The Royal Lycan

Jett dragged a chair from a thick oak table and straddled it, facing her. The chair looked spindly under the bulk of him. "Shoot."

"Who do you think I am?"

Jett smirked, but sympathy flickered in the depths of his eyes. "A Royal."

Tessa dared a disdainful titter. "I'm rich, not Royal." You idiot.

"Next question."

"Where are you taking me?"

"To a man known as 'Hector'."

"Why?" Tessa frowned. She already didn't like the sound of him. A man called 'Hector' in this day and age had to have issues.

Jett seemed reluctant to answer. "I was hired to deliver you. That's all."

Tessa's eyes narrowed. He was lying. Somehow, she knew. "I'll triple what he's paying."

"If I accepted, it'd be ten times as much for my head, babe." Babe? Really?

"I'll pay eleven times as much."

"You're wasting your breath."

"So, this 'Hector' is dangerous," Tessa surmised and watched annoyance cross Jett's face. He obviously didn't want her to think that.

"You have nothing to fear from him."

Tessa cocked her head. "Nothing to fear from a man who had me kidnapped, and would kill you for letting me go?"

Jett smacked his lips, concealing his irritation. This wasn't going well. Then again, it could never go well if he was to tell the truth.

"What will he do to me?" she persisted.

"Nothing bad." Just fuck a baby into you.

"I don't want to go to him."

Jett sighed. "I'm sorry." He actually meant it.

"I want to go home. Please." Tessa's calm voice tremored on the last word.

Jet knew she was terrified; desperate. Hiding it wonderfully, except he could smell it. Like he could smell her in the car...

Stop.

"I'll have sex with you," she offered, wincing as though the mental imagery was icky.

Jett quietly chuckled at her wrinkled-nose expression. Way to kill the romance. "I can't touch you. Orders are orders."

"So, you'll get into trouble if you touch me." Tessa's eyes brightened with fresh hope. Jett could almost hear her mind whirring with a scheme.

"Don't worry. I can control myself." Probably.

Jett shook his head and pointed to a doorway that led to a windowless bedroom. "I'll lock you in there for the night."

"But..."

"I'll be right outside."

"What if you fall asleep and there's a fire?"

"Then we're both dead. Any more questions?"

"I don't want to go in there."

"You want me to sleep in there with you?" Jett arched an eyebrow.

Tessa's eyes flashed jade. "Yes," she said challengingly, her voice filled with false bravado.

Of course, she didn't. They both knew that. But she also discerned he was afraid to get close to her. If he called her bluff, maybe she could seduce him. Though she didn't know how.

For a second, she pictured removing her clothes and touching him, feeling his hard chest press close, his hands moving up her back and to the front, cupping her breasts. Jett's deep voice interrupted her provocative imagery.

"Interesting you're concerned about fire. There's one happening on your face."

Mortified, Tessa raised her hands and felt the red heat of her cheeks. "I'm just tired."

Jett seemed suddenly angry, and he seized her hand and pulled her toward the room. He wasn't sure what was happening, but her open invite coupled with the demure blush set his blood boiling, and not with anger. His control was slipping, and it seemed he could never sense when lust would strike with this girl. When it struck, it knocked the breath from him. She was trouble.

Or Lycan.

"No!" he angrily denied, and Tessa glanced warily up at him. She dug her heels but nonetheless the dreaded room came closer.

"Please, I'm scared of small spaces," she begged.

Jett paused and glared down at her. "Used to more opulent quarters?"

Tessa did seem a little pale, her eyes wide and beseeching. She really was afraid, and he was being a bastard. Fuck, he had to keep her in there. She needed securing. No, he needed securing. Jett shut his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"No-!"

Jett threw her into the room and watched her trip and fall on the bed inside. It was clean, but the room was depressingly bare. She sprawled across the mattress, the dress flew up, and he saw where her legs ended. Nirvana.

God, that ass. He wanted to kiss it, sink his teeth into those soft, untouched curves. Squeeze her behind until his fingerprints marked her. Forever.

Jett's nostrils flared. He hit the lights then slammed the door, locking it from his side. He wasn't going to shut her in darkness. But he couldn't afford to stay a second longer.

For a few minutes he watched the handle jerk desperately, heard her tearful pleading from the other side. What could he do? Nothing.

Jett's jaw flexed. She cooperated so well it aggravated him. He could easily handle a wildcat who screamed foul threats and lashed out to hurt him any way possible. To try and kill him to escape.

He expected a spoiled, complaining brat. But Tessa's insults were unspoken. Every time she exhibited courtesy and manners when she had no cause, it stabbed at Jett's conscience. He accepted a job that seemed so simple from the outset, and was now turning into the most conflicting gig of his existence.

Hector hired him because he was tenacious. He was the best; he could be trusted not to touch her. God, he wanted to touch her. It was a strange, primal urge that surprised him with such a docile girl. She was hardly passionate or animalistic.

Giving up on the handle, Tessa wrapped her arms around herself and began to pace. The room was small. No windows. A tiny side table with bottled water and packeted snacks. A bi-polar man guarding her door. Tessa felt suddenly cold.

"Breathe, just breathe," she muttered. Her dinner quivered in her stomach, threatening an ugly return. She turned out the light and lay on the bed. She closed her eyes, breathing stale air. It was such a strange nightmare.

Tessa continued to draw consoling breaths, but her mind ran riot with anxiety. This Hector person wanted her. It couldn't be for anything good. Jett clearly believed she was some kind of Royalty, despite treating her like a hostage. He also had a cocaine problem going by the way he kept sniffing and looking agitated about it.

Maybe when they reached destination, she could convince Hector it was all a mistake. Maybe Hector would be more reasonable than the giant hunk in the next room; the one with bizarrely coloured eyes that sometimes glowed when he looked at her.

Nausea left and desire pooled in her lower belly. Her pussy tingled for attention. In the dark, Tessa smiled cynically. Well, if she wanted distraction from claustrophobia, there was always that.

Jett scowled at the wall ahead, wondering how he'd survive the night. She had been in there 20 minutes and it felt like two fucking hours. Something shifted in the air, and Jett smelled it again. Fresh.

"Are you kidding me?" he growled, flopping back on the couch to glare at the ceiling. He had to be imagining it. Before he could stop himself, he sniffed the air.

Fuck.

Unable to resist, he used the senses that made him an asset to invade Tessa's privacy. He listened keenly. Gentle panting. Mattress shifting. Jett groaned, his face in his hands. What kind of girl masturbates at such a time?

He couldn't go in there. He couldn't. If he presented a deflowered princess to Hector, there would be Hell to pay. His Hell.

"Jett..."

The soft word burned his ears, spiked his senses. Jett trembled with a restraint he'd never had to endure. She couldn't know he'd hear it, but he did. There was a fucking virgin in the next room, touching herself and moaning his name, of all people. There was only so much he could take.

Jett went for the fridge. Cracking a beer, he took a long swig. Tessa was Royal. She looked just like her mother. She also brought out the Lycan in him, and that was a problem.

Jett liked to fuck. But his eyes rarely wavered colour and his desires were controlled. Now, the idea of taking another woman made his cock shrivel. At first his lust was mildly disconcerting, but the more time he spent around Tessa, the more it grew. Now, he could smell her desire; her scent. It locked into his senses and made his skin prickle similarly to before he transformed.

Only a compatible Lycan, or his Lycan, could arouse that side of him. But it was impossible. With an angry sigh, Jett pulled out his phone.

"Hey," drawled a deep voice. "How's it going?"

"I got her."

"Calling to brag?"

Jett rolled his eyes. "I've got a problem, Bill."

"Shoot. I'm listening."

"Is it possible she's Lycan?"

"What? No. No fucking way Hector would hire you if she had a drop of that in her."

"What if he didn't know?"

Silence. Jett pictured Bill frowning.

"Then you're in a fix," Bill said eventually. "But it's common knowledge the Sinclair bloodline was never Lycan. Fuck, that would be some scandal."

"I know. It's just ..."

"She an angry gal? Eyes glitter?"

"No, that's the thing. Nothing about her is Lycan. But-"

"Does she find you arousing?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

Bill chuckled. "You caught her scent?"

"Yeah."

"You're having trouble avoiding her?"

"I'm her fucking babysitter!"

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, ok. I feel like a raging hormonal teenager."

"Where are you?"

"House five."

"I have some things to do first, but I can get there by morning. I'll take her off your hands and get her to Hector."

"Hector hired me, Bill. This is my responsibility."

Bill exhaled with sharp impatience. "You called me for a reason. This is a big deal. If you're reacting, she has to be Lycan. Not that I credit it, but I credit you."

"I'm telling you, she's a fucking flower."

"If you're glittering around her, there's a spitfire in there, guaranteed."

"What if..." Jett pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't want to say it.

"What if she's your mate?" Bill intuitively finished his sentence. "It's better you never find out. Hector would end you."

"That makes me feel a whole lot better."

"Hey, I'm your reality checker. She locked up?"

Jett's jaw clenched, remembering how he callously tossed Tessa into a small room she feared. Then he recalled her naked lower body...

"Jett."

He shook his head. "What?"

"You're growling. Stay away from her. I'll be there by morning."

Feeling sick, Jett pocketed his phone. Though human, Bill was well-versed in their ways since forming a rare union with his wife, Catherine. A Lycan female.

Jett sat on the couch, afraid to breathe; afraid he'd catch that tantalizing scent and change his mind. Life was cruel, he knew that better than anyone. He gave those lessons first hand. But this was too fucking cruel.

The night wore on, Jett relaxed on the couch. He had strange dreams; walking hand in hand with Tessa. In a burgundy suit, Hector watched them, his reptilian blue gaze on Tessa's elegant face; hungry for her innocence. An angry, jealous growl rumbled up Jett's throat. Hair spouted on his hands and feet.

Tessa stopped and reached to cup his face; pacifying him. They kissed, and his rage melted. Hot, molten desire burned through his veins. His skin prickled.

They sank to their knees, still kissing. He tore the front of her dress, touched her breasts, those soft curves swollen in his shaking hands, his cock swelling in response. Watching him, Tessa's green eyes were solemn, gold sparks glowing her acceptance of him. She lay back.

Immediately Jett sniffed down her body, pushed the hem of her skirt high up her body. He hungrily licked her, each stroke of his tongue gathering sweet nectar that only made him ravenous for more.

"Mine," he growled, his cock ready for her; the thick knot swelling at the base.

Tessa whimpered longingly.

"Say it!" Jett snarled; his teeth lightly sank into her thigh. He wanted to mark her. She had to admit she wanted it, too. Wanted him. He had to hear it.

A scream startled him from the daze, and Jett jerked onto his knees, staring down at Tessa, her face twisted with terror.

What the fuck!

Light from the lounge area dimly illuminated the small room. Jett's heart pounded, his hands and feet had furred, and he could still taste her on his tongue.

"Oh, fuck!" Jett scrambled back from the bed, quickly checking he had pants on.

You fucking tranced.

"Get away from me, pervert!" Tessa shrieked, dragging the blanket over her. For once, Jett was speechless. He had nothing to say that would explain his actions; convince her it was a mistake.

Even now, there was nothing Lycan about her. No fight. She was fucking petrified, for good reason.

In the shreds of her dress, she cowered under the sparse blanket as Jett glared. That dress. Did he have to dress her like an actual fucking princess? He wasn't her knight. No, he probably was. That's why it was all wrong.

"I'm sorry," he lamely apologised, feeling like a kid caught wanking off in a neighbour's stolen panties. Thank God she didn't know about trancing. How fucking embarrassing.

The door closed behind him, and Tessa ran to turn on the lights. There was no way she'd sleep, now.

At first, she thought she was having an erotic dream, but quickly realised cokehead was on top of her, snarling like an animal. When he bit her leg, it fucking hurt. But when his tongue was in her cunt...

That part made her insides turn to gooey compliance, even if it was obscenely wrong. No one had done anything like that to her. Cursing her virginity, Tessa wished she'd given it up before running into crazy eyes. She could have sworn they were alight in the dark, like little gold fireflies danced about his irises. Maybe he'd drugged her, somehow.

"Ouch," she muttered, checking her inner thigh. There was a red mark there, but he didn't break the skin. It felt like he had. She inspected the light teeth imprints. It would definitely bruise.

"Holy shit. Got some canines on you, cokehead," she said scathingly.

In the other room, Jett heard every word. Though he flinched, it was better she thought he was a drug addict than a rampant wolverine.

He'd fucking tranced, and it was humiliating. He'd never tranced before, not even in puberty. Her sex scent was that strong. And even when she was scared out of her mind in the car, he could smell her juicing for him. She had to be fucking Lycan. He had to know.

Lycan girls were fiery. Even a half-blood would have reacted with uncontrolled ferocity to being rudely set upon by a trancing male. And if he was kidnapping a female Lycan, he'd have brought a fucking net and tranquilizer gun.

No, he wouldn't. He'd have turned down the job. That was one of his few limits. Jett bit his lip, baffled. There was no fire in Tessa. It made no sense. Unless...

Unless it'd been stamped out of her at a young age. It'd been done before in controlled environments. It wasn't pretty. If anything, it was a pretty fucking abusive process, quashing a child's true nature. But those were for extenuating circumstances.

Jett remembered her guardians. He wouldn't put it past them, tough bastards. They were capable of it. They resolutely chose death rather than give her up. Fuck, it would have been rough for Tessa. Jett's eyes widened. Tessa hated small spaces. It would make sense. And no one got close to her.

But she wanted him, too. If he couldn't smell it, he'd never know. It started in the car, when her shock wore off. He felt her staring at his profile on the drive, her sweet, intangibly delicious pheromone sucking him in like a wolf-magnet.

Jett cast a furtive glance to the closed door. She was so placid, but until now he'd been forceful, but reassuring. Protective. For it to make sense, there would be something untapped inside her. There was only one way to find out.

But do you really want to know?

Jett shrugged. He didn't, but he had to. And Bill wasn't there to stop him.

The door opened and Jett shot Tessa an icy stare. She'd changed out of the dress into a beige tracksuit. The colour seemed plain against her blonde hair, but somehow, it suited her. Those green eyes.

She watched cautiously from the bed. "Is everything ok?"

Jett snorted. Of course, there was a huge problem, for both of them. And there she was, politely asking what the fuck was wrong, her small hands peacefully clasped in her lap, her fingers tensely intertwined with justified unease. She looked so chaste and innocent, so virginal. Jett unwillingly found himself wondering how Hector would treat her.

Would Hector be gentle? Would he stroke her hair, or viciously pull it? Would he make sure she's ready and take her slowly, or shove forward in one brutal thrust to make her scream and cry until he's ready to nut inside her?

Shaking, Jett he put his inner angst to purpose.

"Your name is Theresa Sinclair," he started, arrogantly crossing his arms. "Hector paid me to kidnap you. He is going to marry and impregnate you. Not necessarily in that order. A royal heir will haul him several rungs up the aristocratic ladder. Then, your millions will be his millions. He doesn't need your money, but more money is better than less."

Tessa looked away with exasperation and disgust. Jett was also disgusted, but he concealed it. Just saying the words made him blindly angry.

"Why are you telling me this now?" she asked lowly.

That's when Jett felt it. Something simmering inside her. It excited him; he wanted it out.

"Figured you should know what you're in for, Princess," Jett boomed in the most obnoxious voice he could muster. If the situation weren't so fucked up, he would find the performance comical.

"Please-"

"Shut up!" Jett sneered, and Tessa jerked as if he'd slapped her. "I'm not getting paid extra to fucking counsel you."

His eyes raked her with contempt, his heart twisted at the hurt on her face. He didn't know if he wanted to succeed. If she broke down crying and nothing happened, he'd feel worse than ever. And the existing problems would still be there. If she confirmed his fears, the existing problems would magnify. But he couldn't stop himself.

"When I take you to Hector, you'll do everything he says without hesitation, like the little bitch you are. Got it?"

Tessa's expression turned to stone, she stared at the blanket across her knees. Jett felt hopelessly aroused. Fuck, you're a beast.

"Answer me," he barked, uncrossing his arms as Tessa's clenched fists turned white. She didn't speak. Jett's heart quickened. He could see her fighting it; fighting the budding rage churning inside her. She was supressing her nature, the way she'd been taught, he just knew it.

"Do I have to make you answer, Princess?" he threatened.

Slightly shaking, Tessa otherwise calmly got out of the bed and stood perfectly still. Jett sensed the storm brewing inside her. A tornado of fire. It excited him; he had to stoke it.

"Fucking answer me."

"No." The word was sharp and venomous. Finally, she looked at him, her green eyes glowing through angry tears, not quite sparking, but the animal was in there, all trace of softness gone.

Jett was fully hard, feeling the seconds tick toward an insane epiphany.

Well, you wanted to know.

Tessa stared at the man who cruelly baited her to react. A seething, reckless rage flooded her chest, intensifying with every breath.

All she wanted was to be left alone. That's all she wanted, and it was too much to ask. At last, the chip on her shoulder blared alarmingly. Her whole life was aimlessly stoic. Unbothered. She didn't need anyone.

'Leave the world alone, and it'll leave you alone,' was drilled into her; never mind the world took her parents. 'Bad tempers breed bad futures' she was told, before being locked into a small space for snarling at a rude postman. 'You don't need anyone. Money is all you need.'