Finding Love

"Ah shit," he groaned, arcing in her grip.

"Is-is-is this okay?"

"Fucking hell, yes! I just didn't expect you..."

His eyes rolled back in his head and his cock jumped against her lips as she blew at the moist head of his dick. Haltingly, she tasted him, running her tongue over the top of his cock, and then eased the head into her mouth, sucking on it as she rolled his balls in the other hand.

"Ahhh," he hissed as her untrained, wet... Christ, her virginal mouth encased him.

On her knees between his legs she cut her eyes up at him. He watched her slowly take him deeper into her mouth until she hit her gag reflex.

"Only take what you can handle," he moaned.

He knew that his control was on a slippery slope as he watched her lips move up and down his length. The tightening in his balls told him that his control was being tested and he was going to lose this particular battle.

"Aw, god, gonna cum. Pull off, my sweet!"

Quickly she pulled back as his hand captured hers and they stroked him to orgasm. Cum shot up his chest as his hip thrust again, and again. He reached his arm out to brush a lock of hair from her face as he started to fade away, the dream ending.

"No! Wait! What's your name!" he yelled.

The last thing Ivy saw was a tattoo on his forearm of a shield with a crown in the middle.

* * * *

Seeing that her father would force her into a match no matter what, Ivy made plans to run. Her father went right on planning her mating to Zan as Ivy became more and more despondent. She felt so alone, so unwanted. Well, someone wanted her... that male from the dream.

"Oh god, that couldn't have been a dream. Could it? Maybe it was a vision," Ivy sighed, replaying the whole thing in her head. "Could he be the one, my mate? My wolf sure seems to think so."

The dream has been too real, and her response to her dream lover had been... well, overwhelming. He was everything she had ever wanted in a mate: loving, kind, and dominate without making her feel like less than him. How would she find him? Who was he? Did he even exist?

Later, when her mother brought her meal of bread and water, Ivy was told that during the party her father he planned to give her Zan officially. Ivy, on the other hand, planned to be long gone. If the man in her dream was real, if he existed, she planned to find him. Ivy spent the day locked in her small room, making plans.

Finally the day of Ivy's birthday dawned clear and crisp.

Ivy was packed and ready to go before the sun peeped over the horizon. Just as she slipped down the stairs, taking care not to step one the ones that squeaked, the front door opened and there stood her father. And he had five hulking, muscular men with him. Panicking, Ivy dropped her bag, and ran for her room, hoping she'd be able to jump through the window and escape that way. She never made it. Two of the men caught her at the top of the stairs and dragged her to her room.

"No! Let go of me!" Ivy yelled, fighting every step of the way. "Get your hands off me!"

Ivy's father stepped up to her and slapped her hard across the face. "Thought you'd run, huh? I should toss your worthless ass out into the street with nothing but the clothes on your back, but I won't. I won't be embarrassed in such a way. You'll marry the man I chose or I'll offer you to the Wolfland Pack. You want that, girl?"

Ivy dropped her head, defeat in every line of his body as she was pushed toward the bed. The Wolfland Pack was the most feared pack of werewolves in the western part of America. The things that were whispered about them made others keep away. Dear god, and their leader was reputed to be the most vicious of them all; a cold man that wouldn't hesitate to destroy anyone that got in the way of what he wanted. The pack was reputed to be involved in the human business world, too. Their influence and power was whispered to reach to the top of the government. No one crossed them... no one.

"Tie her to the bed until I return," Ivy's father said. "And if any of you touch her, I'll offer you to the Wolfland Pack."

"Please dad, don't do this," Ivy begged quietly as she was held down. "Don't make me do this. Doesn't my happiness mean anything to you?"

"Your happiness?" Dolmas sneered, then leaned in and spoke softly. "I don't give a damn about your happiness, girl. Hell, I'm not even sure you're my child. Your mother ran from me. Took me several months to find her, and within a month after she's back she's pregnant. I never wanted a girl child, but I damn well won't be made into a laughing stock in my own village by one such as you. You will marry Zan, even if I have to drag you to him tied and gagged. And Ivy, he'd probably like that."

Ivy watch in dismay as she father smirked at her, and then left the room, leaving her alone with these evil looking men. Shock overwhelmed her at what her father had said. Her mother had never even hinted that she could be a bastard, much less ran from her father!

But that explained so much... Her father's careless disregard to her feelings, lack of affection, and his disapproval she always sensed. Ivy didn't fight as they tied her arms to the bed, then her feet. Slowly she came out of the haze and fear rose swiftly, a foul taste in her mouth when she realized just how helpless she was now.

"A bastard, huh?" the nearest man said, eyeing Ivy's tied body. "Maybe we could-"

"Not touch her," the leader broke in. "Her father is one crazy son of a bitch. We stay here; keep his daughter under lock and key until time. Then we get our pay, and get the hell out of here."

Ivy lay tied to the bed, eyes closed as she listened to everyone moving around downstairs. All her plans were slowly dissolving before her eyes, and she was trapped; trapped by the one person who was supposed to love her. And the only thing that person cared about was his reputation. Determined not to cry, Ivy focused her mind, trying to figure a way out of this mess. Desperation made her pray for someone, anyone to save her.

* * * *

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Holland asked as Daylon made another loop around the Inner Chambers. "You've been pacing since we got here."

Holland was a younger man in his late twenties, and Daylon's second in command. His short brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, and baby face often reminded the girls of a cute puppy. But he was a holy terror in battle, thus earning the rank of First Lieutenant to his pack.

"I... don't know," Daylon replied as he stopped to look out one of the windows. "I have this feeling of anguish, of desperation. I can't sit still, and I feel like I need to... Damn, I don't know; I just feel like I need to do something."

Daylon was the Alpha Leader of his wolf pack. He turned thirty not long ago and controlled one of the strongest wolf packs in the area.

"When did this start?" Holland asked as he moved closer to Daylon.

"Early this morning, and it's getting worse," Daylon said as he closed his eyes. "I'm needed. I need to be somewhere. There's this feeling of helplessness-"

"Fuck. Is Sam still here?" Holland asked, seeing his friend's distress. "Maybe he can see something, see what's causing this."

"Yeah, he's in the garden. Hurry Holland, the feeling of... finality is getting worse, and there's fear mixed in now. Damn it, I'm about ready to crawl out of my skin."

"Be right back," Holland said, walking out of the room quickly.

Several minutes later Holland and Sam returned. Sam was a tall, well-built man with short, dark brown hair that had gray around the temple and deep set brown eyes. His skin had an olive tone of a Mediterranean heritage. He was a psychic and was high in their Council hierarchy.

"Sit down, my friend," Sam said. "I can't do this and chase you around the room, too."

"Hurry, Sam," Daylon said quietly as he sat. "I can't shake the feeling that something is horribly wrong."

Taking several deep breathes; Sam closed his eyes and emptied his mind of the usual day-to-day issues and problems that exists in ones conscience. Once his mind was a cleared field, he opened himself, embracing the psychic current that flowed around all living things. Holland dragged a chair over for Sam. Opening his eyes, he sat down.

"Close your eyes, and try to focus on what you feel the most," Sam said. "See it; hold it close to you so that I can see it too."

"Yeah, okay. I'm trying to," Daylon replied while he focused on the worse of the feelings.

Several minutes passed as Sam followed the link he had found. And it was a strong one, too. An image exploded in his head of someone, and Sam cringed. There, tied to a bed, was a beautiful young woman with clear, pale skin and dark red hair. The horror, desperation, and fear in those lovely emerald eyes slammed into Sam with the force of an earthquake.

Sweating lightly, he looked around the room, taking note that the young woman wasn't alone. Five rough looking men were with her, and seemed to be holding her captive. The white-washed room was small, and plainly furnished. It held a small bed, and a beat up dresser. An ugly, old desk held a small TV and laptop. Glancing out the window Sam noticed a mature tree close to the bedroom that had branches' scraping the window. Moving to the window he looked out, hoping to find something that could pin-point where this little hideous room was located.

Nothing, Sam thought. Sighing deeply, he tried to focus on the conversation in the room.

Listening to the conversation, Sam hoped to find a clue who she was or where she was being held. Moments later a large man walked into the room, and Sam shuddered. This was the clue he needed, the answer to the puzzle of where this was taking place. The man was Dolmas O'Farrell and was well known for his hot-headed, heavy-handed attitude.

Dear merciful lord, Sam thought, looking at the young woman. Could she be...?

The young woman tied to the bed had the same red hair and green eyes as Dolmas's wife, Mary, Sam remembered. He growled silently as he noticed that there were bruises on her face and arms. Since Sam was seeing all this through Daylon, he decided to test something. Taking a step closer to the young woman on the bed Sam gently touched her arm... and the reaction was immediate in all three.

She moaned softly on the bed, surprise on her face. Sam vision wavered as he was pounded by the emotions from both her and Daylon. He clearly saw the golden colored threads that were wrapping around the woman, and watched as they reached out, moving past Sam to arch through space toward Daylon. Sam felt the desire, burning brightly, that flowed between the two. Daylon suddenly grabbed the chair arms as his body reacted to the red haired woman on the bed.

"Fucking hell, that's her!" Daylon hissed. "The one from my dreams. I'd know that innocence anywhere. What the hell is going on, Sam?"

"That, my friend, is your mate," Sam said, as the vision faded out. "And she's an O'Farrell. Her name is Ivy."

* * * *

Ivy struggled to hide her reaction. For a few brief moments there had been the figure of a shadowy man in her room. The other men in the room with her didn't react to him, so she assumed only she could see him. He moved around the room, searching; it seemed like he was trying to figure out what was going on around him. When he moved closer to her, she tried not to show any reaction.

Then he touched her, and Christ almighty, the ability to remain calm abandoned her. But he wasn't the one that caused her body to react. She saw the golden colored threads that wrapped around her body reaching out past the shadowy man to... him. The one from her dream. He was sitting in a chair and the threads lazily drifted through the air until they touched him, and desire slammed the both of them.

Straining to hear what he was frantically saying, she watched in disbelief was the vision, or whatever it was, faded. Despair flooded her as he vanished from her sight.

"Nooo..." she whispered softly.

"What?" One of the men in the room, Molar, demanded.

"Nothing," Ivy said, turning her head away.

"Look, you little-"

"Leave her alone," Faulk, their leader, snapped. "Just leave her the hell alone."

"What's up your ass, man?" Molar asked.

"I have... I have a bad feeling about this," Faulk replied. "A very bad feeling. I could've sworn I saw... It seemed like there was someone here in the room with us. Telepathy. And for a second I thought I saw... his Alpha."

The other men in the room shifted nervously. Their leader was well known for his 'feelings' and it didn't pay to ignore them.

"Shit. Only one pack has members with that ability, and I damn sure don't wanna fuck with them. Are you saying we should back out of this job?" Molar asked. "If so, you need to tell us now, man. The last time we ignored one of your damn feelings, we lost two members of our group."

"Yeah," Faulk said slowly. "Yeah, we need to get ghost. This shit is fixing to blow up, especially if that was who I think it was. We want no part of what's coming down."

The men were moving to the door when Dolmas opened it.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"We're outta here," Faulk replied.

"The hell you are. I paid you for a job and-"

"Keep your damn money. We're clearing out, now."

"What the hell is going on? You're reputed to be some of the most fearless mercenaries around," Dolmas said.

"Look man, you got a shit storm coming down on you, and we want no part of it. So get the hell out of the way," Faulk said.

"Damn it, what are you talking about?" Dolmas exclaimed.

"That girl has a mate and he's coming for her, and soon, unless I miss my guess. And we don't plan to be here when he shows up," Faulk said as he pushed pass Dolmas.

"Of course she has a mate, I chose him myself. You were told that in the beginning," Dolmas said, his annoyance clear as he following them down the stairs. "She's gonna be mated to him shortly."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Faulk replied as he and his men walked to their cars.

"Fine, you bunch of pussies. I'll deal with this myself."

"You better tread carefully, old man. That's all I'm gonna say," Faulk said as he closed the door in Dolmas' face.

"Get the hell off my property then," Dolmas growled. "You worthless-"

"Listen up, Pops. If her mate is who I think it is, you better make nice, you got me? You don't wanna tangle with this asshole who's her mate, trust me."

"She's my daughter, and she'll marry who I say. You got me?" Dolmas snarled.

Faulk stared at the old man. "Don't say I didn't warn ya."

* * * *

Dolmas stormed back up to Ivy's room, slammed the door open and unsheathed his knife. Frantically Ivy shook her head as her father approached. Uncaring if he nicked the tender skin on her hands and feet, he cut the ropes that bound her. Opening her closet, he grabbed a long, flowing white dress and threw it at her.

"You got thirty minutes to make yourself presentable," Dolmas snarled. "Do not disobey, girl, or I'll haul you to Zan in the first thing I grab. Maybe this nice sheer night gown. Take a shower and get ready. And your brothers are near, just in case."

Yanking the door shut, he left Ivy sitting in the bed, trying to still her pounding heart. The fear she felt when her father burst in to the room with that knife... Thrusting her hair out of her face, she eyed that hateful dress. An overwhelming need to rip to pieces, cut it into tiny little shreds had Ivy up and moving towards it before she caught herself.

Glancing down, she noticed her claws had lengthened. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to leave the damn dress alone. Her father's threat rang clearly in her mind. Moving slowly to the bathroom, Ivy finally gave up hope. There was no escape, no way to stop what her father planned. She would have to marry Zan, be his mate, and hope to god he wasn't as bad as she had heard.

* * * *

"That name," Daylon growled. "Where have I heard that name before?"

"Her father is a village Elder. He's a right bastard, too," Sam said. "But Daylon... We have a problem. From what I overheard while I was in that room he plans to mate her, unwillingly, to someone. Today. As in very fucking soon."

A loud, savage growl sounded that had everyone's attention focused on Daylon immediately. His eyes turned bright yellow, and his long, sharp fangs dropped down. The wolf in him was taking over.

"Oh... fuck that! I'll rip the bastard apart with my bare hands!" Daylon snarled. "She's mine!"

"Damn it to hell and back!" Holland yelled. "Get it under control, man! We got a limited amount of time, and no time for you to go all caveman on us!"

Daylon stood in the Inner Chamber, fist clenched, and fought his wolf back, barely. "Where is she?"

"Their village is on the southern border of our territory," Sam said. "If we drive like a bat out of hell we might be there in forty-five minutes. Maybe."

"We leave now! Gather fifteen of our best warriors and meet me in the compound's garage," Daylon said.

"Thank god we got back from New York a couple of days ago," Holland said as Daylon stormed out. "Shit. Think we'll make it?"

"God help us all if we don't," Sam said, frantically calling the best warriors they had. "He'll kill her mate, you know that, right? Then claim her. And her father won't escape his wrath either. Jesus, if he's the one that put those bruises on her-"

"Let's fucking go! Now!" Daylon yelled.

"Fuck," Sam mumbled. "Holland, try to keep him from killing anyone this time, okay?"

"Do what I can," Holland said.

Three black Escalades torn out of the compound.

* * * *

Ivy was dressed and waiting for her father. Her mother had come to her room earlier to help button up the god-awful long line of buttons that went down the back of the dress. It was a beautiful, wispy dress that hugged her upper body, and flared out around her hips. It ended past her knees and was covered in lace. The bodice fit her breasts perfectly, and was sleeveless with a deep v-cut neck. The final touch was the flower wedding veil made from daisies.

"Please, sweetie," Ivy's mother, Mary, pleaded. "Try to make the best of this union."

"Stop, mom," Ivy said, her mind numb. "I'm being forced into this match. I don't want this, everyone knows that. But what I do want to know one thing. Is it true?"

"What... do you mean?" Mary asked.

"Am I a bastard?"

"Sweet Mother of God, no you are not!" she cried. "I have no idea why or how your father got that idea-"

"He hates me," Ivy said, tears in her eyes. "And the feeling is mutual, too."

"Sweetie-"

"No, don't you "sweetie" me. I'll never forgive him for this. Damn it, why did you go back to him? You should have never come back, mom. He treats you just as bad as me!"

"You're assuming I had a choice," Mary said quietly.

"Christ."

"Not another word, honey. I hear him coming," she said.

The walk to their packs Inner Chambers was the longest in Ivy's life. She noted that there was a flower encased arch, done in daisy's to match her veil, at the rear of the chamber. She wondered how they had managed to get things together so fast, then decided that she could care less. Ten minutes later Ivy and her dad were standing before the Alpha of their pack. Ivy stood, swaying next to the male she would be mated to her the rest of her life. Many of their pack had attended.

* * * *

"Hurry, damn it! Times running out," Daylon snarled. "Sweat to god, if he touches her I'll-"

"You need to calm down, Daylon," Sam said. "We need to do this, if possible, with no bloodshed. Fuck, man, don't turn this into a blood bath! Again."

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Shit. Look, as long as no one gets in my way, we're cool. Otherwise, no promises," Daylon replied.