A Brazen Feast

‘November 11th, 2017’

‘Lumen’

Eve

“Let go!” Reyna screamed.

I looked down at the girls, saw Reyna’s black nails wrapped tightly around the dagger’s handle.

“You let go!” Anya cried, her hands in between Reyna’s.

“I had it first.”

“It’s my turn!”

“GIRLS!” I yelled, unable to watch any more. “It’s not a toy.” I stepped down from the deck, walking over to where the sisters were still holding tightly to my weapon.

“Tell her to let go!” Reyna ordered me.

“I’m ~not~ letting go,” Anya yelled.

“BOTH OF YOU. Drop it.” I said, my voice firm. “You’re here so you can learn to defend yourselves, not so you can kill each other.”

Reyna snorted. “I’d like to see her try.”

“I’d be happy to show you,” Anya responded, looking every bit the Barbie with an attitude.

Reyna, on the other hand, was a beautiful punk. Her dark wavy hair was pulled behind her head in a tight ponytail, and thick black eyeliner circled each eye.

“Give me the dagger,” I instructed them. But neither of them made any move to hand it over. “Do I need to repeat myself?” I asked, sighing.

Reyna rolled her eyes and, with a final tug, yanked the dagger away from Anya’s grasp.

She extended the dagger toward me, blade first.

I locked my eyes on it and telekinetically lifted it from her hands, floating it higher into the air. Then I sailed the weapon’s handle right into my hand.

Now I had the girls’ attention.

“You don’t need magic to be able to protect yourselves,” I said, spinning the dagger around.

“Sure helps you,” Anya muttered.

“Yeah. We’re surrounded by ~werewolves~,” Reyna added. “If they wanna hurt us, we’re toast.”

“Right now, yeah. Probably. But if you pay attention to me, if you practice this training, you’ll be able to fight them off.”

“Why do you even care about us?” Anya asked. Her eyes were wide and innocent, and in that moment, she looked every bit the child.

“I care that you survive the next two years. Until Reyna’s old enough to claim the Morgan fortune.”

“But why?” Reyna chimed in.

I sighed. “Your mother was good. Like I told your dad, I just want to make sure bad things don’t happen to good families.”

“Bullshit,” Reyna interrupted. “There’s something you’re not telling us.”

I looked at her, surprised. She must be smarter than I’d given her credit for. More observant.

“Why do you say that?” I asked her.

“You don’t care about anyone. You say you’re trying to do the right thing, but you never help out around the house. You’ve never told our dad you’re sorry that he lost his wife. You’re not a good person. There’s something in it for you.”

“Yeah, how do we know you’re not the one hunting us?” Anya added.

“Fine.” I nodded. “You’re right. I have a deeper connection to your bloodline than you think. It’s important to me that the bloodline is safe, and that means that you two are protected. But that’s all I’m saying for now.”

I watched Reyna as she processed the information. Then her eyes landed on me again. “Fine.”

“Get back in your stances. I’m gonna show you what to do if you meet a vampyre.”

***

~Knock knock knock knock~

I was making myself a sandwich in the kitchen when I heard the knocks.

I looked at Reyna, who was watching TV in the living room. “Can you get it?”

She sighed and walked over to the front door.

The second she opened it, it was like a volcano exploded deep inside me. Hot, fiery lava was flowing through my veins, fueling my desire, my need, for him.

“Hello?” I heard her say.

“You must be Reyna,” his deep voice responded.

I didn’t know whether to hide behind the kitchen table or to run right into his arms.

I’d just barely gotten away from him at the Pack House last week. I wasn’t confident my body would cooperate twice.

See, the thing was… when it came to him, I had no control. All my power, all my strength, it meant nothing when he was close.

But I couldn’t let him get close to me. Because when it came to him, I knew too much.

“Eve?” I heard him call my name, and my head whipped back toward the front door.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t noticed he and Reyna had moved away from the door, that they were standing by the living room now.

He must’ve seen the surprise on my face, because he smirked. “What, you’re not happy to see me, sweetheart?”

“I told you. I’m not your sweetheart,” I shot back.

“No need to be so standoffish, babe. I just came to invite the Morgans here to dinner at the Pack House tonight. Gabriel’s orders. I’m just the messenger.” He stepped closer to me. “And since you’re the newest addition to the Morgan family, you’ll be joining them.”

I tried to control my breathing, to fend off the arousal that was slowly covering every inch of me.

I could feel my panties dampening between my legs, and the bastard wasn’t even touching me.

“That’s kind of a last-minute invitation,” I responded.

“I’m confident you don’t have other plans.” He smirked. Then he turned back to Reyna, who I’d just remembered was in the room too. “Seven o’clock. Tell your dad, all right?”

“All right,” she replied, looking from him to me. Like she couldn’t understand what she’d just seen between us.

But then Raphael was walking out of the house, and the door was shut again. Like he’d never been there at all.

“What was...” Reyna tried to ask, but I was already snaking past her, up the staircase.

I’d forgotten about my sandwich, but it didn’t matter. Because now I had to prepare for a dinner with the one man that made me feel… powerless.

***

We were being led through the hallway of the Pack House, to what I assumed would be the best dining room on the property.

I was walking behind the Morgans, taking in everything around me. You know, in case I had to make a quick escape.

When the receptionist opened the big oak door, I heard Anya gasp.

The dining room was immaculate. It was large, fitting a massive round dining table in its center, and the whole room was decorated with flowers and tall antique-looking light fixtures.

I’ve been alive for centuries, and the concept of antiques always made me laugh.

It was such a mortal novelty. But these light fixtures really did add to the ambience.

They made me remember a different time, a simpler time.

A time before I knew ~him~.

“They’ll be joining you shortly,” the plump receptionist said.

“Thanks,” Martin responded, but he was interrupted by heavy footsteps behind us.

“Ah, welcome!” Gabriel exclaimed, Zavier in his tow. “Come on. Let’s sit, shall we?”

Gabriel walked toward the table, and I let the Morgans join him before I followed.

I snuck a peek into the hallway, but I couldn’t see anyone else. So I took my seat.

Instantly, a server appeared from a side room—probably a kitchen—and began filling glasses with wine.

“Red or white?” he asked me when he got to my seat.

“Red.” I couldn’t feel the effects of alcohol, not like others could. But the taste was sometimes enough to calm me down. A placebo effect probably.

But it didn’t matter. Because, tonight, I’d need all the calming I could get.

Just as I was bringing the glass to my lips, I felt him.

Then, I saw him.

Into the room he walked, with his Millennium Wolves behind him.

All seven of them looked like they’d stepped out of a magazine’s glossed page and into the Pack House. That was how good looking they were.

The Millennium Wolves were like the werewolf leaders of the world. They were in charge of maintaining order between packs, which meant they were constantly traveling.

Like me, they didn’t really have a place to call home.

Raphael walked effortlessly through the room, and shivers shot over every inch of my skin.

“Morgans. Thanks for joining us,” he said to the family. Then he turned to me. “Eve, always a pleasure.”

A ripple of desire coursed through me, but I managed a tight smile.

Until I saw him walk over and pull out the chair right beside mine.

“Is that really necessary?” I asked through clenched teeth.

He put a hand on my shoulder, leaning close to me. “It’s more than necessary.”

I could feel his breath on my cheek and immediately I crossed my legs. I needed to hold my desire in. He couldn’t know what I was feeling.

“So how do you know each other?” I heard Reyna ask from across the table, looking from Raphael to me.

Everyone’s eyes fell on us. I hated this. I hated being the center of attention, especially when it was about my personal life.

“We’ve known each other for a long time,” Raphael answered, his voice tinged with mischief. “Eve was—”

“My line of work has had us running into each other again and again,” I interrupted, cutting him off.

“And what is your line of work, exactly?” Gabriel asked. While I’d seen him a few times in the past, I wasn’t surprised he didn’t recognize me.

It was my job to be low-key, to hide out behind the scenes and make sure things went smoothly.

The missions were never about me getting recognized.

They were about getting the job done.

“I maintain order,” I said, recalling the line a coworker of mine had said to me the first time we met. It always stuck with me.

“That’s cryptic,” the Millennium Wolves’ Beta, Zachary, replied.

I narrowed my eyes at him, but before I could shoot him a response, Raphael spoke.

“All right, enough with the questioning. Let’s eat,” he ordered, motioning for the servers to start bringing plates. But that just frustrated me more.

I didn’t need him to stand up for me, and I sure as hell didn’t need him to protect me.

“I can handle myself,” I said to him, my fists clenching in my lap.

“I know you can. That’s what makes you so goddamn sexy,” he responded, his eyes gazing deep into mine.

~Fuck.~ I could feel my nipples hardening, pressing against the lace of my bra.

“Stop saying things like that. I mean it, Raphael. We’re at dinner.”

“It’s a shame, too. If I had it my way, the only thing I’d be eating was you.”

My mouth dropped open, and I could feel blood rushing to my cheeks. I was hot, so hot. I needed him to feel me, to touch me, to make me—

“Are you okay?” he asked with a smirk.

“~Fine~,” I snapped. I took a sip of the wine in front of me, willing it to distract me. “I’m here for business. I won’t be distracted by you, Raphael. I’m not interested in anything you say.”

“Oh, sweetheart. I don’t have plans to ~say~ all that much...”

“~I mean it.~ If you don’t leave me alone, you will regret it,” I promised.

But he just smiled bigger. “Seeing you this feisty turns me on even more.”

“Control yourself.”

“Impossible. Around you.”

I rolled my eyes at him, and he grabbed my hand under the table.

“The mating season is coming, Eve. You know it. I know it. And I will not go through another haze without having you.”

I inhaled sharply.

With all my focus on the Morgans, I’d forgotten about the mating season.

The season was the time that came twice, sometimes three times a year.

It was when every werewolf over the age of sixteen became so incredibly consumed by lust, so hazed, that they had no control over themselves. All they could do was fuck.

But the season wasn’t just limited to werewolves.

Every species felt the haze differently. Some had increased power during the weeks. Others felt more euphoric than a teenager on ecstasy.

But me? I was a combination of everything.

The season made me stronger, happier, and hornier than I’d ever been before.

Every year it got more intense. And every year it took more for me to control it.

Raphael was the only man that could arouse me, that could make me ~want~ to feed the lust that consumed me.

But I made a promise to myself long ago, a promise that I would never give in to him.

Never again.

So every mating season, I was overcome by a desire I could not feed. A crippling hunger that I couldn’t satiate.

And now, the season was coming again. Not only was it coming, but Raphael and I were in the same city.

That had never happened before.

“Are you listening to me?” Raphael asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“No,” I responded, turning away from him and bringing a piece of bread to my mouth.

“Eve,” he said urgently, resting his hand on my thigh. “I need you. I have to have you. The other women, I don’t want them. I can’t have them. It’s only you.”

“I don’t want you,” I said firmly, trying to ignore his hand. The way it felt on my thigh.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I. Don’t. Want. You.” I repeated, looking right into his eyes.

I was a good liar. I’d had centuries and centuries to perfect the skill.

Raphael growled then, a commanding sound deep from his throat. And then he grabbed me, lifting me out of my seat and pulling me out of the dining room.