Beasts in Winter [Tangere Tales 1] (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting) Read online

  Normally the strategist among her friends, Angel could see only one option as she looked at the snow caking her boots and the castle beyond the clearing. The snow wasn’t terribly deep, and no way was she letting herself or the cat get eaten without at least trying to escape.

  “Woman, do as I say. Put down the cat and do not think to run.” Another growl, angrier and more ferocious than the first, vibrated from his massive chest as she tucked the cat to her side and backed up a step. His eyes glowed silver as he advanced. The cat mewed plaintively to her, which she took for fear, and she exercised the only option her mind would consider.

  Run! Now!

  * * * *

  Bestiale snarled as the woman did exactly as he’d ordered her not to do. Charmeur latched a hand to his bicep, his snarl adding to the noise but clearly directed at him, as he held Bestiale back from giving chase, just barely.

  With her wavy red hair floating in the wind, she practically invited his beast to chase her, to hunt her, catch her, pin her down, but not to savage her. He wanted to feast between her lush thighs and fuck her senseless. But he wanted much more than just carnal satisfaction. Too much of her skin was visible in those inadequate clothes, and her lips had been nearly blue as she’d stood frozen, staring at him. He wanted to wrap her in the fur of bears he’d hunted to keep her warm. She looked behind her as she fled from him, fear in her eyes. Across the growing distance he heard a whimper escape her.

  Charmeur’s voice cut through their telepathic link like a blade, the censure clear in his tone. I told you to stop growling, and Fleur warned you that you were scaring her.

  Another voice, this time female, rang clear in his mind even as the distance between them lengthened. You idiot! You’ve terrified her! She thinks you want to eat her!

  Charmeur snorted again, and Bestiale growled low and said, Yes, how I long to eat her.

  Eww! Keep thoughts like that to yourself, pervert! You better fix this! Charmeur, help him! Fleur’s voice sounded as if she was being jiggled with every running step the redhead took. Bestiale enjoyed the way the redhead’s curves bounced as she ran, her hair waving like a flag.

  He broke free from Charmeur’s restraining hand to give chase.

  Mine.

  Ours, was Charmeur’s telepathic reply as he gave in to the animal urge to chase his prey, too.

  He’d hoped the fae enchantress would relent in her curse. But rather than sending them beautiful redemption, she’d sent fresh torture, scantily clad in what looked like rags and sporting hair the irresistible color of flame.

  Mine.

  * * * *

  Charmeur kept pace with his brother, praying the energy expended chasing the lovely blue-eyed beauty would take the edge off Bestiale’s intimidating demeanor, not that Charmeur was in a much better state. Bestiale had ordered her not to run, knowing that it would only inflame the basest part of their animal natures, the urge to chase fleeing prey. He hated that fae-cursed part of himself but couldn’t deny it any more than Bestiale could.

  The beauty squeaked when she looked behind her and saw they were closing the distance and nearly lost her footing as she gained the stone steps leading to the main courtyard. Afraid she would fall, he ran harder in case he might need to catch her before she hurt herself.

  A feline hiss rang clear through his telepathic link with his sister. Oh, don’t mind me, brother mine. If she drops me and I crack my head open, it’s no loss.

  Sorry, little sister. In time you may understand.

  Understand what it’s like to be chased by two snarling imbeciles? Let’s hope not, she chortled, obviously amused by the whole situation as she clung with her paws around the redhead’s neck.

  Watch your claws, dear sister.

  Pshh! She’s got such a grip on me I’m not worried about being dropped so much as squished!

  The door to the castle stood wide open to receive them and he watched in appreciation as the gorgeous lady cleared the entry with a leap, slid to a quick stop in her odd boots, and slammed both heavy doors in their faces.

  That’s right, girl! Fleur’s voice chimed with a giggle through their telepathic connection. Make them work for it!

  Without missing a step, he and his brother leaped for the thick branches of the dormant climbing rose that twined its canes in an intricate web around the castle walls. Thanks to the calluses on his palms and the undersides of his fingers, his bestial hands didn’t slip, not even in the spots where the snow or ice had accumulated. They were rough, clawed, and animalistic, but they got the job done as he leaped from branch to branch, keeping pace with Bestiale.

  They could sense Fleur’s movement up the stairs and bounded with a leap to one of the second-floor balconies, startling a frightened scream from the beauty as she ran by. Fleur leaped from her arms, and the redhead followed her down the corridor to another flight of stairs, leading to the east tower.

  Perfect, Bestiale growled. There’s a bed up there.

  Charmeur lashed out and grasped a handful of Bestiale’s long, wolfish brown mane and yanked hard, sending him tumbling into a heap on the stone floor with Charmeur falling on top of him. Blows were exchanged until sense came into Bestiale’s eyes and he lifted his hands in surrender.

  I would not use force, brother. It’s hard to fight the need I feel for her.

  Charmeur straddled him and shook him by his mane. Try harder. If you hurt her, she will never forgive us. We’ll remain in this state for all time. Fleur will never forgive us. And I will never forgive you.

  Bestiale stayed still long enough to convince Charmeur he was calmer, and then they continued the chase that led to the bedchamber at the uppermost room of the east tower.

  She bolted the door as they gained the top of the stairs, and Charmeur flicked his hand, willing the bolt back and opening the door. Before them stood the beauty, her shocked gaze taking in the splendor of the room before fastening on them. She trembled, her face pale with fear and her full lips tinged blue from the cold.

  Bestiale waved a clawed hand upward at the fireplace, and a fire leaped to life in its grate, startling a shocked cry from her. As she backed away to the balcony, Fleur once again in her arms, Bestiale followed her.

  Tell her you thought of her comfort, brother. Reassure her, Charmeur whispered through their thought connection. He’d give anything to be able to soothe her himself.

  Bestiale breathed hard, probably taking in her wildflower scent just as Charmeur was, obviously trying to collect himself to not commit further mistakes.

  The beauty pushed through the leaded glass doors and ran for the balustrade. Fleur whimpered when the beauty leaped onto the only structure between her and a fall to her death on the rocky ground below. If I die today, brothers, I will haunt you, and…and shit in your shoes. Do something!

  Bestiale growled, because that had helped so much before, and said, “Put down the animal.”

  Fleur hissed, and her fur stood on edge as she glared at their brother.

  The redhead stood her ground, brushing a protective hand over Fleur as she squirmed. “If you think I’m going to let you eat this cat, you’re mistaken. You get her over my dead body. Back off!”

  Talk to her, brother, Charmeur murmured through the silence of thought, fearful she would lose her footing as the wind gusted and blew her long red hair around her shoulders, inciting his beast to reach for her.

  “Woman, we would never—”

  A strong gust sent hair flying into her eyes, and she gasped as she reached to brush it away and lost her balance. A heart-wrenching shriek filled the air as they rushed for the balustrade.

  * * * *

  “Don’t ever run from us.”

  The beast’s menacing voice churned with emotion as he looked down at her, his heavily callused grip secure on her forearm, holding her suspended above the jagged rocks a hundred feet below. The wind whistled up her shorts, and she wondered if he’d drop her now and make running a non-issue.

  The cat cautiously slipped from Angel’s grip and bounded from her shoulder to the furred and leather-bound forearm of the creature holding her suspended above sure death. He grunted as the feline sank her claws into his forearm and climbed his huge arm to his thick shoulder, as if making sure to do as much damage as she could along the way. She purred and rubbed against his rigid jaw and his temple and then looked at Angel as if she should do the same. Angel blinked and shook her noggin.

  Head in the game, Hunter.

  The beast panted from exertion, steam churning from his mouth. He glared at her with glowing, unearthly eyes the color of moonstones before the irises darkened to pewter. His gaze was fixed on her, and some of the ferocity left his expression. Angel stared back, captivated by the rigid set of his squared jaw, the harsh angles of his cheekbones, all covered with a layer of dark brown fur. The muscles in his shoulders must be massive, given the way they bulged against his garments.

  Uh, hello? Did you not hear him roar? Notice the fangs? Not a good time to be sampling your Beauty and the Beast fantasy.

  Fear returned when his full lips parted and he growled, once more showing his sharp teeth and intensifying his animalistic appearance. She slammed her eyes shut. How could she ever be captivated by a beast?

  “I don’t want to die,” she whispered. “Not at the hands of a monster.”

  He roared as though insulted, making her scream in fright, and the cat growled, its hair standing on end as it hissed at him, showing no fear whatsoever. He jerked and looked at the blue-eyed creature, and they seemed to have some sort of odd nonverbal discussion…while she still dangled in his grasp.

  “I’m sorry! Please…please don’t hurt me.”

  The other beast drew her attention as he looked over her captor’s shoulder and lifted the cat free and cradled her in his arms, patting her. There was a caring quality in the gentle way he handled the feline. He was still panting from chasing her, but she thought she saw a hint of kindness, or humor, in his eyes.

  The beast holding her took a couple of deep, slow breaths and closed his eyes. “I said don’t ever run from us. Do as I say and you’ll suffer no harm,” he growled as he lifted her with the help of the other beast and gently set her on her feet—where her knees gave out and she tipped toward the railing again.

  The other beast, his thick fur more reddish in hue, caught her in his arms and carried her through the leaded glass doors and into the warming room as if she weighed no more than a sack of flour. He spoke not a word to her, but she thought she saw a hint of a smile quirking his lips as he gazed at her mouth.

  As soon as he placed her on the bed she sat up. Before she could think of something to say, the scarier, and darker, of the two waved a large hand with huge curved claws around the room. As the balcony doors closed on their own, he said, “This room, and all within, is yours.” His tone was gentler, and his French accent would’ve delighted her under other circumstances.

  “Could you just let me go? I’ll find my own way home.” Right after I thaw out a little.

  “No. You cannot leave. This castle is the only dwelling for hundreds of leagues, and it is the dead of winter and has been…for a long, long time.”

  The other beast nodded mutely, his gaze downcast.

  “But the cave—I came to be here through a series of caves.”

  The beast was silent for several moments, as if waging a war within himself before finally speaking. “You appeared before us from thin air. There is no cave. And we would never hurt Fleur. She is…she is ours.” Purring, the white cat leaped up and settled within the crook of one of his arms, as she had with Angel. “When the second bell rings, your dinner will be waiting for you in the dining room.”

  Fleur slowly blinked her blue feline eyes at Angel, and an inexplicable wave of drowsiness came over her. Warmth from the fire relaxed her as she sank back into the plush pillows and looked up at them. The reddish-furred beast peered at her with beguiling blue eyes that slanted upward at the outer corners. Despite the bestial quality of his features, she sensed pleading in his gaze. She gave her head a shake, thinking she shouldn’t feel so exhausted.

  The scary beast reached for a soft fur thrown across the end of the bed and tugged it over her, enveloping her in warmth and the scent of the forest. “Sleep now, mon ange.”

  Okay, so that accent is a little captivating. Maybe.

  Her last thought before sleep overtook her was of Caresse and Elaina and how worried they must be that she hadn’t returned in time.

  Chapter Two

  Angel awakened and at first didn’t understand what she was seeing. After blinking, she realized it was the underside of a tree towering over her, its tremendous leafy branches stretching out to the horizon in all directions, filtering the soft sunlight glowing through.

  A gentle wind whispered over her skin, carrying the scent of wildflowers and ruffling the thick, silky fur she rested on against her skin. Closing her eyes, she basked in the heady sensations as she came fully awake. Another whisper of wind breathed over her bare abdomen, and she gasped as her nipples tightened. She thought to sit up but was unable to, as if she wasn’t in control of her limbs.

  The breeze drifted over her torso again, leaving gooseflesh in its warm wake, and she took in a sharp breath as the tender flesh between her legs pulsed. Flexing her hips, she sensed the slick heat between her lips. She couldn’t remember a particularly erotic dream, but she most definitely was aroused. The motion brushed the furs against her backside, and she sighed, relieved she was finally able to move, to stretch.

  She felt as if she’d slept for a day and a night. When she brushed her legs together, her clit throbbed and her nipples tightened. Heat rushed to her cheeks as it dawned on her that she was naked outdoors, lying on the fur, where anyone could see her. They could watch if she pleasured herself. The hedonistic thought made her even hotter. Desire for an orgasm flooded her, and she glanced around, wondering if anyone was in fact watching her. Seeing no one in the isolated landscape, she closed her eyes as she slid her hand down her abdomen to the slick and swollen flesh between her legs.

  “Oh, yes,” she moaned as she circled her clit, so slippery and hot, as if she’d been aroused for longer than just a few moments. Her entrance clenched, and she wished she had a toy with her but knew she wouldn’t take long, even without it.

  The fur caressed her back as she arched and tilted her hips. The growing heat in her flushed body contrasted with the cool breeze, making her shiver as if it were cold even though it wasn’t. Sliding her fingers into her entrance, she used the other hand to continue circling her clit, the tension growing deep within as she pumped her fingers in and out.

  As she panted and moaned, she slowly became aware of the rhythmic sound of footsteps, and a pair of shadows blotted out the dappled sunlight above. She tried to open her eyes but couldn’t. Warmth enclosed her on both sides, easing the chill on her heated skin from the cool breeze, and she froze as warm lips and a wet tongue encircled one of her tight nipples. A large, callused hand settled over her fingers circling her clit and pressed gently as if encouraging her to continue.

  A deep, whiskey-rough voice spoke next to her ear, sending shivers over her skin and making her even wetter. “Yes, mon ange. You are lovely like this.” The fingers worked over hers, increasing the tempo.

  Another pair of warm lips brushed the underside of her other breast, pressing light kisses. His lower lip dragged across her skin until her nipple ached for attention, and then she gasped as he dragged his teeth lightly over the hardened tip.

  As he teased her breast, another hand enclosed the top of her hand working in and out of her needy pussy. Oh, how she wanted to feel a hot cock filling her right that moment. Warm hands grasped her thighs and spread them. A low growl sounded as the motion revealed every inch of her, as well as how slick and swollen she was, ready to be fucked. One of them kissed her, gently at first, nibbling at her lips, but then more forcefully, his tongue dueling with hers until she was breathless and wild with need. Her pussy quivered, her orgasm mere seconds away, as lips trailed up her throat and brushed against the tender flesh beneath her ear.

  “Remember, mon ange, do not trust in appearances.”

  Diverted from her imminent orgasm, she tried to open her eyes but couldn’t. “Wh-what?”

  “Joli ange,” a velvety baritone whispered, drawing her attention.

  “Oh, just a little more. Please!” She moaned as the touch of lips upon her body and the pressure of hands guiding her as she pleasured herself eased off before whispering away on the breeze, taking the warmth with them.

  “Do not trust in appearances, ange,” the voice whispered, dwindling to silence as if blown away on the wind.

  “Reveiller, mon ange.”

  She blinked and sat up, her body on fire with the need for release as she looked at her surroundings. Then she heard a bell downstairs.

  The tops of her hands tingled, as though they still felt the touch of the capable fingers from moments earlier, her heart still palpitated, and her pussy ached with the tension that had gone unfulfilled. Where had that whispering come from?

  “Is someone spying on me? Where are you?” Was she still dreaming? Had that been a dream? Or was this—a castle inhabited by two beasts and a cat—the actual dream? Oh man, I must’ve hit my head really hard.

  “Ange doux, je suis ici,” the voice whispered.

  “I don’t know where you are or what you’re saying. Where are you?” she called out to the room as she pulled the throw over her chest, even though she was still dressed in her tank top and shorts. Were there peepholes in the walls?

  “Sweet angel, I am here,” the voice repeated, a hint of teasing in his French-accented tone. “The vanity, beauté.”

  “Um, my name is really Angel.”

  “Come sit at the vanity, Angel.” The soothing male voice, so different from the beast’s, should not have been encouraging but somehow it was, drawing her near. She paused and then eased into the cushioned chair before the mirror.

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