Sierra Cartwright - Doms of Dark Haven

“How do you know I'm alone?”

He grinned, causing her heart to stutter. “I know a lone wolf when I see one.”

He paused, letting her think about that. “I like lone wolves. They're always tougher at the core than those of us who've been raised in a pack. Always willing to take a risk. And when they find their place in a pack, they place a higher value on it.”

She wasn't ready, not yet. Not for a pack, but especially not for him. Her heart pounded. If she said yes, her entire life would be altered this night. If she said yes…

Her gaze dropped to the shackles. How could she submit? It went against every fiber of her being! Desperately, she changed the subject.

“Who are they?”

“Abraxas?”

She nodded. The name was familiar. It was probably the name she'd heard her mother speak of all those years ago.

“On the surface, they're a legitimate international company that deals primarily in medical research. Unfortunately they actually exist to do research on us and on others who are different. From what I've heard from the new Truckee alpha, they're trying to bioengineer soldiers with various paranormal skills. They've got hidden labs all over the world.”

Eva looked away from the alpha, not willing for him to see the impact that information had on her. Those people had taken her mother. God only knew what they'd done to her and what they planned to do to Eva once they caught her. If they caught her. She clenched her hands, anger trumping any grief that she felt. All those years ago, she'd been a helpless kid. She'd sworn vengeance for her mother but known that it was a vengeance she'd probably never see. Now she had a name…

Abraxas.

“How long have you been able to shift?” His voice was soft but firm.

Eva blinked quickly, gaining control of her emotions. “A couple of years. I lived up in the park, and one night I woke up trapped in my sleeping bag. I remember being surprised that I could see so well in the darkness.”

“That means you're sexually mature. They want females of childbearing age.”

That meant they would never stop hunting her. As long as she was alone, she was a target. She needed every tool, every weapon that this alpha could give her. It would be worth any price that she had to pay.

Eva looked at the stranger, and oddly, he didn't seem unfamiliar anymore. His scent was embedded in her brain. She knew every plane of his face. If she let her imagination run free, she could picture the hard brown body under the suit. His wolf was dark brown; its eyes, molten gold. Her fingers tickled with the feel of his fur under her hand. He would be swift…

“What's your name?” If she was going to submit to a stranger, she should at least know that much about him.

“Harte Sommers.” He reached out and offered his hand. She had to move to him to shake it. He was certainly a manipulative bastard! Yet his hand was warm and strong, and he didn't let go.

“Evangeline Jones. Call me Eva.”

“Jones?” He quirked a brow, smiling slightly.

No, that wasn't her real last name. She'd left it behind when her mother had been taken. There were plenty of Joneses listed in the phone book. Details like that slowed down the hunters.

She looked down at where their hands joined; his skin was the warm brown of someone with genetics other than Anglo. Her skin was the lily-white of Ireland and Scotland. Someday she hoped she could find her missing family and learn exactly who she really was. For now, she was Eva Jones.

She looked at Harte, awaiting his instructions. Her jaw was so tight it ached.

Submission went against her nature; Eva had no illusions about that. But for tonight, she would bend.

She saw a flare of triumph in his eyes, and the stirrings of hunger laced his scent. Again her body responded to his. He already knew her answer. He pulled her to stand in front of him. They were so close she could feel heat rising from his body.

“Yes or no, Eva?”

Back to that. Could she really submit to this man? Granted, he was an alpha, but hell, Eva had always had issues with authority. While she'd never returned to school once her mother had disappeared, she'd attained an education of sorts, haunting libraries and slipping into the shadows in university lecture halls. For years she'd studied kendo under a noted fight-master. Unlike the other students, she'd never called the man “sensei,” in spite of her great respect for him.

If this man wanted her to call him “Master,” could she do it?

“Yes.”

That was all she needed to say. The rest would follow. If he truly could teach her to survive on her own, then it would be worth the humiliation.

“Tonight you will begin to learn two sets of rules. The first are the rules of this world, the behavior of a submissive toward her dominant.”

Eva nodded. She hadn't lived in San Francisco without learning about the alternate lifestyles that flourished here.

“The second set of rules is more important to you—to us. It is the protocol of the wolf pack. Much of that is already imprinted on your genes.” She glanced at him and then glanced away.

“See? You avoid holding my gaze because I'm dominant to you, as you will be dominant to some. Your head is turned away slightly. Doing so opens your throat to me. Do you understand what that means?”

She fought the impulse to back away. “It means I'm offering my throat—my jugular.”

“Would you do that if your wolf didn't trust me?”

The floor nearly opened under her feet at that revelation. Her heart raced, and the hairs on her neck rose. “If the wolf didn't trust you, I'd not give you my throat.

I'd never look away.”

He nodded in approval. “Back to the rules out there. While you are my submissive, you will keep your eyes cast down. Don't speak unless you are spoken to. If you wish to speak to me, call me 'Master.'”

Her jaw tightened.

“That one doesn't work for you?”

Wordlessly, she shook her head.

“Sir, then.”

Sir. That, she could do. She did it in the store all the time. Eva nodded, keeping her gaze averted. It seemed he was willing to be flexible.

“When I introduce you to other dominants, you will formally address them as

'Master' or 'Mistress.' Save for my pack and a few select others, I won't introduce you to submissives.”

He folded his arms. The dark frock coat pulled tightly across his arms and shoulders. Once again she was unable to hold his gaze.

“You aren't a complete stranger to this world, are you? You've been curious enough to do a little research.”

Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “I make corsets for a living. I have to know a little about fetish.”

“Good. That will make things easier.” He reached out and ran his thumb over her bottom lip again and then slipped it inside her mouth. Eva froze, feeling the tip of his digit hook over her bottom teeth. Confused as to how to react, she remained perfectly still. Using his thumb as a hook, he pulled her closer.

“Now, Eva, we begin your education. The first thing you will do is remove your clothing.” He smiled, seeing rebellion cross her expression. He slipped his thumb from her mouth and stood back, a wicked smile on his face.

“All of it. But leave the corset and thong. Stockings and boots too. I like those.”

She took a deep breath and reluctantly began to disrobe. She growled softly the entire time.

Harte had no idea how he managed to survive that short time in the interrogation room. When the little wolf began to unbutton her blouse, he leaned back against the table, gripping the edges hard. If he didn't, he'd either grab her and take her down to the floor right then, or grab himself and get much too far ahead of the game.

Initially she was embarrassed as she undressed, but as she struggled and pulled her blouse free from under her corset, her fair skin flushed, and she bit her plump bottom lip. She stepped out of the long purple skirt, then glanced at him and blushed. She wasn't bashful—she was pissed as hell. That turned him on even more.

The pink-and-white-striped corset cinched her waist and cupped her breasts lovingly. The pink matched the cotton-candy streaks in her black hair. She wore a matching thong over the top of the garters.

She might not have dressed with sex in mind, but she knew what needed to come off first. Her fragrance surrounded him, and he nearly went dizzy with arousal. She was cotton candy and musk, and her arousal was laced with fury. That was good; as long as she was angry, she wasn't afraid.

Finally she stood before him, defiant in her feigned submission. Later it wouldn't be an act, but for now, her willingness to put herself into his hands was enough. It wasn't enough to keep the wolf from howling in his brain and scrabbling to break free.

Want!

Harte had scented her the moment she'd stepped into the building. He'd been negotiating a scene with a young human when he'd caught her fragrance. He'd probably been rude to the sub, but he'd apologize later. At that moment it had become imperative to track his prey.

Her scent had been laced with adrenaline when she'd entered the building and then panic as she'd stepped into the club. He'd managed to catch her just before she bolted.

Mate!

No, not mate. But a damned alluring female just the same. Mating was for life, and Harte was far from ready for a lifetime commitment. He had enough to deal with in managing his unruly little pack of wolves.