Chapter Twenty-Six ARK
Bluff sneaks into the room just before dawn, smelling like smoke, blood, and wet leaves.
He’s removed his flannel shirt, but his tee is damp against his chest, and he peels it off with a sucking sound.
When he’s done, he balls it into a fist and moves closer to the bed, peering down at Abbie. “Is she okay? What did Patch say?”
I squeeze my hand into a fist, feeling a tremor of rage echo in the bones. “Seems she was injected with a chemo drug. Something painful. Patch has drawn some blood to check for side effects.”
“Fuck.” His eyes flash, his scent taking on a feral edge. “If I’d known that, I’d have pulled out his nails as well as his teeth.”
I tuck my arms behind my head and sigh. I should be asleep, but every time I close my eyes, I’m back in that clearing, wondering if Abbie is dead or alive. “It’s done? He’s gone?”
“Down to the last skin cell.”
I nod, because that’s exactly what we promised Abbie. Nothing would be left of her attacker, not just to avoid incriminating us, but because she doesn’t need another fucking ghost following her around.
“I’m gonna shower then pass out,” Bluff says, scratching at his blood-streaked chest. “I wanna be back in my skin when she wakes up.”
It’s an odd phrase, unless he’s told you about his wolf. It’s how he describes the trauma of his violent upbringing, churning inside him like a wild animal. “If it’s too much to ask you to do stuff like tonight…”
“Never.” He peers down at me, more wolfish than ever. “I like watching fuckers like that burn. Maybe it’s screwed up, but I think of my old man. I wasn’t big enough to take care of him myself, but it’s what I wished I’d done.”
“Vengeance is fine. Just don’t let it eat you up.”
“Nah, I’ll save that pleasure for our omegas.
” He grins as he stalks to the bathroom, bloody tee still in hand.
Another piece of evidence to bag up for Dusty, so he can dispose of it during his next shift.
We’ve been working him overtime lately, but he seems happiest in the bowels of the morgue, dishing out justice one incinerator blast at a time.
I roll onto my side, studying our omegas’ faces on their pillows.
Or pillow in the singular, since they’re wound together so tight, it’s hard to tell which limb belongs to which body.
The easiest way, of course, is by tracking Wings’ ink, but my gaze keeps skipping back to the fresh bandage on Abbie’s arm.
My pulse beats in my throat as I feather a finger over the edge of the gauze.
I’d contemplated telling Patch to put a tracker in the wound before he stitched her up.
She’s been unusually submissive since Wings chewed her out, and she might have even let me.
Or she might have kicked me in the balls and told me to go sleep on the couch.
Either way, it would’ve been worth it if it kept her safe.
Not that it really matters from a logistical standpoint.
I’ve already put the fear of the unholy in the Hub, and I doubt she’ll step foot out of the compound again without at least a dozen eyes tracking her.
I smile as I watch Wings clutch her tighter, her bottom lip jutting out as his fingers dig into her waist. Serves you right, brat.
Her eyelashes flutter, glossy on her pale cheeks. “Ark?”
“I’m here.”
“Why are you awake?” She strokes her hand across my chest, following the happy trail to the waistband of my boxers. “Is it morning already?”
I catch her hand, trapping it against my abs. “How do you feel? Any side effects? Do I need to call Patch?”
She blinks at the abrupt questions. “If you mean do I have demon drug nerve damage, then no. If you’re asking about my bumps and bruises, I’m pissed that he got close enough to take me down in the first place.”
“Then I’d go back to sleep, butterfly, unless you want your bottom to hurt as much as your pride.
” She narrows her eyes, but there’s no mistaking the wisp of omega arousal in the air.
“Or maybe you do. Maybe you want me to paddle your naughty ass, so Wings will stop trying to strangle you in your sleep.”
She huffs out a breath. “He’s practicing the octopus grip.” Her eyes dip back to his sleeping face, her mouth twisting with remorse. “I can’t blame him. He’s hurt, and I deserve every bruise he gives me.”
“My hands are bigger,” I tell her, placing one on her soft rump and giving it a warning squeeze. “And they land a lot harder.”
“Is that what you want?” She licks her lips, but there’s a hint of something in her eyes. Hurt, maybe, or confusion. “Will it make you stop hating me if you get to hit me?”
I cock a brow at her, insulted on several fronts. “Hitting is different to a spanking, Abbie. Anything I do to you will always be well within your tolerance limits. And I could never hate you, no matter how much of a brat you are.”
Her fingers flutter against my abs. “Then what’s with the cold shoulder?”
I raise my brows, since she’s still missing the point. “I’m pissed that you were hurt and want you to stop being so reckless with your safety.”
I watch the arguments and excuses flash across her face, but she finally bites her lip and nods. “Yeah. I fucked up. I get that.”
“Good.” I roll to the edge of the bed and stand up. “But I think you’ll get it a whole lot better when I hammer it home.”
I hold out a hand in invitation, and her brows shoot up to her hairline. “Now?”
“Best to do it while the lesson is fresh in your mind.”
She huffs, and I bite the edge of a grin as she carefully untangles herself from Wings’ arms. She shuffles over to me and I scoop her up, carrying her over to the padded bench I brought in from my room.
As I lower us onto it, she reaches out to touch the leather upholstery.
“How long have you been planning this punishment, exactly?”
I arrange her across my lap, amused by how stiff her limbs are for something she clearly wants as much as I do. “It’s not like I need to be clairvoyant, Abbie.”
“Because you expected me to fuck up?”
I push her head down, ignoring her glare as I run a hand over her rump. Her ass cheeks are round and firm in her sleep shorts, but I know they’ll be soft and loose once I warm them up. “Because I want to spank you most days, and I knew a reason would fall into my hands eventually.”
She huffs, but her spine is slowly unclenching, and she lifts her hips as I ease her sleep shorts down.
No panties, and I run an approving finger down the sweet crack of her ass.
Slick is already leaking from her pussy and I clench my thighs, well aware that she can feel the muscles shifting under her.
Arousal is heavy in the air, my pheromones thickening in anticipation.
I watch her lick her lips, but there’s still too much sass and pride in her, and I need to make her feel small and soft.
She needs to cling to me, the way Wings clings to her, even in his sleep.
It’s the only way she’ll truly understand that her life isn’t just hers anymore.
“Unclench, sweetheart,” I tell her, running my finger over her crack again.
Her thighs quiver, but she relaxes an inch, and I dip my finger between her cheeks.
I don’t focus on her hole, since we haven’t discussed ass play yet, but I hook my finger lower, gathering some slick from her folds.
I drag it back through her crack, watching her muscles flex at the sensation.
“You’re wet now, but you’ll be dripping when I’m done. ”
“You’re sure about that, Pres?”
I smirk. So much sass for someone who’s already squirming with need.
“I know it.” I wrap my hand around her throat, feeling her claiming bites quiver under my touch. “Your body is mine, Abbie, so I know exactly what turns it on.”
She makes a helpless sound, and I realize my voice has dropped lower.
It’s shifted to a dominant register, something that few of my designation can reach.
It vibrates in my chest, a dark hum as I circle my hand on her ass.
It covers most of her cheek, and I smile at the coarseness of my skin against the pale, pretty globe.
“I’ll give you two to start; one for each cheek.
” Her head bobs, somewhere between a nod and a protest. “And don’t forget, clenching just makes it hurt more. ”
She starts to turn towards me, but I press one hand between her shoulder blades as I bring the other down on her ass. Two quick spanks, equally placed and hard enough to make her skin bloom with heat.
“Ow!” she hisses, trying to push herself up to escape the sting. “What the fuck?”
I press my chest down against her spine, rubbing my chest hairs against her aching ass. “Just as sweet as a kiss,” I taunt, watching the color burn in her cheeks.
“That was closer to a bite, Ark!”
“Want to stop, sweet girl?” I touch her face, skimming her lips and rubbing my slick-coated finger over the tip of her tongue. “Or do you want to be a good girl and come for your alpha?”
Her lashes flutter, so rapidly I can almost hear her brain overheating. “I want… I was just saying…”
“Stop or go, Abbie.”
She huffs again, but her ass slowly presses up against my hand. “How many?”
“As many as it takes,” I murmur, rubbing the pink marks on her cheeks.
I’d give just about anything to sink my teeth into them, but I might have to save that for a future punishment.
Knowing Abbie, I won’t have to wait long.
“But I’d say ten per cheek should be enough.
Do you think you can take that many, butterfly? ”
She tilts her head, looking at me out of the corner of her eye. “If you think I can, then you must be right.”
“Good omega.” I let her see my smile. She can already smell my arousal and feel the hard ridge of my cock pressing between her ribs, but I tell her anyway. My girl likes to be praised, even if she’s too stubborn to admit it. “You’re making your alpha very happy, sweetheart.”