[Siren Everlasting Classic ManLove: Alternative Contemporary Paranormal Romance, MM, shape-shifter, vampires, werewolves, HEA]
Jason Saroski has had a pretty normal life in his pack, but a group of vampire assassins change everything.
The vampires are not going to take kindly to their new drink mouthing off to them. Before they can do any damage, one of their deadliest assassins walks in, and he smells something real nice on Jason.
Jason catches that smell, too, and he likes it. A lot.
Damian has always known killing. He thought the last of his soul died long ago, but no. Jason breathes life into him, and Damian needs the man. He doesn't understand why. He knows werewolves can mate with each other, but a vampire and a werewolf? Is such a thing possible?
When his master threatens Jason, Damian knows they can't stay. Damian will betray everything he's ever known for the one thing he cares about, and possibly get a second chance at this new life in the process.
Marcy Jacks is a Siren-exclusive author.
Damian should not have punched Vance in the throat.
Unprofessional, and regardless of how much he disliked the other man, that didn't mean it was something that needed to be done.
It definitely felt nice, however. Damian felt the soft skin and bone against his knuckles and watched Vance grasp at his throat before dropping to his knees.
He gasped and coughed, making rough choking noises that pleased Damian to listen to as he knelt down and grabbed the man by his hair, pulling his head back.
He made sure to keep half an eye on Vance's hands, making sure he wasn't getting ready to pull a blade out from somewhere.
The little shithead.
"Now you listen to me, and you listen good. I am not your friend. I am not your mentor, and no one here likes you. You are an unimportant sack of shit that is causing a stink in Adolphus' manor, and I can promise you this—if he tells me to gut you for the move you made today, I will not hesitate. Do you understand?"
Vance choked some more, but he managed to get out a few small, scratchy words.
Damian nodded, shoving the other man away from him. Vance's blond curls were greasy. They disgusted him, and Damian wiped his hand on his coat.
"You should run away instead of putting yourself in front of Adolphus. It's your best bet."
He turned and walked away from the man, no longer interested in wasting his time on that ignorant little prick.
Had the man been born a common vampire, he would have had his head shoved in a toilet enough by now that he would know his place.
But because he was related to the nobles, he considered himself one of them, and he managed to fool enough to the lower staff into believing it as well.
He didn't have much power, but what little was there was the sort of power he used to his advantage.
Damian desperately hoped he would be the one to put Vance in his place.
He headed back to the manor. He intended to take the entrance for prisoners.
Most of the assassins came and went through the servants' entrance. Vance flattered himself that he was worthy to come and go from the front door. So far, he hadn't been stopped, but that would come to an end.
Damian preferred the darker, smellier entrance where prisoners were taken. The light from the sun, and even from the moon, was immediately smothered out the second he crossed the threshold. Aside from that comfort, Damian wanted to come and go with the prisoners.
If he was going to escort them to their fates, he might as well do the decent thing and not abandon them for the last of the journey.
The only smell he should have picked up on was the damp scent of basement air, mildew, and lost hope.
Instead, the moment he was inside, a new sort of smell hit him.
Damian had a sharp nose. It was not exactly what vampires were known for, but he had it, and he appreciated the power that came with it. To smell the musk of the people who were attempting to sneak up on him and gut him was a useful tool to have at his disposal.
But this did not smell like an attack was coming.
This smell overshadowed the old blood, the damp air and stone, and even filthy bodies being brought into what would become a more cramped space, now that Vance had decided to be a fucking superhero.
No, this smelled…sweet.
But not really.
It smelled like something that would attract him, for sure. Perhaps that meant cooking. When Damian had been a young vampire, he had enjoyed the smell of his mother's cookies in the oven. She had been old-fashioned, had insisted on making them herself. The smell always brought Damian to the kitchen, watching them melt in the oven and take their shape.
This smell did the same. It pulled Damian to it. It compelled him to come closer and find whatever that beautiful smell happened to be, and take it for himself.
The smell of his mother's cookies never did make his nipples hard, his skin feel this tight, or his cock twitch.
No, this smell brought on a craving that was not entirely like food, and all good judgment he might have had was tossed to the side.
Find it. Take it. Yours. It belongs to you. You and no one else.
Damian tried to swallow, but his throat became unbearably dry. He couldn't help himself as he found himself shoving past other prisoners who were being processed, and even other members of the staff who could not get out of his way fast enough.
He found the smell. Damian realized where it was coming from when his brain turned back on and he heard all that yelling and screaming.
When he made it to one of the cells, his horror was complete.
One of the prisoners was fighting with two guards. His face was bloodied. He had been punched, maybe even cut.
His glowing, golden eyes were wild, but he had not been broken.
One of Vance's prisoners? He did not look, or smell, like any of the ones Damian had taken in, and he was doing everything in his power to keep from being thrown into that cell.
Damian couldn't say he blamed the man. The shackles on his wrists were not quite right. Namely because the shackles were only hanging from one wrist, and now that Damian paid attention, he could see one of the jailers was bleeding from the face as well.
The wolf had clearly done it.
That should not have made Damian feel this sense of pride, but it was there, and his stupid dick continued to fill and swell as he watched the shifter fight back.
"Get the fuck in there!" One of the jailers lifted his hand and snapped it back down, the whip cracking and breaking the air in the damp, stone room for just a second.
Luckily, the wolf managed to dodge out of the way before he could be struck, and he barely jumped back to his feet before he could be grabbed.
Damian woke up. He had to pay attention. He had to stop this.
This wolf belonged to him, and with those claws and teeth out, these two might simply decide enough was enough and put him down before he could change into his wolf shape.
Damian pushed Jason down on the bed, climbing on top of him, his body pushing Jason's down, and it seemed the guy was definitely a top. A little bit of a boring one, at that.
Not that Jason was into much other than straight up, vanilla sex, but this was the second time they were in this position, their cocks pressing against each other, as though they were saying hello through their clothes.
Clothes that, for the second time, Jason was fighting to get out of.
His mate was going to get him out of here. His mate was going to help to free him.
Jason wanted to help his friends, what was left of them, but he could try to convince Damian to take the others, and if he couldn't, then at least this way, Jason could get help for them.
He wouldn't abandon them. He was just going to find other people who could help in the fight.
He had at least one person here, and he really was sorry that he'd thrown a knife at the guy.
Jason pulled back from the kiss. "I really did think someone else was coming in the door."
Damian looked at him with those calculating eyes, and he nodded. "I believe you."
The sweetest words Jason could have ever heard. The next best thing would be to get the man to admit they were mates, but Jason was going for baby steps here.
This was still a vampire he was dealing with. Jason might need the man more than he needed water to drink, but that didn't mean Damian knew what this feeling was, or why he was so eager to get Jason naked for him.
Jason would explain it later. When they were safely out of this pit.
Until then, it was a damned relief to get his pants off, to have Damian's pale hand stroking his cock.
"Mmm." Jason let his head fall back, his cock practically jumped right into Damian's hand.
Perfect. This was perfect, and he wanted nothing more than to keep feeling this for hours.
No, not hours. Jason had to work on freeing his friends. This was just to relieve the pressure brought on from the mating.
The real fun would come later.
"There is a pack," Damian said, moving his hand, stroking and twisting his fist. "The pack where the master's son lives."
"Wait, what?" Jason's brain was melting and he almost didn't pick that up. "A vampire lives with werewolves?"
"Yes, and you must not speak so loudly," Damian chided gently. There was nothing teasing in his voice, so Jason thought it was important to do as he said.
"Adolphus' son mated with a werewolf. That wolf led an attack on one of Adolphus' homes, killed many of his guests and colleagues, and he is...less than pleased. I think he would want to kill his son if ever he got the chance."
Jason grit his teeth. "You know, uh, this isn't the best pillow talk."
It wasn't, but his stupid dick refused to be respectful as Jason found himself thrusting into the man's hand. He reached for Damian, wanting to touch him, his shoulders, his black hair, anywhere that could be touched because, God, this was so good.
"I know, but you need to hear it. The alpha of this pack, he will take you in. I'm sure of it."
Jason shook his head, his mind getting more and more cloudy from the pleasure. His testicles felt heavy and tight, his skin way too warm, and there was no way he was going to be able to keep his wits about him for long.
Not when Damian leaned in, his lips, tongue, and even his teeth gently playing with and teasing one of Jason's hard nipples.
"Why do you shake your head?" Damian asked.
Jason swallowed hard. "B-Because...packs don't...oh God, they don't work like that. They don't just...take everyone. They can't."
Damian pulled his mouth back, which was a real shame because Jason was enjoying what he was doing. "I will make them take you."
Jason had no idea what he would do to make that happen.
If the pack didn't have the money or resources, even the space, they wouldn't take someone.
Hell, a particular smell of someone was enough to deny entry. If the alpha found someone's scent so much as annoying, they did not get into the pack. Not even to trade goods.
It was as simple as that.
"I will take you anyway," Damian said. "Your chances are better with them."
Jason didn't know the people of this pack, so he wasn't entirely sure how to measure his chances at all, but even if the pack was full of lunatics, he supposed Damian was right.
It was better to take his chances.
And he was so done thinking about what he was going to do next, what steps he was going to take, and how he would get out of here because one of Damian's fingers traveled down lower.
At first, Jason thought Damian meant to play around with his testicles, but he pushed past them and teased Jason's hole, making him gasp for breath as his entire body shuddered and tensed.
"Is this what you want?"
His brain was officially fried. The only thing he could focus on was the heat, the sizzle of his skin, and the way his blood flowed hot and fast through his veins.
Every touch was pleasure. It didn't matter where Damian touched him, either. The man's hand on his shoulder brought a shiver through Jason's body, and he loved every second of it.
His mate. This was his mate touching him like this. His mate giving him this pleasure and his mate who made him feel more alive than he'd ever felt in his entire life.