Darcingtowne Wolves: The Flower Moon Games (Book 2)

Chapter Three: Sweet, Sour and a Little Bit Earthy

Carrie was having the time of her life.

She was surrounded by a trio of handsome, wealthy men who were each trying to outdo the other with the hopes of finding a secluded place to ravish her. Well, that’s what she thought their plan was anyway. It was just too bad that none of these men were her mate. 

She sighed inwardly. She’d let her inner ho reign all night, dancing and grinding on a series of male werewolves - and even a vampire - before excusing herself for a breather. The male wolves followed her, like bulls drawn to a red flat. That was one downside of being a redhead; not only did people make a lot of assumptions about her fiery s****l nature, which she admittedly enjoyed feeding into, but it also made her easy to spot in a crowd.

Carrie had intended on waiting for her mate, and for the most part she had. Although she flirted a lot, she really didn’t have much experience. There were a few stolen kisses here and there, and she enjoyed a little bump n’ grind, but she’d only once had her hot little hands on a bare and throbbing piece of man meat. She didn’t count her toys, but hey - a girl had to get relief somehow.

The year before she got fed up with taking care of her needs herself and decided to experiment a little. Unfortunately, her experiment went sideways fast. The male she decided to fool around with was cute enough, and eager, but almost as inexperienced as she was. He asked her to suck him off, and nearly choked her with his d**k before passing out cold as soon as he shot off. She ended up having to finish herself off when she got home.

So, while she was pleasantly tipsy and had very much enjoyed dancing and flirting with the males, Carrie was not keen to start a new experiment with any one of these men, or even all three of them at once.  Though, now that she thought about it, that would be super hot. Carrie giggled to herself, and shook her head. Nah, ranked males like these would never go for sharing. Male wolves were, on the whole, a territorial bunch. Even twin wolves probably hated having to share a mate, although that was often the case.

The men chuckled, and she realized she must have missed a joke that one of them made. Or maybe they were just laughing because she was, it was hard to tell. They were all pretty drunk, so pretty much anything could set them to laughing, whether or not it was actually funny.

Just as the laughter was turning the corner to awkward, Tiffany miraculously reappeared to save Carrie from herself. “Carrie, you have got to come with me. I have some friends I would love for you to meet.”

The brunette she-wolf leaned in the stage-whisper, despite the fact that at this distance and with their enhanced hearing the males would definitely hear, she added, “I know you’re still looking for your mate, so we should introduce you to as many people as we can tonight.”

Carrie nodded eagerly at this. There were so many people at this party that even with Tiffany marching her around like a thoroughbred show dog, she probably wouldn’t meet half the men there. Still, there was a chance. All night, Carrie had been having these odd, tingly little feelings like someone was watching her, but since there had been a number of men watching her she’d dismissed them. Maybe he really was here. Maybe Tiffany was about to introduce her to him!

She parted from the trio of frowning, irritated looking wolves and let Tiffany lead her off down a side hall way and into a sitting room. It was dark, aside from a low burning fire. At first, she didn’t see anyone else in the room, but when she turned around she bumped into a wall of a man. He grinned down at her, dare she say it, wolfishly.

Carrie gasped softly as the man grabbed hold of her, shoving a cloth over her nose and mouth. The smell coming from the cloth was horrifically intense; a peppermint bomb so strong that she barely took half a breath before her eyes rolled back into her head. She didn’t even have the time to scream.

Desmond watched in horror as his mate slumped forward, her body completely limp. 

Yes, he’d been feeling a tug towards her all night, watching her from a safe distance while she danced and flirted, rubbing herself all over a number of different males. He’d grown increasingly obsessed in just the few hours he’d been observing her, but now that he was close, in the same small room, he knew for sure. Even with his addled sinuses, he could smell her. Her scent was like lemon candy and basil; sweet and sour, and a little bit earthy - in other words, absolutely perfect. She was his. And he was kidnapping her. 

This was so f****d up, but he couldn’t back out - and definitely couldn’t let on that she was his mate. If they knew, if he tried to escape with her right now, he’d be a dead man. Desmond didn’t have the resources to stay hidden on his own, and if he burned the mission without explaining first, he wasn’t confident that the agency would back him. Even if his priority was his mate, the agency’s priority was always the greater good.

In the span of a few seconds, Desmond played the scenario out to its eventual end, and knew that once they were caught, he’d be summarily executed and Carrie would probably get stuck playing the WIC Company’s sick game anyway. He needed to do this smart; do his job, then get in contact with his handlers and explain to them the situation. Thankfully, he was in a position to protect her until an extraction could be staged.

Des rushed forward to take her from Edwin’s brutish arms, barely containing his rage - at himself, at Tiffany, and at Edwin. At the WIC Company as a whole. Even the Moon Goddess wasn’t spared his wrath; was this torture her idea of a good time? His nostrils flared as he fought to maintain his cool. Edwin had said something, but he’d barely heard it over the sound of his rushing pulse. 

As if unsure why neither Tiffany nor Desmond had reacted to his shitty joke, he repeated it, “That was almost as easy as she is, eh?”

“Edwin, dancing - even slutty dancing - doesn’t make a girl easy.” Tiffany rolled her eyes. “Trust me, this one might talk a good game, even tease a d**k with her clothes on, but she’s a total prude. The boys in Twilight Promenade had an ongoing betting pool to see which one of them could finally nail her, but I don’t think anything ever came of it. She’s a true believer; waiting for her mate. Poor guy’s gunna be disappointed, I bet. She wouldn’t know what to do with a d**k if she had one waving in her face.”

“Will you both shut up.” Desmond growled. It nearly came out as a snarl, but his words came out too clipped for that - like he was chewing off chunks of rebar as he spoke. “We can’t stand around here gossiping, we need to move. The longer we dally, the more likely we are to be seen with her.”

He hoisted Carrie into his arms, and resisted the urge to bury his nose in her neck and breathe deeply of her scent. “Tiffany, can you run point while Edwin pulls the car around to that side entrance? Check things out, clear the way if needed?”

“Sure thing, Des.” Tiffany said, giving him a little wink.

She’d been hinting at him that she’d like to partner up for the haze, but the thought made his skin crawl. Even if he hadn’t just found his true mate, he wouldn’t have been interested. He was just too polite to tell her that to her face.

Edwin grumbled to Tiffany as they both headed to the door, “Who shat in his doggie bowl?”

Once they were alone, Desmond gave in to his wolf side and nuzzled at Carrie’s neck. He knew this was wrong; she was unconscious, and couldn’t protest even if she wanted to, but he couldn’t help himself.

“I’m so sorry, so so sorry...” he breathed, the sound muffled against the tender flesh on the side of her neck. He could feel her pulse thrumming gently just under the surface. “Please forgive me.”

When Carrie woke, she knew straight away that something was very wrong. Her head was pounding, but not from a hangover. Her vision swam as she tried to open her eyes. Her first attempt failed, but the third time she managed to lift them just enough to peek out from between her thick, dark auburn lashes. The light was blinding, and she flinched and scrunched her eyes shut again, unable to suppress a groan.

There were people in the room with her. She wasn’t sure how many, but even with weak - by werewolf standards - half-wolf senses, she knew that there were maybe a dozen or so others nearby. It was then that she realized that her nose was shot, because although she could sense the presence of others it wasn’t their smell she was tracking; it was the sound of their overlapping heartbeats. Her own heart began racing as she realized that she had no idea where she was, and the last thing she remembered was following her friend Tiffany into a dark room before everything went black.

“Hello?” came a small, terrified female voice from off to her right. “D-does anyone know where we are?”

Carrie forced her eyes open. She grit her teeth against the immediate pain this caused, and her eyes watered, clouding her vision as she looked around. The room was full of she-wolves. Some of them were still out, but most of them were in the process of waking. A few were already sitting up, including the girl a few feet to her right, who was staring wide-eyed around the brightly lit and unnervingly hospital-like all white space they were currently sprawled throughout.

“I want to go home.” the girl whimpered, tears starting to stream down her face.

“Me too, sister,” Carrie croaked as she sat up, because wherever they were it wasn’t anywhere good.