Mating Fever by Celeste Anwar Page B

the odds. His brain clouded as the
animal within him threatened to take control. It stretched inside,
uncurling through his limbs, making his muscles jump with power and
barely checked violence.
     
    It seduced, promised the euphoria only
animalistic existence could provide ... the high of the fight, the
rush of wolfen speed ... the taste of kill.
     
    Gabriel closed his eyes and gritted his
teeth, his hands clenched tightly. The lure was as seductive as a
woman, stronger, in a way that insanity beat the sane.
     
    With effort, he fought it back, until he was
panting for breath. He opened his eyes and faced his pack as he
would an enemy. What he saw confirmed what he’d already suspected.
A shudder of remorse surged through him.
     
    They were all naked. Ready to shift.
     
    Ready to kill.
     
    He knew it with absolute certainty.
     
    More than anything, that fact brought home
how serious his situation was--as if he could have ever been in
doubt. And still, he did not regret finding Jessica, nor staking
his claim to her. He regretted not warning her away from New
Orleans, for not fighting her stubborn streak and getting her out
of the city while she was still safe. The warding medallion would
never hold now. It was a miracle the power had lasted as long as it
had. Without it, she would be in danger wherever she went ... any
place that neared a Lycan stronghold. She might not ever be safe
again. She needed a mate able to fight for her, able to secure
their place in the world. Perhaps an army would not even be
enough....
     
    He told himself he could have made her go,
even though it was foolish to think she would have believed
anything he said.
     
    The menace of the pack quieted as their
leader came forth, moving with stealth through the parted bodies
and into the clearing.
     
    Gabriel faced him, shielding the anger from
his eyes, tamping down his sudden, fierce urge to shift. Gabriel
did not speak. Instead, he waited to hear what the charges were.
They were not animals--not yet.
     
    Deron, pack leader, had forced them to retain
some measure of humanity in the pack structure. He’d ruled them for
over two decades, taken control when it looked as though the vamps
would wipe out their race entirely in these parts. They’d been easy
prey then, solitary. Deron had forged them into a group. Now
Gabriel wondered how far Deron’s humanity extended. Ideally,
Gabriel would be allowed to face his accusers and deny their
accusations, and would be granted a fair trial by his peers.
     
    He nearly sneered at that thought.
     
    They were eager for blood, anyone’s
blood--especially one who’d found someone precious and rare ... and
dared to deny them equal chance to pursue it for themselves.
     
    The hunt for women able to survive Lycan
mating and change was fierce, and usually deadly for the female.
He’d heard of some Lycan communities to actually hunt their females
in a competitions of sorts, where only the fastest and strongest
won and the weak perished.
     
    Deron raised his arms, quieting the angry
murmurs around them before he began to speak. “Gabriel Benoit, you
stand before the pack charged with attacking fellow pack members
John, Michael, and Cruz, and for claiming a female without fair
contest. How do you plead?”
     
    “I am not guilty for attackin’ John, Michael,
and Cruz. For claimin’ the female, I am.”
     
    The pack roared with disbelief, deafening him
with angry howls and shouts. A wind rose, ruffling his hair,
seeming to echo their fury.
     
    “Silence!” Deron yelled above them. The noise
reluctantly died down. “Explain yourself, Gabriel.”
     
    “I found the female held down by the three
members. Her legs were spread, and Cruz knelt between them, his
cock hard and ready. They were going to rape her.”
     
    Cruz spoke up from his right with a nasty
growl, “She’s in heat. The pretty cunt begged for what I had to
give her. She didn’t want you--”
     
    “Enough, Cruz,” Deron said quietly,