"Continuing the mini-cycle about the recently joined members of Roarke's pack, most of whom were either skeptical of luna werewolves or members of one of the enemy packs, one of the alphas still on probationary membership", Rabbit, runs into his mate in this book. And, different from a few of the previous books, the mate is another outsider, creating somewhat of a problem for Roarke. The pack leader may have accepted Rabbit into the pack, at least partially, but his mate is the son of hunters, out to kill paranormal creatures wherever they can find them. Rabbit himself isn't too happy when he finds out, but he has no choice. Roarke does. And so does Benjie, the mate, even though he finds it strangely difficult to resist Rabbit's allure. What a mess! Rabbit isn’t looking for a mate, he has a hard enough time getting his own life under control. He is one of the six werewolves who deserted Lawrence's pack once Brandon took over, and he likes being in Roarke's pack much better; he never enjoyed torturing the omegas in his old pack. So he wouldn’t do anything to endanger his still somewhat tentative membership, but what can he do? Roarke seems to understand that, not that I expected anything less of him, based on his track record. But when Rabbit finds out his mate is the son of hunters, the paranormals' worst enemies, he isn't overjoyed until he finds out Benjie left his family for a reason. Rabbit is still going to have to fight for him to be accepted into the pack, but hopes it will be a little easier. Benjie is an artist. He loves to paint, sketch, and draw, and enjoys traveling to explore all the different places he never got to see when he was growing up. He doesn’t want to be a hunter, despite all the rest of his family are, and, luckily, his father understands and lets him go. The last person Benjie expected to fall for is a werewolf, and he has an understandably hard time accepting that he is so drawn to Rabbit. He may not be a hunter himself, but he grew up listening to stories about how horrible all paranormals are, so he is scared. Seeing how nice the guys in Roarke's pack are (well, mostly, Maddox never stops snarling at him), he is beginning to realize he'll have to readjust his world view. If you like shifter stories where enemies are confronted with the fact that the people they used to think of as "bad guys" are actually pretty nice, if you enjoy reading about mates who fear each other but have to work out a way to live together or be torn apart by the need to mate, and if you're looking for a story about finding a new family, or pack in this case, where you never thought to look, then you will probably like this novella. Oh, yes, and the bedroom action is pretty hot, as usual." -- Serena Yates, Rainbow Book Reviews
Benjie Stiles was not a hunter. That was his father, uncles and Eddy, and Benjie wanted nothing to do with that life. He was an artist, not a fighter or a killer, no matter how bad the paranormal world was.
The proof of that was in the fact that he wasn’t going to kill Rabbit after the man had bitten him while having sex.
Benjie wasn’t sure which part about this entire thing he was more angry about. The fact that Rabbit had basically lied to him through omission about being a werewolf so he could have sex with him—because there was no way in hell that Benjie would have slept with the man had he known the truth about him—or that the man had tried to bite him with those werewolf teeth of his.
Benjie shivered just thinking about it, and he looked over at his new prisoner, whom he’d tied to the nearest oak tree that looked strong enough to hold him.
His father might have grudgingly accepted the fact that his son wasn’t about to follow in his footsteps or anything, but the man had still been adamant that Benjie was always going to carry with him a silver plated hunting knife, and a pair of steel chains.
The links were small enough that if anyone asked, Benjie could always lie and say they were for his bike or something, even though he didn’t have a bike, but no one had ever seen the chains, so no one had ever asked him.
The fact of the matter was that they were also made from steel, and while having any silver in them would have been too expensive, sprinkling some wolf’s bane onto the links was a cheap alternative that would keep the man, werewolf, whatever he was, from getting away and ripping Benjie’s head off.
Fuck. He had no idea what he was going to do. His cell phone was in his hand, and his father’s number was on the screen. He’d called his phone at least five times since discovering that he’d had sex with a werewolf, but the old man hadn’t picked up.
That was not a good thing. If his father or his uncles weren’t answering their phones it was because they were turned off. The only reason why they would ever be turned off was because they were on a hunt and couldn’t have some random ringing giving away their location.
That left Benjie all alone and feeling pretty damn scared. How many other werewolves were around here? They were usually in packs, and Rabbit hadn’t been alone when he was in the diner. How many of those other people were werewolves? Would they all be looking for Rabbit when he didn’t return?
The only thing that kept Benjie from leaving Rabbit tied to the tree was the fact that he was a major chicken shit. If he left, would there be werewolves waiting right around the corner, wondering why he was alone and where their friend was? What if Rabbit died from the stab wound or silver poisoning? Granted, the wound itself wasn’t that much better now compared to an hour ago when Benjie had given it to him, but even he knew that a werewolf’s healing ability should have kicked in a while ago to at least get the bleeding to stop.
Benjie probably shouldn’t have bandaged the man up, but he didn’t want the guy to die. Which was also why he didn’t put a whole lot of the wolf’s bane on the chains or anything. Most of it was still in the little jar that was in his bag. He didn’t want to hinder the man’s healing capabilities too badly.
Maybe he was kidding himself about this entire thing.
Rabbit groaned, and Benjie’s heart started slamming in his throat as he watched the other man shift against the tree.
He was still naked. Benjie had moved the man up against the tree and had chained him up, but he wasn’t willing to spend anymore time being that close to him to dress him.
It was weird enough knowing they had fucked.
Rabbit opened his dark eyes. He had a very sleep swollen look on his face until he noticed Benjie, and then realized he couldn’t move.
Benjie waited with baited breath, and he watched the other man, clutching his bag of art supplies like it was a child’s teddy bear as Rabbit tested the chains, realized he couldn’t break them, and then looked back up at Benjie.
His eyes were wide, and there was a look on his face that was part panic, part shock, and there was definitely some anger in there. As an artist, Benjie would be the worst kind if he couldn’t read that in the man’s expression.
“Untie me,” he said, and the look on his face bellied the calm in his voice.
“No,” Benjie said, shaking his head. He was still clutching his phone in his hand as he hugged his bag. “My father and uncles are coming, so don’t even try to get away.”
“Are they hunters, too?”
“I’m not a hunter,” Benjie said.
“Are they hunters?” Rabbit asked, and his eyes flashed to gold.
Fuck, that was scary. For some reason, Benjie had to answer that question, he couldn’t stop himself. “Yeah.”
“Then that’s an even better reason to get away,” he said, and he really started to put some effort into struggling and trying to move the chains.
Some of the bark was actually coming off of the tree as he moved around, and Benjie couldn’t help but notice the spot of bright red blood that was blooming on the white bandage that was around his hips.
Shit, shit, shit.
“You have to stop. Stop it!” he snapped, stepping forward.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he said against the man’s shoulder. His body was shaking with the urge to keep himself from just moving, fucking the man beneath him with all the strength that he had.
He was pretty sure that Benjie wouldn’t be able to handle that. Not a human of his size.
“Do you like it?” Benjie asked.
“Then move already,” Benjie said, and Rabbit couldn’t help but grin against the man’s skin. He pressed a kiss to Benjie’s shoulder without knowing why, and then propped himself up onto his elbows.
Benjie’s hands were on Rabbit’s shoulder blades, and his fingernails dug into Rabbit’s skin as he pulled back and then surged forward.
He kept the movement of his hips slow, but hard, feeling his orgasm just around the corner, but wanting to keep it at bay for just a little while longer.
“Yeah,” Benjie moaned. “That’s what I want. Just like that,” he said.
Rabbit couldn’t help himself, he began thrusting faster, rutting against the man like he was a wild animal, and he couldn’t stop.
Benjie’s eyes were squeezed shut as he moaned, thrusting his ass back up against Rabbit’s cock.
That was when a little bit of clarity came onto Rabbit. He was losing control. If he lost control and his eyes turned, or a little bit of fur started growing on his face, then he was fucked and not in a good way. In fact, he could already feel the familiar itch of hairs trying to push through his pores.
He abruptly pulled out of Benjie’s entrance, and the other man moaned at the sudden loss before Rabbit grabbed him around the hips and forcefully turned him over, putting him on his hands and knees so that they couldn’t look at each other.
Benjie didn’t seem to mind in the least. “You sure know what you’re doing,” he said, and then moaned again when Rabbit pushed his cock back inside of his hole. “Holy fuck,” he said.
Rabbit kept his grip on Benjie’s hips tight, and he looked down to watch as his cock appeared and disappeared inside of the man’s asshole. Watching that and listening to the way his lover moaned Rabbit’s name was almost a good substitute for not getting to see his face while Rabbit fucked him.
Just as good was when Rabbit looked down and took note of the fact that Benjie was stroking his cock in time with each thrust of Rabbit’s hips.
The sight of that made his balls tighten up, and he let his teeth scrape over Benjie’s shoulder when he came hard inside of the man.
Benjie’s pucker tightened around his cock as the man came nearly at the same time, but Rabbit didn’t stop. His dick wasn’t softening as he leaned over the other man and completely claimed him, biting down harder on the man’s neck until Benjie cried out in alarm and pain.
“What are you doing?”
He was claiming his mate. It was as simple as that. Rabbit’s wolf, while not entirely out, was still mostly in the driver’s seat, and now that Rabbit was letting it out, there was no doubt in his mind that this man right here was his mate.
Still, his mate didn’t like being bitten, and that was enough to make Rabbit stop and pull his teeth back before they could break the delicate human skin.
But then it was Rabbit who felt a sharp pain, in his side, when Benjie reached for his bag to grab something, and then slammed it into Rabbit’s hip.
He cried out and reared back, listening to his mate’s cry of pain when Rabbit suddenly pulled out of him way too fast.
“Are you—” Rabbit stopped talking as he swayed a little on his knees, watching the other man scramble away from him and pick up his clothes. Benjie was getting dressed and not looking at Rabbit at all. Fear was radiating from him, in fact, Rabbit could smell it.
That wasn’t the only thing he could smell. He looked down at where Benjie had punched him, and he was surprised to see the blade of a knife sticking out of his side.
Benjie had stabbed him? Holy hell.
Rabbit grabbed on to the handle, hissing as his skin made contact with it, but he ignored the pain and pulled the blade from his side.
The huge hunting dagger was made to look even meaner by the fact that it had Rabbit’s blood on it, and when he realized that his palm was still burning, he dropped the thing where it landed almost harmlessly beside him.
The handle was infused with silver. That wasn’t any old hunting dagger. It was a dagger that had belonged to someone who hunted paranormal things. Namely werewolves. The fact that Rabbit was still dizzy as hell meant that the handle wasn’t the only part of the knife that had silver inside of it.
Rabbit looked up at Benjie, who was mostly dressed and very sloppily at that. Benjie was staring back at him like he expected Rabbit to transform at any second and tear his head off.
Rabbit laughed a drunken, disbelieving laugh. “You’re a hunter,” he said, and for some reason his brain thought that was just hilarious as the silver poisoning kicked in, and then he passed out.