripped her shoulder with the other.

  “Rub my feet.”

  “Not now,” Percy snapped. “Make her do that later. I want her to print out four copies of the map they sent. She takes my orders while she’s here.”

  “She’s my mate!” Garrett’s grip tightened until she whimpered from pain.

  “Let her go!” Percy roared.

  Garrett shoved her away and Charma stumbled to her chair. All the men followed Percy into his office and the door slammed. She lunged for the monitor to twist it her way. She quickly halted the flashing pictures to back them up a few frames and stared at a face she’d never thought she’d see again.

  Brand had grown out his hair. Small lines bracketed his mouth and marked the outer edges of his sexy eyes as he smiled at whoever had taken the picture. He wore faded blue jeans and a navy tank top. She stared at his buff, tanned arms, remembering the feel of them wrapped around her. Her heart lurched.

  He’s in danger.

  That thought sank in.

  “Where are those damn maps?” Percy roared from the other room.

  “The internet is really slow,” she lied. “I’m downloading them.”

  “Hurry up,” her pride leader demanded.

  Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she frantically worked. Percy had never been known for his patience. It took only a few minutes to pull up a map, open it in a photo program, scramble the names of a few towns to make certain the attack party got lost if they followed the driving directions she changed, then quickly printed out the copies. Her knees felt weak as she entered the office.

  Her mate stuck out his foot as she walked toward the desk, tripped her, and she slammed into the floor on her belly at the feet of two of the enforcers. She pushed up to her hands and knees to shove the papers on Percy’s desk.

  A firm hand gripped her elbow to assist her to stand. She shot a grateful look at Randy. He didn’t release her though. He frowned as he drew air into his nose. His gaze left her to stare at Garrett.

  “Your mark is fading from her. It’s faint.”

  “So?”

  “So it’s my job to keep the peace, and some of the males might go after your mate unless you cover her again with your mark. I can barely pick it up. I don’t want to have to bury any of our members when you tear them apart.”

  Garrett snorted. “Nobody would want her. She’s useless. She’s infertile, a rotten lay, and unless I’m smacking her, she doesn’t even move while I’m nailing her.”

  Charma wished the floor would open up under her feet. She could sense every male watching her. She should have known her mate would retaliate for what had occurred the night before when he’d entered her area of their home in a drunken stupor. It had been one of the rare occurrences when he’d sought her out, but she’d spurned his sexual advances.

  “One of the pride will attempt to fuck her if you don’t strengthen your scent,” Randy persisted. “You might not think so, but she’s very pretty.”

  “I don’t care what happens to her.”

  Randy released her arm. “You’re saying you don’t give a damn if other pride go after her? She’s only half-blooded. She won’t be able to fight them off.”

  “Nope. Hell, you want her, fuck her right here. You’ll be disappointed if you think it’s going to be any good. Any of you can have her if you want. Bend her over the nearest chair if you’re in the mood.”

  Horror gripped Charma. Her gaze lifted to Randy, praying he’d protect her even if her mate wouldn’t. Interest sparked in his green eyes and he licked his lips.

  “You sure? I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have her.”

  “I’d find it amusing as hell.” Garrett chuckled. “Go for it. Just be rough.”

  “Not inside my office, on my furniture.” Percy sighed. “Do it on your time. Right now, she’s got shit to do other than amusing your friends, son.” Percy waved her off. “Go. We’re busy. Tomorrow night, we’re declaring war on those damn werewolves.”

  She fled toward the door, wanted to escape, but paused to address her pride leader. “Your dry cleaning is ready. Should I pick it up now or wait until later?”

  “Go but come right back. We’re going to need coffee soon while we plan the attack.”

  She backed up, avoiding Garrett and the other men, who watched her with way too much interest. As soon as she reached her desk, she grabbed her purse and car keys before bolting from the office.

  There was no going back once she left town. The Pride would kill her for betraying them, but it beat sticking around waiting for Garrett to allow the enforcers to have her. He would do it. Her mate was a total bastard. The fact that he would outlive her was the only regret she suffered as she climbed into her car.

  Within twenty minutes, Percy would figure out she hadn’t returned and send some of the enforcers to hunt her. Within two hours, they’d realize she wasn’t within pride lands.

  She rolled down her window and reached inside her purse. She glanced at the phone, tempted to call her family to say goodbye, but rejected the idea. Her parents would demand she stay. She also didn’t want to have to explain to her siblings exactly how bad life had gotten for her. They’d be safe from retaliation, since her sister had mated with the alpha’s son from another pack. It would be an offense to that pride if Percy or Garrett hurt Megan’s family.

  Charma pitched the device out the window. She could be traced by it, and she didn’t want to weaken her resolve to do the right thing. Calling one of her siblings made that a real possibility.

  Fear nearly overwhelmed her but a memory surfaced. The image of Brand smiling at her from across a candlelit table on their first official date soothed her. I can do this. For him.

  * * * * *

  Brand jerked awake, p
anting from the nightmare of reliving the worst day of his life—the day Charma had fled. He was twisted up in the bedding, sweat covered his body and his dick was rock hard. He glanced down at the tented sheet.

  “Yeah, I know who you want, but she’s not here.”

  He sat up, shoved the sheet away, and stood. His skin was overheated, his gums ached and he knew why. “I hate this time of year. Goddamn mating heat.”

  It disgusted him that his evening would consist of porn flicks and lotion. He had stopped going to the pack runnings once he realized that he’d never find a mate there. He had tried it for years, hopeful someone would make him forget that she-cat, but eventually acceptance had settled in. The random sex gave him a break from routine but after a while, even that bored him. It just wasn’t worth the bullshit.

  The phone rang and he stared at it. He wasn’t on duty until tomorrow. The answering machine picked up after three rings.

  “Hello? Brand? It’s Peggy!” The annoying voice grated on his nerves. “You haven’t called me back. I’m going to the running in an hour and wanted to make sure you know where to meet me.” She giggled, sounding like a teenager instead of a thirty-year-old mother of nine. “I’m really excited. Don’t be late. I don’t want to have to fight off other males if they find me first. You’re the one I want. I’ll be at the creek where the white rocks are, near the waterfall.” She hung up.

  The woman had lost her mate and was looking to make him the father and provider for her family. She chased him often but he wasn’t having any of it. She only wanted him for his home and money and wasn’t even polite enough to lie about it. He had to give her credit for honesty, at least. She’d told him flat out why she’d chosen him. She’d loved her mate but figured Brand would welcome a relationship where no emotions were involved. She had also tired of dealing with nine kids alone.

  “Not happening,” he groaned. “I might not be the friendliest bastard but I’m not desperate either.”

  The phone rang as he reached the master bathroom to take his shower. He paused and waited as the answering machine clicked on.

  “Brand? It’s Melissa.” The woman paused. “The guy I agreed to hook up with chose another bitch who wiggled her tail at him.” Anger deepened her voice. “I thought since that fell through, maybe you and I could get together instead. I figured you’d still be available. I hate this time of year, don’t you? Hey, it beats batteries, right? Give me a call back soon or I’ll find someone else.” She hung up.

  “Right,” he muttered. “I’m so flattered to be your second choice and better than a vibrator. You thinking of some other guy while I’m nailing you is such a turn-on.” He snorted. “I’ll pass.”

  He flicked on the bathroom light and quickly shoved down his sweat pants. He twisted the lever to cold, hoping the spray sluicing down his body would cool his heated blood.

  He glanced down at his dick, which refused to soften, and clenched his teeth. He hated mating heat, detested that once a year, he kept a constant boner and wished he were a woman. They had it slightly easier. They suffered severe horniness but it wasn’t painful, didn’t drive them out their minds or make them turn into pitiful creatures who jacked off frantically to anything flashing skin, even on television.

  He shook his head and tipped it back under the icy blast of water. He knew it wouldn’t work. His cock seemed to have a pulse and a growl tore from his throat. His balls ached too. He quickly washed his hair, turned off the water, and snatched a towel off the rack.

  The phone rang again. He tilted his head as he dried off while avoiding his middle and perked up when his ex-girlfriend’s voice met his ears. Hope soared that she might want to spend time with him. She was pretty, made him laugh, and he’d had a good time with her until she’d cheated on him with another wolf and insisted that he was to blame. It wasn’t a match made in heaven but he’d take it during mating heat.

  “Hey, stranger. Um, this may be a bit awkward but I know you’re still single. My grandma hasn’t gone through menopause yet and, well, hell…you’ve got to be hard up, since most know to avoid you because you’re not looking for anything lasting. She’s been reading these books about cougars. That’s what they call older women who fuck younger guys. She always thought you were hot and wondered what it would be like having a young stud go after her again. She was totally excited when I told her how good in bed you are. I told her you’d be flattered she wants you and you’d go for it. You remember where she lives, right? Just go over there and she’ll take care of you during the heat. You’re welcome!”

  Brand dropped the towel, horrified. A memory of Jackie’s grandmother flashed through his mind. The woman had to be past a hundred and actually looked like someone’s grandma. She had baked cookies for the occasion when she’d met her granddaughter’s “nice young man”. He remembered her using a walker to get around after breaking her hip when she’d lost a fight with a bear she’d encountered in the woods.

  The idea of doing her made his cock lower slightly. He peered down. It remained hard but he could see a little difference…until it perked right back up.

  “Goddamn it!” he roared. “I’d rather hump a pillow. I hate mating heat!”

  He snarled as he stormed to the nightstand and yanked the drawer open in his haste to grab a bottle of lotion. “Her grandmother. Shit. That’s just mean.” The memory of the older woman flashed again and he paused.

  “No damn way.” He’d rather meet up with Peggy, though he was certain she would try to get him hot enough to lose his mind and bite her to seal the mating deal. She’d own him then, her and the nine pups he’d have to care for. He’d be mated and destined to be nothing more than her checkbook and pup wrangler. “I hate my damn life.”

  He threw his ass on the bed, opened the lotion bottle and was about to tip it to pour a generous amount into his palm when the phone rang again. He paused. He needed to ease the tension inside his body. He had to get off to stop the pain that had become nearly unbearable.

  “Who’s next? Someone trying to shove their three-legged cousin at me? Maybe someone’s going to ask me if I’m hard up enough to do barn animals?”

  “Brand? Pick up now,” Jeff ordered. “We have a situation.”

  He lunged across the bed, dropping the lotion. He jerked the phone from the cradle to shove it against his ear. “What’s wrong?” Something bad had to have happened for an enforcer on duty to call.

  “You’re not going to believe this if I tell you. Just get your ass into town.”

  “Where?”

  “Oh, you can’t miss it. Just hurry. I’m trying to hold them back but they’re going to tear the damn car apart if they get past me.”

  “What—”

  “Just get here! This—” Howls drowned out anything else Jeff may have said before the connection died.

  Brand hung up and ran to the dresser, cursing a blue streak as he tried to zip his jeans over his swollen cock. He grinned though. If he couldn’t fuck, fighting would work. He grinned, though, as excitement hit him. If he couldn’t fuck…

  Chapter Two

  Charma whimpered and climbed into the back of the car. She’d hoped having the windows up would mask her scent when she’d driven into town, but she’d been wrong. The driver’s window hadn’t smashed in yet but it had spiderwebbed enough to terrify her. That had motivated her to scramble over the seats.

  The entire vehicle shook when someone jumped on the hood. A terrifying howl hurt her ears and a boot slammed into the windshield. The safety glass held but the window cracked in at least a two-foot diameter. Someone else grabbed the passenger door and jerked hard enough to make the car sway. The lock held but the male snarled, enraged that he couldn’t get to her.

  “Back off,” another male yelled. “That’s an order! Damn it, get off the car. Back away.”

  Bodies nearly blocked out the streetlights as they converged and she knew she only had moments before they managed to tear through some part of the car to reach her. They weren’t
going to allow her to talk. She’d hoped they’d just ask her why she’d trespassed into their territory.

  That had been the plan, which had gone terribly awry as soon as she’d turned off the engine. In what seemed like mere seconds, men had rushed at her from all directions.

  They rocked the car until it made her slip on the seat. She fell over onto her side, drew her knees up to her chest and huddled into a tight ball. Howls and snarls were nearly deafening. She covered her ears, squeezed her eyes shut, and her heart raced.

  She knew death would come soon. Still, it had to be better than what her mate planned for her. He’d tried to destroy her soul a day at a time. Now he’d told the enforcers they could take her body if they wanted. She’d rather be killed by werewolves. They were brutal but swift death-bringers.

  Glass shattered and rained down over her. She screamed when a hand fisted her hair and pulled. Her body slid closer to the destroyed window and pain stabbed her. The one who held her howled, so close it was deafening, and she screamed again.

  The hand suddenly released her hair.

  “Enough!” a horrifyingly deep voice roared. “Do you want to die?”

  The male who spoke wasn’t human. His voice was so affected she could barely understand the words.

  “That’s a female, damn it! Who said you could kill her?”

  “It’s a damn cat,” another deep voice snarled. “She asked for it.”

  Charma lifted her head and peeked up. She’d been pulled all the way to the door until her head actually touched the armrest. She stared at a broad-backed male wearing a gray sweater. He leaned against the opening, covering it with his body to prevent anyone from grabbing her again.

  “We kill stinking cats where I come from!” a werewolf shouted.

  The guy against the door emitted a vicious sound. “You’re in Harris Pack territory now. You’re a visitor, and you will follow our laws. We don’t kill females, even she-cats. Leave if you don’t like it!”

  The guy protecting the opening moved enough for Charma to see more of him. He’d kept his human form but some hair covered the backs of his hands. Fresh blood dripped from the spiky points of his extended claws. They appeared to be razor sharp and deadly.