Sweet Submission Page 2

  She tried to blink the fear from her eyes. It was just a coincidence, nothing more. She would know for sure when he turned around.

  As if reading her mind the man suddenly looked over his shoulder, and she saw the light, almost white symbol on the back of his neck. She felt a sickening thud in the pit of her stomach. It was an outline, the faint picture of a howling wolf. Her mind screamed at her....

  He returned his focus on her, again putting something on her stomach that burned like all hell. She gasped in pain, forcibly lashing out at the burning object on her stomach. The little square medicinal pouch flew from her abdomen and landed with a thwack against the wall. She glared up at the man, no longer trusting him. For all she knew he was making her worse, not better.

  "Get your filthy hands off of me, eye-commander,” she demanded.

  He smirked—an eerie taunting grin aimed at her, and then casually looked over his shoulder, “Sasha, your injured visitor is awake."

  He stepped away and Kita's eyes quickly found the man that had been addressed. He was the Alpha male. There was no doubt about it. Her heart panged in her chest and her throat swelled. He was big, very big, nearly six and a half feet tall. And those shoulders! They were so unbelievably broad.

  He was wearing a simple white t-shirt and a loose pair of denim jeans that were held up by a leather belt. A sheathed knife was attached to a ring in the belt on his right side, hanging unobtrusively against the outside of his thigh. The t-shirt he might as well have been without. His bronze muscles stretched the fabric, taking up every ounce of space there was to be had inside the garment with their defined rigidity.

  His head, too, was shaved clean, but his eyes were a much more intense and fierce gold than any she had ever seen. His skin was the same tan, and he wore the same shiny metal tusk-like piercing beneath his lower lip.

  He was so absolutely male, and full of himself. He was the King here, the lord of his domain, and he knew it. He looked over at her, shifting as he approached her. The other males stepped away, respectfully minding their distance. As he neared she could see the more subtle features on his face. He had a small scar that began in the center of his left eyebrow, racing down over his eye and ending at the top of his cheekbone. Another scar was imbedded from his right temple down to his lip. He had an additional long scar on his collarbone, striping downward beneath his shirt where it joined several other past injuries in marring his exquisite form.

  Her stomach tensed, this man was not afraid of a fight. Of course not, she thought, she was in werewolf hell. She had walked right into a lair of eye-commanders, the meanest, most notorious breed of werewolf left alive. The only comfort she had was the fact that they were a rare breed, so there wouldn't be many of them ... but then again, one was enough, and there was clearly more than one here.

  Sasha stopped beside the bed, calmly taking in his subject. She was beautiful, heart stopping, really. She had smooth light, almost white blonde hair that fell in jagged layers over her shoulders and down her back, and soft, pale skin. Just looking at her he could almost feel the tips of his fingers sliding across her silky skin, exploring her smoothness.

  Her deep blue eyes shot upward to meet his. They were full of fire and defiance. Her thick pink lips pouted to display her opposition and her jaw rose slightly. He smiled and reached out to touch her wounded arm, not at all surprised when she slapped his hand away with her other.

  Kita glared at the big Alpha. She didn't care how sexy he was, he wasn't going to touch her.

  "Keep your hands off of me,” she hissed with all the venom in her voice that she could muster, “get the hell away from me."

  He smiled, unaffected by her hostility, “That's no way to talk to someone that just saved your life."

  "I didn't ask you to save it,” She reminded him, “I would have preferred it if you had killed me."

  "Why would a sweet little thing like you wish to die?"

  He moved to swipe away the stray strands of hair that had fallen before her eyes, and again she lashed out at him. Her right hand came crashing down at his, but he pulled away effortlessly just in time as her palm struck air. In one fluid movement he had grabbed her wrist and gently placed it to her side, pinning her down almost tenderly.

  "Let go of me.” She demanded.

  "Not until you answer my questions, my dear."

  She glared more fiercely than ever at him, “What do you want?” She snapped.

  "Why was that man hunting you?"

  She shrugged, “How the hell should I know.” It was a lie, a straight out and out lie. She knew damn well why he was after her.

  Sasha studied her for a moment. Her heart was racing, “Why did he shoot you with tranquilizer darts when he had silver bullets on him?"

  She raised her jaw, and a slow smile parted her lips, “maybe he was going to kill me, but when he saw you he thought I'd be better as live bait.” The smile left her lips and anger flashed in her eyes, “After all, most Alpha males will kill trespassers immediately. They don't nurse them back to health first."

  Sasha's jaw jerked for a moment, anger rushing through him. He steadied his temper, focusing on her words and the implication behind them. It made sense. The hunter might have thought that Sasha would be more impulsive, and rush out to kill her immediately. Sasha would then be exposed, easily killed. Something about the story didn't quite make sense, though. He just couldn't place his finger on it. He shelved it for the time being. He had more questions that needed answering.

  "Who are you?” He demanded.

  "Let me go!” She struggled unsuccessfully against his hold.

  Pain surged through her body as she wrestled against his one armed hold. Tears of agony nipped at the corners of her eyes, and she struggled to keep them from falling and revealing her pain. She stopped fighting just to keep them at bay. Her chest was rising through panting breaths, and she realized with wounded pride that physically she was no match for this man.

  "Are you finished?” Sasha asked with an amused grin.

  "Are you?” She snarled.

  His hand tightened around her arm, squeezing with gentle but significant force, “What is your name, sweetheart?"

  She took a deep breath and her eyes flew down to see her arm pinned against her side underneath his hold. There was no point in refusing to answer him, she wasn't going anywhere.

  Without removing her eyes she responded, “Kita."

  "Kita,” He seemed to taste her name on his tongue, savoring it as his grip on her arm let up just slightly, “my name is Sasha."

  Sasha, so now she had a name to go with that incredible body and fearsome appearance. Why did that name sound so familiar, though?

  She moved her eyes, frowning to see her figure. She was half naked, the effect of changing back into her human form after shifting out of her werewolf pelt. From her hips down she was covered by blankets, but her midsection was fully exposed. She could see the red puncture wound over her abdomen, just above her belly-button. Her eyes scanned upward, and to her surprise someone had the consideration to cover her chest with a loose bed sheet, maintaining what she had left of her modesty.

  "Kiser is our pack healer. He's the one that fixed you up,” Sasha noted when he saw her looking at herself, “he's a very thoughtful man. I can't say that I would have been so considerate..."

  Her eyes slowly found his, and she scowled. She knew what he was referring to. She could see his eyes as they flickered to her concealed chest.

  "That doesn't surprise me,” she replied, feigning indifference, “you're an Alpha, you're selfish and inconsiderate."

  His eyes dug into her, threatening to tear her soul out, and his hand tightened again around her arm. Ouch. Okay, now it was hurting.

  "Where are you from, sweetheart? How did you end up here, in my neck of the woods, so to speak?” Sasha asked as he eased his grip on her.

  She didn't respond. What was she supposed to do, tell him that she was on the run? Tell him that she was a wanted woman? T
hat wasn't happening. She was desperately scrambling for a way to gain control of this situation. She looked up at him again, regretting it immediately. He was so commanding, so dominant, she was almost afraid of him in this instant. It rattled her to the core, and she took a deep composing breath. No man had ever intimidated her before, and she wasn't about to let this one.

  "Why didn't you kill me?” She was evading his question by throwing one at him.

  "I didn't want to. Now tell me what you're doing out here in the middle of nowhere?” He knew what she was doing, and he wasn't going to allow it.

  She frowned, finally finding her voice after what seemed hours of silence, “I was just passing through."

  "Where were you headed?"

  "Nowhere in particular, I—I'm a bit of a loner.” More lies.

  Sasha raised his eyebrows. He still didn't really believe her, but what choice did he have? He looked at her, studying her facial features, listening to the rapid beating of her heart. He released his hold on her, completely unprepared for what she did next.

  Kita felt it the moment that he let go of her good arm, and she swung to the side, ignoring the shooting pain that stabbed into her gut and left arm. She grabbed the knife that was attached to his belt, ridding him of the weapon in the quickest of motions. She clutched it and directed it at him.

  "Don't you ever hold me down like that again, or I'll gut you before you even know we have a problem.” She warned him.

  Sasha cocked his head with a roguish smile, “Sweetheart, that's an awful big knife for such a little babe like yourself."

  "I mean it, eye-commander. Don't even think about trying your little power trips with me.” She shoved the knife at him, and he pulled back to escape it.

  Sasha rubbed the back of his neck, recalling the bite that she had given him in the forest. Now she was trying to wield his knife against him. He groaned inwardly. She was too saucy for her own good.

  "Sweetheart, you had better give me that back before you hurt yourself.” He reached with an extended palm, gesturing for her to return it.

  "You're the one whose going to get hurt if you don't back off.” She drew back, still keeping the knife directed on him.

  "Dominance doesn't suit you, pretty baby,” he coaxed.

  It wasn't just the words, but the syrupy way that he had said them that nearly made her melt. She had never in her life been called “pretty baby,” but coming from his lips it was the sexiest thing she had ever heard. She looked down at his hand again, reminding herself who he was. It sobered her, and she jabbed with the knife at his expectant palm.

  He grabbed the blade firmly in his fist, and Kita's breath escaped her lips in a surprised gasp. She looked down at the knife handle that was still in her hand, looking upward to find the sharp metal cutting edge lost in his palm. If she were to pull back his whole palm would be sliced open. It was a bold move that only an extremely confident man would make, a man who was certain that she wouldn't dare cut him. Her eyes flashed to meet his. He was staring coolly down at her, challenging her to move. She couldn't. Her eyes fluttered between the knife and his eyes, and uncertainty rolled in her belly.

  Sasha reached down with his other hand, seizing her wrist in a tender hold. He squeezed a pressure point in her wrist, and her palm opened, releasing the handle of the knife. He looked down at her and winked, feeling somewhat sorry to have defeated her already.

  Kita looked away, silently cursing her weakness. She should have reacted sooner. If only she had the use of her left arm. She was no match for this man one handed, and she knew it. She inhaled softly, feeling her tired body aching. She couldn't hope to contend with this man, not with her body beaten and broken. She closed her eyes, still feeling drugged and weak. The faint smell of timber and musk tickled her nose, and she looked up. Her gaze caught the headman's. He was so near to her, hovering on the edge of the bed. His eyes were concentrated, a mixture of concern and curiosity.

  Sasha leaned away from her, seeing the confusion flash ever so faintly in her eyes. He didn't know who she was, or where she came from, but she was obviously not used to losing battles, even with Alpha males. It obtained his interest, but he would have plenty of time later to get answers out of her. Right now she was tired. He could see it in her eyes.

  "You should get some rest.” He advised.

  She watched him with hard observance as he turned and walked away, pausing to speak briefly to Kiser before he left the room.

  CHAPTER 3

  Kita sighed slowly. A low comforting voice tickled her ears and soft fingers pried at the wound in her stomach. She recognized the voice as that of the healer's.

  Suddenly she felt vulnerable. She knew better than to let her guard down here. Her eyes bolted open and she threw them sideways to see Kiser beside her. He stepped backward defensively, throwing his palms in the air to signal that he meant no harm.

  "Keep your goddamn hands off of me.” She snapped.

  "Are you always so hostile, sweetheart?"

  Kita's head jerked to the left to see Sasha leaning against the wall. His thick arms were folded over his chest, and he was appraising her with those luscious gold eyes of his. Flecks of appreciation and disquiet darted within them, mixing dangerously as he pushed off from the wall.

  She raised her jaw, “Stay away from me, eye-commander...” She knew the reputation that these men had, she knew the danger that she could be in. She wanted them as far from her as possible.

  He ignored her demand and kept coming towards her, looming like a deadly shadow beside the bed before he finally spoke, “We are helping you, not hurting you, pretty baby. Now stop looking at me like I'm the enemy.” She blinked, suddenly realizing that she had been staring at him, and he smiled, “If I were the enemy, believe me, you would know it."

  She tried to sit up, struggling against the pain that was throbbing within her. Her left arm still felt useless and it pained her to put even the slightest pressure on it. She grimaced, trying not to move it as she wiggled in the bed. Kiser took a step forward, looking like he was about to help her, but she flashed him a warning glare that made him stop in mid stride. He stepped back and waited patiently as she righted herself. She leaned against the headboard, and even that small struggle exhausted her.

  The bed sheet that was carefully placed over breasts began to fall down and she desperately clutched it to her one handed, half covered now, half exposed. Her gaze shot back to Sasha. He was smiling, a charming, pleased grin that was echoed in his eyes.

  She snarled at him, her vulnerability making her even more self-protective, “Go ahead and look all you want, Sasha, but if you so much as think about touching me, I'll cut your dick off."

  He raised his eyebrows, “Sweetheart, I won't argue that the view was nice, and I'd be lying if I told you that I wasn't thinking about touching you, but the rest of it..."

  He leaned down to whisper into her ear, his voice thick and sultry, deep with masculinity, and it made her tremble inside, “...I don't believe that you are in a position to be making threats, especially about things that are too big for you to handle, let alone cut off."

  Her eyes rounded and she laughed, a fake, exaggerated laugh, “Don't flatter yourself, Sasha. If you were truly as well endowed as you think you are you wouldn't need such a big knife to compensate for it."

  He shook his head, acting as if he was hurt by the comment, “Oh, come on now sweetheart, that's hitting below the belt and that hurts my feelings."

  She looked away from him as the smell of medicine wafted into the room. Kiser was just walking in, holding a cup of steaming liquid in his hands. She frowned, she hadn't even heard him leave, and she forgot that he was even in the room with them after she last looked at Sasha.

  He reached her and held the cup out to her, urging her to drink.

  Kita scowled, “What is it?"

  "It's an antibiotic. It'll make you heal faster.” He said.

  She glanced upward into his eyes, she didn't trust him. “I don't
want it. How do I know you didn't drug it?"

  He nodded thoughtfully, “Actually, the whole thing is a drug ... so I guess I did drug it."

  "I'm not drinking it.” She announced stubbornly.

  "Give it to me, Kiser.” Sasha reached over her, shadowing her body with his own as he grabbed the cup. He took a sip from it and looked down at her, “would I have drank that if it weren't safe, sweetheart?"

  She eyed him charily, “I'm still not drinking it."

  Her gaze dropped down to his waist as he was leaning over her. She could grab his knife if she were quick. She released the bed sheet and lashed out to grab the handle of the blade, gasping with surprise when Sasha swung down, his hand arresting hers just inches from his waist. The tips of her fingers grazed the cold steel hilt of the knife. He casually handed the cup back to Kiser with his other hand, turning his focus entirely on her.

  He pinned her hand to her side, and without looking away from her he addressed Kiser, “If she won't drink it voluntarily shoot her with it.” His eyes searched hers. His smile was gone and he almost looked apologetic. “You should have drunk it. The shot will knock you out and make you groggy. You'll feel helpless."

  She gasped, struggling against his solid hold. He was so firm, but gentle, and for some unknown reason she found it incredibly arousing. Heat sank deep into her lower regions, and she squirmed uneasily.

  He leaned down, letting her swim in his intense eyes, “Don't be scared, pretty baby, we won't hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you."

  His stare ... suddenly amidst the gold of his eyes she saw golden leaves, falling down in a forest. She was alone, shivering and weak in the shape of a werewolf. She collapsed on the forest floor. It was like seeing herself die, and her heart skipped frantically. She watched the image of herself as golden autumn leaves danced around her fallen form, alone in the woods. A black wolf approached her prone body, and he sat down beside her, patiently watching, guarding her. He was a silent protector as she slept.