The Royal Lycan

But it wasn't true. She needed family. The people who raised her weren't family; they were very clear about that. It seemed they had a natural aversion to bonding with her. She was left to her own devices once she was old enough. No hugs, no tender words. She felt lucky to get a handshake from one, and it was as though he regretted it after.

Even now, in her hour of peril there was no one to help her or miss her when she's gone. No one cared. That was what hurt when Jett marched her to the elevator. It was the instinctual first thought - 'well, this is it.' Not, 'someone will worry; someone will miss me; someone will come looking and find me'. The standard backup lines didn't apply to her, because she had no one.

And even with that gaping void of loneliness that hollowed her existence, the world was still taking from her. And. She. Still. Had. Nobody.

Jett angled his head, heart racing as he watched the change in her. An animal fury brightened the green of her eyes. Her lip curled, baring her teeth. Jett's sharp hearing picked up a gentle snarl that emitted from deep within Tessa's throat.

Then she growled louder, and it was fucking perfect; a feminine, guttural warning. Jett drew a sharp breath and almost came in his pants. Half his size and she was braced to fight. It was true. She was Lycan.

Jett held out his arms, full of giddy excitement and feeling strangely touched.

"Come to me."

It was an invitation; a call. A summons brimming with passion that offered comfort and acceptance. But Tessa didn't see it that way. To her, the gesture was vindictive mockery. She saw a hot jerk who'd abducted, reassured, abused and now taunted her with theatrical affection.

Tessa strode forward and smashed her fist into Jett's jaw with a strength that would have broken a normal man's face. Pain exploded up her arm, but it felt so good to lash out. Therapeutic release. Hell, she should have beat up on a guy a long time ago.

Jett didn't budge, his arms still open for her. If anything, he'd gently turned his face to lessen the impact on her fist. His eyes gleamed amusement; he hadn't bothered to dodge. It made Tessa angrier. Stupid, man-mountain.

She leapt onto him, and as his arms closed around her, she seized a fistful of his dark hair and dealt him a ringing slap that burned across her palm. Ouch. Worth it.

The bastard chuckled.

Tessa yanked harder on his hair and felt Jett's chest tighten against her with a purr of approval.

Enraged that he was clearly enjoying himself, Tessa slapped him again. Jett laughed; his light-hearted mirth created an inferno inside her. Her fingers went numb, but she didn't notice.

Uh oh.

Jett felt her nails extend against his hairline. Baby claws. Cute.

But sharp enough to take out his eye. He managed to dodge the first clawing, but the second grazed his cheek. Blood lightly trailed down his skin; it was nothing. At the same time, he didn't want her to shred his face.

Jett strode to the bed and threw Tessa down. Straddling her, he seized her throat before she could rise. Immediately her nails stabbed at his wrists but couldn't break the skin. Male Lycans had particularly durable skin on their arms for this exact purpose. Subduing angry females. Enforcing submission.

Leaning close, Jett gazed into Tessa's eyes and saw faint streaks of yellow across the green.

Take her, now.

Dazed, Jett's hand brushed over the front of his pants where his cock bulged for release.

You can't. Hector.

Jett shook his head, dispelling the conflicting thoughts. Tessa squirmed under him, impatient for something she didn't know or understand.

"Relax," he growled, tensing his body as her knees predictably pummelled into his back. He wanted to kiss her. Desperately.

Panting, Tessa's hands fell from his wrists as her temper wore off and sanity returned. She looked exhausted. Sad.

"What's happening?" she whispered, looking so frightened.

Jett weakly smiled. His grey eyes filled with pain, not realising what the discovery would do to him. It only made things worse. But he just had to know.

This was a job. An important one. He always delivered.

Bittered by a matter of reputation and honour, he vacated the bed and stalked from the room, aware her eyes never left his broad back until the door shut behind him. Walking away from her was the hardest thing he'd done. Ever.

She doesn't matter.

Jett picked up his beer and sat on the couch, ignoring the pain of his aching, unappeased erection.

There'll be others.

That was definitely a lie, so his instincts told him. He didn't want her. Correction -- he didn't want to want her.

Jett pointed the remote and the TV flashed on.

Don't worry, you'll only think about her for the rest of your life.

Approximately three hours until Bill could relieve him. Jett imagined Tessa on the bed, curled up with misery. The thought tore his heart strings. She was friendless.

He certainly wasn't her friend. He was so much more. It made no sense to him.

Just admit she's your mate and get it over with.

Jett took a deep breath. He wasn't afraid of Hector, but there'd be serious backlash for what he contemplated. But if he delivered Tessa, then stole her back... No one would suspect him. He had no motive they'd know about. They couldn't know she's Lycan.

Bill was right -- there was no way Hector would allow them in the same room, let alone travel in close quarters when there was every chance they could bond.

And the link was fucking strong. So strong that he felt it even with her inner-animal supressed for God knows how many years.

Jett swore and chugged the beer. He always thought he'd mate with a Spanish spitfire or a volatile Russian. A girl who would try to take him by the balls and bring him to his knees, and he would demonstrate exactly why he was in fucking charge. He didn't think it'd be a genteel, sweet little French girl. To mate with a royal Lycan, that was one Hell of a power match. But that's not why he wanted her.

Jett pondered Tessa. One of Tessa's royal parents had been Lycan. Bill was right about a scandal.

Jett flinched, remembering he'd killed her protective guardians, though more would come. If Tessa was destined to be his mate, then he'd have to tell her about the killings. He didn't look forward to that. Tessa didn't seem to know or understand what she was. She'd probably not take well to mating with him, either. Jett licked his lips. He could still taste her. He was still hard.

And just like that, Jett flipped. He couldn't precisely pinpoint the second his mind swerved from an uncomplicated exchange to a complete upheaval; an uncharacteristic renege that would come with consequences. But he didn't really have a choice.

He pulled out his phone and typed a text to Bill. 'False alarm. No L.'

The message delivered, but there was every chance Bill would show up anyway, given what Jett already told him.

Tessa scrambled back when the door opened. At least her nails were back to normal.

Jett awkwardly rubbed the back of this neck, wanting to climb onto the bed. To be close to her. "We have to go."

Though Tessa tried to appear unfeeling, her lip trembled. "You said 'in the morning'."

"I know what I said," Jett drawled, not as unmoved as he appeared.

Tessa looked exasperated. "What happened, before?"

"I'll tell you on the way." Probably not.

"You said that last time."

"And I answered your questions. Stop arguing and get out of bed."

"I don't trust you. You have a hard-on!" she accused.

Jett smiled, in spite of himself. "Why are you looking down there?"

"I wasn't!" Tessa blushed and angrily vacated the bed. "You know I could afford to buy you enough cocaine to fill a truck."

Jett chuckled. "Not my drug of choice."

"What is?"

You. "Whiskey." Jett hesitated. "Can I ask you a question?"

Tessa glared at him.

"Why were you working at a diner?"

Anger faded and the sadness in Tessa's eyes reached right into Jett's chest and clenched around his heart.

"Because it's simple and busy and...makes me feel normal." Invisible.

"I see." He didn't, really. He just didn't know what to say.

Jett stiffened and held a hand up for silence, head turned to the side as though a ghost whispered in his ear.

"Someone's downstairs," he murmured.

Tessa did a double take. "How could you possibly-?"

"Hush."

Tessa watched the door quietly snap closed behind him, slightly taken aback by his soft last word. It was clearly an emergency, yet he spoke so gently. Intimately.

Jett hit the switch, darkness flooded the apartment, and he stealthily made his way down the silent corridor. Empty, but he knew someone approached. Someone anticipating an attack.

"Down, boy." A phone light illuminated a bearded face and china-blue eyes.

"Bill!" Jett snapped angrily. "You're early!"

"Felt this was important."

"Without notice? I might have shot you!"

"Ditto. Well..."

Jett stumbled when something sharp penetrated his shoulder. "Mutt tranquilizer? Really?! "

"Sorry, Jett. You know this is the right thing to do."

"Bill, what the fuck do...?" Jett slowly sank to his knees.

Bill stood over him. His face was still illuminated; lips pursed with regret.

"It was Catherine's idea, really. If you're glittering, then you won't think straight. So, she said," he shrugged. "I'll get Theresa to Hector and give you the money. Meet me there, if you like. We'll have a beer."

NO!

Jett's vision blurred and he shook his head, unable to get the word out. Bill, the responsible bastard, was going to finish the job for him, because he couldn't. Bill was doing him a favour as a friend. Jett wanted to rip his friend's throat out.

Tessa would be delivered to Hector, like a Thanksgiving turkey. He was about to lose his girl, and he hadn't even claimed her. Jett trembled furiously against the dusty floor. But his limbs were dead, and he couldn't speak. Filled with rage, Jett closed his eyes.

This isn't over.