Page 46 of Tempting Jupiter (Arena Dogs #2)

Chapter Thirty

Jupiter stood in a gilded cage, wearing little more than a cloth draped around his hips.

The only consolation was that Creek was dressed the same.

All the better for the bidders to look them over.

Creek had been a surprise. The Arena Dog had already been in Morgan St. Germaine’s slave hold when he’d arrived.

It had taken days just to get the Dog to speak to him.

Creek still hadn’t explained how he’d gotten off Roma except to say, “same as you, I expect.” He hadn’t identified his House.

Wouldn’t speak of it at all. There were several Owners of Roma, each with his or her own training house and each with different specialties.

Today, all his questions were set aside.

Today, they shared the same circumstance and on the subject of St. Germaine’s guests, they agreed.

The humans there were disgusting. So far, they’d done a good job of scaring most of them away.

His first sight of Feeona sucked the air from his lungs and drove all the blood in his body to his loins.

Then it all came crashing back to his heart, pounding with fear.

He’d half hoped she wouldn’t come for him.

He didn’t want her anywhere near the slaver.

His senses reassured him that Seneca was with her even though he couldn’t see his pack brother.

“I take it that change in your scent means the female came as you said she would.” The normally stoic Creek stepped up to stand at his shoulder. He barked a low, brief sound of interest. “ That is your human?”

Jupiter couldn’t stop the growl that vibrated up from his chest. Instinct screamed that he didn’t want Creek looking at Fee.

Especially not as she looked now. The velvet black dress she wore clung to her curves and showed off her gold-dusted, caramel skin.

The dress clung to her breasts as if by magic.

Two slender strips of cloth twisted down from the top to connect to a skirt that hung from her hips and barely covered the curve of her ass.

A gem sparkled in her navel. It matched the gem studded pins in her hair.

She’d tamed the mahogany mass into an intricate design atop her head.

A sparkly strip of smoky amber spread across her eyes, but that and the gold across her shoulders was the only makeup she’d worn.

Without the chemical she’d used to cover her skin when they met, he could smell her natural scent across the room.

Mate. Mine.

The mate bond he’d barely accepted before she’d betrayed him, flared through his senses like a jolt from a shock stick. Her scent together with Seneca’s twisted him up inside.

Creek shifted on his feet. “You didn’t tell me your pack brother is a pleasure slave. How is that even possible?”

Jupiter shook his head to clear it and then searched for Seneca.

He stood just beyond her shoulder. Jupiter barely recognized him.

It wasn’t just the animal that leapt across his muscled torso, covering his body above tight black shorts.

It wasn’t the silver circlet that ringed his throat, connecting to a chain that led to Fee’s hand.

Or the heavy color lining his lavender eyes, making them look large and exotic.

The way he moved, oozing sensuality, the way he averted his eyes in submission, the way he stood a step behind.

Jupiter wrapped his hands around the bars of his cage and squeezed.

This was a Seneca he’d known about, but never seen.

As the other bidders greeted his Feeona they ogled Seneca and he seemed to bask in their attention.

If Jupiter believed Feeona had truly taken Sen back to that abused creature he’d once been, he would have been enraged.

He didn’t believe it. Their scents told him what he needed to know.

They were equals, working together to free him.

He should have been outraged that they would put themselves in danger, and he was.

He should have been outraged even more that they would use their bodies to distract and draw the attention of the slaver.

Even now the man was smiling delighted at the sight of them across the room.

But all Jupiter could think was that he wanted to take them back to Feeona’s ship and have them play out their roles for him.

He would fuck them until they couldn’t move.

His pounding heart skipped a beat. The moisture in his mouth dried up like fallen leaves under a brilliant sun.

He didn’t just want to fuck Feeona. He wanted to fuck them both.

They were his. Both of them. He had not one, but two deceptive, secretive, dangerously sexy mates.

He threw back his head and howled. He was aware of the crowded room going silent around him.

He let the power of the howl hollow him out and fill him up again.

He rolled through it and started again. Seneca’s howl joined his.

And then Creek followed. The Dog that claimed no pack howled with them—the sound pulled from him as if he couldn’t resist the call.

Jupiter let the howl fall away, then looked for his mates.

Creek stayed blessedly silent. Fee and Sen were making their way through the guests and toward Morgan’s stage.

The large room looked very different from the day he’d arrived on the slaver’s ship.

Eight male aliens up for auction were shackled and held in place along the silver path.

The large green men were barrel-chested with muscular limbs.

They had flexible snouts and four eye stalks that moved independently.

In addition to the guests, servants wrapped in white togas offered food and drinks. In the long expanse between the cage and Morgan’s stage, waist high pillars dotted the floor, serving as tables.

“That was impressive.” The voice resonated with power and health despite the man’s age. The old man stood in front of Jupiter’s cage, smoky haired with cynical eyes. Too close.

Jupiter had been too distracted. He bared his teeth and growled to back the man off.

The man showed no fear. “I’ve seen you fight in the arena.” His tone turned sad. “With my Seneca.”

His Seneca? Muscles tight, his fists clenched, Jupiter growled again.

The man shook his head. “Speak like a man.”

Jupiter didn’t understand the tone. There was plenty of arrogance, and the voice was instructive, but nothing at all like the whip-masters who’d trained him.

“Who. Are. You.” It was hard to form the question through clenched teeth and over the growl that still vibrated in his throat.

He was afraid he knew exactly who the man was and the thought enraged him.

“Andre Cervenka. Perhaps Seneca has mentioned me?” His features softened when he spoke of Sen.

Disgust made Jupiter’s stomach twist. “He never mentioned the names of any of the humans who abused him.”

Cervenka’s tidy eyebrows lowered. “Abused him?” He shook his head, then smiled. “I loved him. Still do. And he loved me.”

Feeona and Seneca’s scents pulled at Jupiter. The knowledge that they approached kept him from reaching through the bars and ripping the man’s throat out.

Feeona stepped up alongside the man. “Children do learn to love their abusers.”

Jupiter admired her ability to confront the man in a way he could not. He relied on his might to communicate his feelings. He didn’t have the words for insults.

Cervenka’s face tightened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turned his gaze on Seneca, at Fee’s side. “Ask Seneca. He’ll tell you.”

Seneca stood like a statue with his head bowed in submission, but Jupiter scented his fear and his fury.

St. Germaine stood with them, looking amused.

Fee stepped into Cervenka’s space. “If you don’t get out of my sight, you’ll be missing the very body part you like to use against the children you rent and abuse.”

Sincerity colored Feeona’s voice, but the idiot seemed unaffected. Jupiter was affected. He loved her tough attitude and the softer side hidden beneath. Memories from when they’d first met rushed back and reminded him why he’d been unable to resist her.

“It looks like you may have fierce competition for the bidding after all, Feeona.” Morgan’s chuckle broke into Jupiter’s thoughts. “Unless Cervenka, you’re more interested in Creek. Another fine specimen.”

Feeona made a show of looking Creek up and down. “They’re both too old for this bottom feeder.”

Jupiter bit his tongue to keep from barking.

Cervenka ignored them all and instead spoke to Seneca. “You weren’t supposed to be here.”

Sen raised his head. The lavender of his eyes had darkened to near black.

Cold rage poured out of the inky depths and sarcasm dripped from every word he spoke.

“Forgive me for living after I grew too old to interest you.” Jupiter could see the role Sen played weighing him down when he’d rather have dug his fingers into the man’s eyes.

“Well…” After a moment, Cervenka turned away. “I can be gentleman enough to give you some space—for now.”

Morgan rubbed the back of his hand down Fee’s bare arm.

“I can see why you haven’t been more successful in your business.

You need me, Feeona.” He sighed dramatically.

“But I need to go calm my buyer. The man has a large fortune to spend.” St. Germaine turned on his heel to follow Andre Cervenka through the crowd.

The moment the men were out of earshot, pain bled through from the back of Feeona’s eyes.

The smoky color striped across her face made them appear large and bright, exotic and mysterious.

She stood straight and tall. The black boots she wore had thick heels and clung to her legs, stopping just above her knees.

They drew his attention to her bare thighs.

“Costumes and disguises are part of my lifestyle.” Her voice was low and husky. “But I’m still me, Jup.”