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Six guards followedus into Henric’s home office. The space was a dark mahogany indulgence with a massive desk, several Italian leather club chairs and a four-seat couch in the same material. The room was an extension to the house that my mother had been raised in, Henric claiming the property in the same breath he had claimed her.
I wondered if she had any happy memories in the structure before my grandfather forced her to marry the man I now knew to be my stepfather. For me, there were a handful, but each one was marked with Justine’s presence and Henric’s complete absence.
“Did you see these?” Henric murmured at two of the guards. Instead of showing them on his phone, he swiped at the screen and sent it to them. “That cunt is finally getting the treatment she deserves.”
“Well,” Doone bellowed in the way Kalchik often did. “When you want a pussy properly punished or trained, send in a wolf, hmm?”
Laughter erupted, half of it genuine. I would have preferred not being reminded of how the big wolf had been all up in my pussy beforehand. Well, his fingers. There hadn’t been time for more. And none of it had been appropriate occurring while my mother was being ground down under the heel of Henric’s thousand-dollar boots.
“We’ll gladly give her more of the same and worse,” Goran and Joab rumble-purred as they salivated over the pictures of my bloody face.
Fear and anger fought inside me. I wanted to rip out their throats, stomp on their boy bits, and stuff them down the throats I had just torn out.
Instead I pushed my belly against the floor and whined, the direction of my snout pointing at one of the hidden weapon caches Henric kept in his office.
Could he have moved it? My nose suggested he had not.
“Sassy little bitch,” Henric frowned. Getting up from the shelter of his desk, he prowled over to the chair Doone sat in.
My stepfather’s hand landed on my back close to where my tail started.
“This little she-wolf smells familiar,” he mused. “Did I fuck her on my last trip to your compound?”
Fear threatened to gut my insides, especially when his fingertips briefly combed through the fur. He was right over the spot Doone claimed was marked with a small heart instead of the more regular gray paint splotches of my panther.
But there were no spots on my wolf’s coat. Doone had checked me—thoroughly, his thick fingertips intimately grazing my skin until I forgot for a heartbeat about all the hellfire waiting to rain down on us if our true identities were exposed.
“Never this one,” Doone rumbled. “I’m the only one who has touched her.”
“Was she born to your pack?” Henric asked.
Acid roiled my gut as certain scents began to ooze from my stepfather.
He was becoming aroused.
What the fuckity-fuck-fuck?
“No,” Doone growled.
Knowing Henric had visited Kalchik on several occasions, we had anticipated the question.
“I thought she might be one of Zara’s…”
Dipping his head, Henric began to sniff along my spine. His hand seized the base of my tail and—
“My money,” Doone snarled, fangs sprouting and his face shoving to within an inch of Henric’s foul mug before the leopard could touch me more intimately.
Henric stood, the stark outline of an erection visible against his silk dress pants. Returning to his desk, he opened a drawer, pulled out a padded envelope, and tossed it at Doone.
Doone tossed it back without opening it.
“Too thin,” he said, his voice gruff.
A razor-sharp smile appeared on Henric’s face. “All you have is a picture showing me youhadthe little bitch. Maybe she escaped, maybe you killed her.”
Doone shrugged. “True, but why give me any money at all?”
“Good faith, something for you to hold other than your cock while my guards escort you back to your territory with a bag stuffed with hundreds.”
