Page 49 of Bane of Hate and Silver (Primordial Inheritance #1)

Silver’s Bane

C arson’s fingers dug into Demetria’s round hips.

He laid on his back watching her large plump breasts bounce as she rode his cock.

Two traitors were dead or dying. He bucked his hips up into her, joining her rhythm.

One more to go, then he’d have his prize.

His white wolf. Demetria moaned. But he envisioned the sound coming from the rare trophy that was the Reynolds girl.

The thought of possessing her, of breaking her, enthused him.

Demetria’s long red fingernails scratched down his torso, bringing him back to the present moment.

He grabbed her around the front of her throat and pulled her body down closer to him, low enough that he could bite down on one brown nipple.

Demetria cried out in the sweetest pain as he licked the trickle of blood off the peaked bud.

She tried to speak but he pulled her face towards him, sliding his hand to the back of her head and plunged his tongue into her mouth, abruptly silencing whatever she’d been about to say.

She whimpered when his teeth found her plump lip.

Carson groaned. Bucking his whole body this time, he rolled them over.

If this was his last time inside this perfect pussy, he would maintain full control.

Readjusting he slammed into her hard enough to make her whimper his name.

One hand moved her thigh up his body for a deeper angle while the other found her throat again.

He squeezed until her nails scratched at his hand as she began to need oxygen.

Carson growled and thrusted even harder as she purpled a bit and choked out a plea.

Release, having not yet found him, he grunted, letting go of her throat. His hard cock sprang free of her, dripping from her wet cunt. She lay limply on the bed, fully displayed for him while rubbing her throat. Grabbing both thighs, he turned her backside up.

“All fours,” he demanded, satiating the animal inside him.

He watched as she shifted to her hands and knees, trembling a little as she did so.

“Don’t turn around.” He ran his hand up one brown calf, to the back of her soft thigh, to her round, perfect ass.

“Don’t make a sound,” he instructed, then swung.

She gasped as his hand slapped her soft flesh.

“Bad girl.” He swung again. She whimpered.

“When will you learn to do as you’re told?

” he asked. Then reached for his belt. He may choose to keep both females for his own.

His enemies were dead. Who was there to stop him now?

Luca and Kyle dumped Hayley’s car about a mile from Tasha’s house and continued into the woods on swift paws.

Luca led the way, following his sense of direction and his nose through the trees.

He stopped to sniff and, at the same moment, someone cried out.

The shout sounded young and terrified. Ricky!

Luca bolted, running as fast as he could in the direction it had come from.

He started to smell blood. Werewolf blood.

He could only hope that he wasn’t too late.

He and Kyle broke into a small outcropping.

Luca saw what he was dreading. Lying on a mess of blood-soaked leaves and grass was Ricky, bleeding from the abdomen and clutching the hand of his human girlfriend.

Tasha was bending low over him, begging him to hold on while Monica stood a few steps back, clutching her side.

Monica looked startled to see the wolves approaching them, while Tasha barely looked away from Ricky’s face.

“Who are you?” Monica demanded, picking up a stick and stepping around the teenagers. The stick was clutched in a defensive position to strike if need be. “You better be werewolves because if you’re not, I feel really stupid right now!” she shouted.

Luca nodded at Kyle and in simultaneous flashes of light, they returned to their human forms.

“You were supposed to keep the girl safe! What are you thinking taking on a wolf with a stick?” Luca snapped at Monica as he walked up and knelt beside Ricky.

“Oh, I’m so glad it’s you,” Monica said, taking a deep breath, completely ignoring Luca’s scolding. Kyle walked over and took the stick from Monica’s shaking hand.

“Let me see,” Luca instructed Tasha, who was putting pressure on Ricky's abdomen with a jacket.

Tasha lifted away the makeshift bandage, revealing the bleeding and blistering cut.

Luca gently touched the edges of the wound with his finger and brought the substance to his nose.

The foaming blood smelled of silver. The one thing that was as deadly to werewolves as the sun was to vampires.

Tasha cried out when Ricky started to cough and dig his fingers into her arm. Blood smeared his lips.

“We have to get him out of these woods,” Kyle said, looking down on the scene. “Monica, can you get a car?”

Monica nodded and then took off running in the direction of her house.

“Where are you taking him?” Tasha asked.

“Jules’s house. It’s the only place I think the pack still doesn’t know about,” Luca replied.

Luca lifted Ricky off the ground. Tasha protested as Ricky shrieked in agony. “He needs a hospital,” Tasha yelled.

“A hospital can’t help him now.” Kyle placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

Luca could feel Ricky’s blood dripping down his torso as he ran.

Kyle was keeping pace with Tasha, unwilling to leave her out in the woods on her own.

By the time they reached the edge of the woods, Monica had her car parked with the back and passenger doors open, waiting for them.

Kyle and Luca placed Ricky down on the backseat as gently as they could.

It wasn’t careful enough, because he screamed out in pain.

Luca started to crawl into the back seat with him as Monica climbed into the driver’s seat, but Tasha grabbed his arm.

“Please, let me stay with him,” she said softly, with a surprising amount of steadiness.

He said nothing, but nodded and moved away so she could hold the dying boy. She crawled in and placed Ricky’s head in her lap. He groaned in pain, grabbing her arm and holding on tightly. She then placed her jacket back onto the cut and pressed down, trying to slow the bleeding.

Luca’s heart twisted in pain. The bleeding would not be stopped, not when the wound was inflicted by a silver knife. Luca shut the door behind them and then turned to Kyle. “Go back to the car. Go and get Ricky’s mother and meet us at Jules’s house,” Luca instructed in whispering tones.

“Telling Carson’s lover where we are going is a risk,” Kyle said.

“I know,” Luca said, looking over his shoulder at the back seat. Ricky was writhing in pain while Tasha clung to him, soothing him gently. “But it’s all we can do for him now,” he continued, turning back to Kyle.

Kyle’s eyes filled with sadness for a moment and then he nodded resolutely, stepping away from the passenger door so Luca could take that seat.

They all knew Carson was an animal, but what he had just done was truly abhorrent.

This Alpha had just crossed a line that couldn’t be un-crossed.

Carson must be stopped, no matter the consequences.

“To Jules’s house,” Luca instructed.

Monica pulled away as soon as the last door was closed.

“What am I missing, Luca?” Monica asked. “Don’t werewolves have super-fast healing or something?”

“We do,” Luca replied in a low voice, trying not to be overheard. “There is only one thing that we can’t heal from.”

“Silver bullets,” Monica supplied.

“Silver of any kind. That cut will kill him.” The gravity of the situation fell over the occupants in the front seat of the car. Death was coming for the teenage boy, and Luca was powerless to stop it. Nothing could stop silver’s bane.

Carson left Demetria trembling on his rumpled sheets, ass red and welted, tear-streaked face still down in the pillows.

He was feeling satiated and more relaxed than he had in years.

He was going to win. Win the battle set before him.

He’d be rid of the traitorous infection in his ranks.

Then he would take his soon to be widowed, future queen as his own.

His heavy boots clomped down the narrow, carpeted stairs.

In the kitchen he poured himself a cup of coffee Demetria had brewed that morning.

Sipping the brown liquid he walked to the screen door as the distinct sound of a motorcycle approached.

“Speaking of my future mate,” he said aloud to himself, and the Reynolds girl screeched to a halt on her traitor husband’s motorcycle.

Jean covered thighs slipped off the bike.

Carson leaned against the doorframe, imagining those thighs straddling him instead, her back pressed to the mattress as she screamed his name.

“Well, hello gorgeous,” he crooned.

“Hello Alpha,” she smiled up at him. “May I come in?”

“Of course.” He stepped back. The screen door screeched open, then slammed shut behind her as she stepped inside. “I’m here to see Demetria.”

“Really?” he asked. Intrigued by the both at once idea. He slid forward, forcing her to step back. The wall behind her trapping her between it and his looming frame. His arm came to rest on the wall above her head.

“Unfortunately, she’s a bit indisposed at the moment.” His hand slid down the wall, trailing along the side of her soft face. “Has your father spoken to you then?”

“Um…” her captivating brown eyes glanced at his fingers which had come to rest on her bronze clavicle. “No. Sorry. I haven’t seen him.”

“Pity,” Carson crooned, hand sliding up her throat to caress her jawline, inching toward her lips.

The screen door screeched once more as Carson’s thumb began to press into the girl’s mouth, his body caressing her perky, full breasts.

“Married, Alpha.”

A firm hand pushed against his shoulder as Kyle, her not yet dead husband, stepped between them. Eyes feral, but the anger remained restrained within them.