The Royal Lycan Ch. 02

"Why all the guns?" Tessa blurted.

Hector looked amused. "I'm sorry?"

"Everyone seems to have one." Her eyes darted to Hector's silver handgun carelessly left on a desk by the wall.

"Would you like one?" he smiled.

"C-C-Can I?" she stammered with more surprise than enthusiasm.

"Of course," he shrugged. "But these things should be personalised. Pavel will help you design one to your tastes."

Tessa bit her lip, understanding she wasn't getting a weapon in the near future, and also aware that Hector deliberately hadn't answered her question.

"So, I have to ask," Hector continued conversationally, "How was your time with Jett?"

"J-Jett?" Tessa stuttered.

Jett. The big, scary guy who'd pounced on her when she practically stepped from the shower, bullied her into his care and imprisoned her in a safehouse. Who'd stared at her with intense grey eyes that sparkled yellow; eyes that she suddenly ached to see again. The man who'd burst into her prison, tore her dress and buried his face between her legs like it was his heaven. And it'd felt like her heaven.

"Tessa?"

"F-Fine. He was fine," she said hurriedly, her cheeks tellingly flushed. "May I have a glass of wine?"

Hector hesitated. "I don't think that's optimal for your health, Tessa. You don't mind if I call you 'Tessa' instead of 'Theresa'?"

"I'm not Theresa," Tessa said stubbornly.

"I guessed you might feel that way," he shrugged dismissively. "I thought you might feel closer to me if I use a name you're accustomed to, for now."

"I feel like..." Tessa swallowed nervously. "I feel like I don't have any choices."

"It depends how you want to see it," Hector said conversationally, aptly spearing vegetables with his fork. The fork wavered by his mouth. "The way you frame the situation is entirely your choice," he finished, taking the bite.

"Was Jett telling the truth about what you want with me?" Tessa asked stiltedly.

"Probably," Hector answered without concern, tossing back the rest of his water. Then he changed the subject.

Tessa forced herself to eat, to be polite and because she sensed she was going to need physical stamina for whatever upheaval was in store. The property seemed to be swarming with armed men, which wasn't promising for an escape. If she could get her hands on a phone...

"So, Jett wasn't rough with you?" Hector enquired, startling Tessa from her anxious thoughts. By the look on his face, her answer was important, and she wondered what was behind the question.

"He was fine," she answered uncomfortably. "He said your interests in me are inappropriate," she blurted before she could stop herself. The fear of it had weighed heavily since she was informed, and it was better to know than wonder.

Hector stiffened, his blue eyes turned cold and Tessa had the distinct feeling of accidentally getting another person in trouble.

"Inappropriate?" Hector queried. "Jett implied I was punching above my weight?"

"No, I mean he implied...that your intentions toward me are... er...sort of...intimate," Tessa awkwardly explained. It didn't sound quite right to say 'romantic'.

"He told you I am going to marry you and try for an heir?" Hector frankly clarified.

When Tessa didn't answer, Hector smiled to himself as he placed his utensils down. Tessa shivered at his expression; it wasn't a nice smile. Worst of all, he wasn't exactly rushing to reassure her that he wasn't planning those things. In fact, he'd stated it with certainty, something already set in stone.

"Hector, please don't rape me," she said quietly.

"You don't find me attractive?" he lightly queried, letting the robe slip over his shoulders. "Maybe I'm not your type, but I'm not a gargoyle. And I've been celibate since I found out you were alive. You could say I'm heavily invested in our future."

Tessa looked away from his newly exposed torso, rippling muscle. He seemed more threatening than tempting, especially the intense way he was looking at her. She wrung her hands under the table. "Please, Hector. You're scaring me."

After a long, contemplative stare, Hector slowly drew his robe back over his shoulders. "I'm sorry, Tessa. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Guess I overestimated my flirtation skills," he concluded with a wry chuckle.

Immensely relieved, Tessa chugged the rest of her water, almost choking on it.

"I'm surprised you haven't asked about your parents," Hector remarked.

Tessa stiffened and set her glass down. "I don't talk about them."

"I can tell you everything you want to know," Hector shrugged. "I thought you'd be curious."

Tessa shook her head. "I don't want to go there."

The more time that passed, the more convinced Tessa was that she'd been thrust into a world of lunatics who'd mistaken her for someone else. She didn't need to break open the sore topic of parentage.

Hector carefully watched the shift in her expressions, the hint of a smile forming when he saw her face set with a stony determination.

With slow deliberation, he drew a slip of paper from his robe and placed it on the table, watching the colour drain from Tessa's face.

"Your mother was exceptionally stunning," he mused. "Maybe she was prettier than you, but you're definitely more elegant, and I prefer that."

Tessa didn't hear Hector's insulting assessment as her fingers slowly curled over the edge of the table.

She gazed at a photograph of the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. Honey-gold hair and impossibly large, turquoise eyes, full lips spread in a beaming, charismatic grin.

Tessa saw her four-year old self, timidly holding her mother's hand. She was quite a plain child, with dull, ash-brown hair and ordinary features. Her good looks blossomed when she hit puberty, a pleasant surprise.

Strangely, despite the beauty variance, Tessa noted she did look uncannily like her mother.

Hector's voice cut through her thoughts, voicing her observation. "Weird, isn't it? You look exactly like her, but very different at the same time."

"But...where did you get this?" she asked hoarsely, her mind spinning to connect how her life made any sense. It couldn't be real.

Hector shrugged. "It's not the only thing I found in my search for you."

Tessa felt very close to fainting again, nodding her thanks when Hector poured another glass of water. The picture would have been taken the same year her family was broken.

Staring at the image, she began to remember small, indistinct experiences; the warmth of her mother's smile, soft kisses, a vanilla perfume. The sweet scent was safety; a place to burrow and hide from shouting crowds and flashing lights.

"I knew the second we met, you didn't believe any of this," Hector sighed. "I know your history is tragic, and I thought this might be the best way to-"

"I'm going to be sick," Tessa uttered, pushing back from the table.

"Tessa-"

Before Hector could get a hold on her, Tessa staggered from her seat and rushed to Hector's ensuite, falling to her knees to retch into the toilet. She could sense Hector standing in the doorway behind her.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked.

Still fighting to catch her breath, Tessa rested her forehead on the ceramic bowl, letting its coolness soothe the heat in her face.

"Tessa?" Hector prompted, coming closer. "I can get anything you need."

Tessa laughed weakly into the bowl, mulling over the things she couldn't have. Privacy, freedom, Jett...

Coughing, Tessa pondered why she was still thinking about him. She wanted that guy in a way that was completely baffling. He brought her into this mess. He didn't care about her.

"I'd like to go back to my room," she muttered.

"No problem," Hector replied, and pulled out his phone.

There was something extra humiliating about being carried back to her room by Luca. Soon Tessa lay limply on a soft surface, and Luca went about turning on lights and lowering the setting to a gentle glow.

"Has it passed?" he asked.

Tessa's eyes flew open to perceive Luca expectantly standing over her, hands on hips. He was in a suit, with a large gun tucked into the waist-section and looked like he didn't belong in her room.

"What?"

He sympathetically tilted his head. "The nausea. Do you think you'll be sick again?"

"No, I'm alright now," Tessa mumbled, lightly shaking her head. "It was just a shock."

"I understand." He paused, and when she didn't speak, he continued. "I'll be back with the standard sick-kit; water, vitamins, soup and crackers. If you crave something hot, we can have it made up, just let me know."

"I-It's ok, you don't have to come back," Tessa answered in a small hopeful voice.

Luca laughed. "So, Hector left me to explain the sleeping arrangement." He pointed across the room to a large daybed lining the wall. "That's where I sleep."

"What? Why?"

He just grinned and walked out. Before Tessa could get her hopes up, a stranger entered and stood against the door, watching her. He was in a dark blue uniform, like a paramedic, except he was wearing a shotgun.

"Who are you?" Tessa asked feebly.

The armed man appeared prepared for anything but questions. He opened his mouth and then closed it. It was an awkward moment, but Tessa was too upset to care.

"Well, don't call me 'Theresa'," she snapped, getting under the covers and turning her back on the guard.

***

Waking up the next day was strange. Tessa suffered a completely blank moment, surrounded by unfamiliar finery. Busy frowning at the big window streaming morning sun across the bed, she jumped with fright when a man cleared his throat from the other side of the room.

It was Luca. He had changed into more casual clothes; black jeans, boots. Still high quality, just minus the sombre suit and intimidating gun. Tessa suspected he had a gun, somewhere.

"I have to go out," he said indifferently, straightening his shirt. The material was crisp and blue, sort of striking against his tanned skin. He strode to a wall mirror and checked his reflection.

Tessa blinked with confusion. There was an air of preoccupied excitement about him; similar to before a job interview or first date. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"Never you mind," Luca dismissed her query, giving his handsome mirror image a rueful smile and lightly ruffling his dark hair. "I'll be back before lunch. Hector knows."

"Oh."

Someone knocked, and Luca checked his watch. "About time." He opened the door and had a quiet word to a man on the other side, before turning back to Tessa.

"He has breakfast for you. If you want anything or go anywhere, let Steve know and he'll arrange it, if it's possible," he added, opening the door wider.

The visitor, a large, ruddy young man who blushed the moment Luca acknowledged him, waved awkwardly to Tessa before stepping into the room with a tray balanced in one hand. Tessa didn't smile, noticing the side of his jacket was caught up with butt-end of a large revolver poking out of his waistband.

***

A tall redhead casually strutted down a quiet street, using her teeth to tear open a small chip packet. In brown ankle boots and small denim shorts, she was very leggy. With hair cut almost boyishly short, it was very thick and tousled attractively around her head.

She had naturally plump lips and enormous blue eyes fringed with black lashes, accentuated by eyeliner that created a raw, edgy effect. Despite having a charming 'doll-face', she clearly wasn't a woman to be messed with.

Reaching her ride, she swallowed the last of the crisps with a gulp of contempt and irritably cocked her head at the man straddling Bill's motorcycle.

"Hey, Cat." Luca leaned forward onto the handlebars, stretching his broad shoulders out. His dark eyes ran interestedly up the length of her smooth legs, over the sexy black tank-top to rest on her angry face. "How are you?"

"How the fuck did you know I was here?" Cat snapped.

Smiling flirtatiously, Luca mysteriously shrugged.

"Get off my bike," Cat said stonily, throwing the food packet into a nearby bin. "What do you want?" she demanded, when Luca didn't move.

"I saw your friend yesterday," he said conversationally.

"You mean my husband?" Cat tartly corrected him.

Luca ignored her point. "He looks like a regular boring human fella to me," he drawled, his dark eyes went reflectively to the sky. "Funny when we were kids, you said we couldn't be together because I wasn't wolf enough. Then you went and married a human anyway. I've always wondered why."

"Bill's dick is really big?" Cat said helpfully.

"So are the scars on his wrists." Luca showed his teeth in a malicious grin. "Shame he didn't die."

Cat rolled her eyes and impatiently sucked her lower lip between her teeth, removing tasty salt remnants.

"You know, when Hector gets the throne, a lot is going to change," Luca continued, trailing a finger along the handlebars. "It's not too late to choose me."

Unmoved, Cat blankly stared at him.

Luca raised his eyebrows. "You're not curious at all about the girl Bill transferred? I could tell you some of it over a drink."

Cat laughed disdainfully. "Get your ass off my bike, Luca."

After a heavy pause, Luca took his time removing himself and stood close by the front of the motorcycle. Cat scowled when she hopped on. The warmth of the seat made her want to scream. That, and she was facing Luca in a submissive position. She glared at his grip on the handlebar. "I notice you're still a dickhead."

"And you've been a bitch since you turned sixteen," he returned with slight aggression, very aroused looking down at her. She was eye-level with his chest, glaring up with those big eyes, bright with a sexy rage that stirred his cock. The way her toned legs straddled the sides of the bike made him rock hard. He'd give anything to possess her.

"And ten years later, you're still harassing me," she said sweetly, the blue of her eyes stone cold as they landed on Luca's fingers, still gripping one handlebar. "For a man with so much to offer, you could really use help with the ladies."

"You're not invincible, you know," Luca murmured, perfectly aware she wanted to shove his hand off the bike but was reluctant to touch him. He could feel her temper rising; he loved it. "There are ways to restrain your kind."

Cat pursed her lips with exaggerated thoughtfulness. "I don't know. The last time didn't really work out for you," she said with false sympathy, full lips curved to a pleased grin.

"I treasure the scars," Luca answered, amusement creeping into his eyes as he placed his free hand on his chest.

Cat smirked and started the engine. "Well, I'd like to say it was nice running into you, but it never is."

"I guess the pleasure is all mine," Luca responded, still not releasing the handle.

"Yeah." Cat finally gave in, gripped his wrist and yanked it free. "Well, I'm going home to fuck Bill," she announced, enjoying the flash of annoyed jealousy in Luca's eyes as she kicked the bike into gear. "Biggest dick I've ever seen. It's hard work, but I'm not complaining. I love my wifely duties."

Luca quickly stepped back before she could knock him over. He shoved his hands down his pockets to hide his painful erection, staring after Cat until she disappeared around a corner.

"One day soon, Luca," he promised himself. "You'll bring that bitch to heel."

***

Cat wrenched the front door open and stamped into the house. "Bill!" she shouted, kicking her boots off.

Bill's head poked around the corner, a slice of toast in his mouth. "Hey."

"That shithead turned up, again!"

"Which one?" Bill said, grinning when Cat's eyes widened angrily. "I can't kill him, love. He's too close to Hector. Just go on pretending he doesn't exist."

"I can't, because he's somehow keeping tabs on me. He just shows up!"

Bill's smile faded. "I don't like that at all."

"It's driving me freaking nuts. And he has this superior attitude like he's going to win something," she scowled. "I'm really worked up."

"It'll pass, love," Bill said gently, taking another bite of toast. "Hector has Theresa, Luca will have his hands full. Jett's still MIA."

"You saved his ass, and he's an ungrateful mutt." Cat stalked down the hallway, turning indignantly when Bill didn't move. "Are you coming, or not?" she snarled. "We have to hurry."

Bill's grin resurfaced. Throwing the toast aside, he followed Cat into the bedroom and watched her furiously strip down. "I can't believe I was ever friends with Luca!" she raged, throwing her clothes across the room. "I want to rip his face off!"

"Hey, easy," Bill soothed, his fingers slid over her smooth shoulders and squeezed consolingly. He cupped her adorable heart-shaped face, his body warming with excitement being close to his naked wife. "You can take it out on me. I'll let you try."

The rage in Cat's eyes softened and she looked apprehensive. "There's no time for foreplay."

Bill heeded her warning and abruptly pushed her back to the padded wall, secured her hands in the cuffs, padded her from the wrists. He left her legs free.

"Bill!" Cat insisted, impatient.

"What?" he murmured, stroking a hand up her thigh, his thumb curling up her pussy and pressing into the tight, wet hole. "What's your hurry? What are you gonna do about it?"

Cat groaned and her arms went tense. "Hurry up!"

Bill slowly pulled his shirt off, watching Cat's eyes fix hungrily on his toned chest, a strange colour beginning to flicker around her irises. He dropped his pants and turned to her, smiling at her heated expression. She looked like she hated him; very hot and bothered, her temper escalating with her excitement.

"Don't make me wait," she threatened.

Bill's eyes moved to the finger pads, hearing them strain as Cat's rage mounted, her nails piercing the interior mesh as they began to extend.

"Bill!" Cat growled, the sound rattling through her chest.

"Mm-hm," Bill answered, nonchalant. He let his heavy cock bounce free of his underwear and watched Cat pull against the bindings. He knew Cat's body wanted to violently lash out, but just as much, wanted to be used.

Bill turned his back and walked away.

"Bill." Cat's silken voice was barely recognisable; half sultry, half growl.

Bill laughed callously. In the beginning he certainly hadn't taken to the fact he needed to routinely mistreat his lover when they had sex. It was always better when she was unsettled, he didn't have to work so hard to draw the beast in her to surface.

Their situation was very unusual, and they had to roll with it. Sometimes Bill wished he was like Jett. Then he could fuck Cat whenever he wanted, the process would be so natural, her temperament wouldn't reject him every time. Sometimes he felt bad about it, especially when Cat was so sweet and desperate, when she tried to convince him it was safe, anything to stop the pain.

But Bill understood the twisted nature of his wife; her suffering. She was dangerously angry in sex; she couldn't help that. It was a complete shift in personality, like loving two women. She despised him to start, a genuine hatred true to her genetics. Then she'd purr gratitude once it passed.

"Bill!" Cat snarled through her teeth.

Bill ignored her. The more worked up she was, the more intense her orgasm. This perfectly suited his sadistic streak. He picked up an elegant cat o' nine tails and went to her, using the butt of it to push her face up.

Though Cat was tall, Bill's large frame dwarfed her.

"You walk into the house raving about Luca," he mused, watching her eyes practically spark with outrage. "Do you secretly want him?"

"The fuck-!" Cat shrieked when the whip swept across her tits in a painful slap that took her breath away. She groaned at the searing heat that followed. She opened her mouth to shout at him, but a soft rubber ball pushed past her teeth to shut away her complaint.