She is my mate

"Nothing!" I cried, turning to look at the drop which would kill even an immortal. "Nothing, Saint! My father didn't know we grew it. My mother's people brought the herbs with them from Norway, planting them all over the mountain to increase the alpha's calmness. It simply suppressed his need to kill everything and the rage that drove it!" I tore my eyes from the ground, looking back at his angry face.

"Why do they always look down? It only increases the fear they feel at dangling over such height," Eryx asked, pulling off the joint while he enjoyed the show.

Saint jerked me over the railing and shoved me against the wall. His hand pushed against my throat before he turned to Eryx, grabbing the joint to inhale it deeply. Saint grinned and pressed his lips against mine, forcing the smoke into my lungs. He lifted his hand, holding it against my nose and mouth as my lungs burned.

When he finally released me, a deep cough clapped out of my throat, and I tapped my hand against my chest. He turned, nodding his chin to Eryx. "Let's go. There's whiskey calling our name, and my sweet, willing mate needs to show the pack she's eager to be mounted like the whore she is."

"You're going to feel like such an asshole," I muttered, watching as he turned to gaze at me over his shoulder. I smiled inwardly, slowly trailing after them.

Outside, the pack was already drinking, being rowdy, but still cautious for some reason. I lifted my nose, catching the scent of hunters and dark, wicked desire that screamed of demons. Saint grabbed me by the waist, walking me toward a group that stood away from the pack. His crew was there as well, observing as the pack drank and stared back at the hunters.

This was a catastrophe in the making. Hunters lived by strict codes, most of which included hunting down our kind. They didn't care if we remained away from humans because they thought they were the superior race. Humans didn't enjoy the fact that they weren't at the top of the food chain, because more often than not, they were tasty with some added herbs.

Saint pulled me into his body the moment we were in front of his crew and the outsiders. They all looked at me, slowly taking in my features while I remained as still and stiff as a statue. No one spoke, making an awkward silence. I had to bite my tongue to keep from blabbing anything that would fill it since I didn't do well with strangers or pretty much people in general.

"Have a drink, Braelyn," Bowen announced, smiling as he pushed a bottle of tequila in front of me. "Yeah, Princess. Drink with us," Sian chuckled, grabbing the bottle to pour shots.

My eyes slid to the lone female in the group, taking in her warrior braids while she returned the stare. Her eyes were blue and vibrant with intelligence shining while her mouth twisted in amusement. Judging by the way she watched me, she had already decided I'd look better six feet underground.

"It's a beautiful place you have here, Braelyn," a man in his thirties stated. "Had," the female inserted, watching me.

"My mother's people settled here one hundred years ago," I replied, grabbing the bottle and tossing it back, ignoring the seriously hot demon that observed me silently. I polished off the fifth, setting it down before turning toward Bowen, whose rounded eyes peered over my head. "Come on, Bowen. Don't let a little pampered bitch out-drink you. Next bottle? I really don't want to remember tonight, ever."

Blue eyes speckled with dark flecks locked with mine across the makeshift table. The male's hair shone in the fire's light, and the way he watched me felt as if he was accessing every dark sin I'd ever committed. This male didn't just look at you; he gazed into your soul, slowly picking it apart while you stood there, helpless to look away. His mouth curved into a soft smile, and his gaze released mine as if he hadn't just fucking dissected me like some wild animal. "This is Xavier. Xariana is his daughter," Saint stated, nodding toward the woman and the older gentlemen. "This is Enzo and Ezekiel. They're..." he paused, turning to look at me with a smile playing on his mouth. "Hunters and demons, and the one behind him is fae. Which type, I'm uncertain.

There are fifty-three hunters, seventeen demons, three witches, and one fae within pack territory. Five hunters are looking at the wolves across from us, wondering which will shift and cause a problem, allowing them to be killed. The answer is simple; none will change because we're not shifters, unlike the wolf standing at their back. The demons are incubuses. The smell of sex rolling off them gives it away. One is something else, but he has no scent other than the darkness that envelopes him in secrets, but he wants it that way. There are over sixty shifters, each wanting to get their itches scratched, and they really don't care how they do it. Three totem wolves and five Lycans are within the wolves, hiding their scent among them. In short, you brought a shit-show to the mountain. Am I missing anyone?" My eyes held Saint's, watching as they narrowed on me in surprise. "I may have grown up in the mountains, but I am not stupid in the ways of shit that can kill us.”

"I think you covered it very well, Braelyn," Enzo said, tilting his dark head and smiling at me as if he knew something I didn't.

A bottle was put in front of me, and I reached for it, but Saint's hand landed over mine, removing the bottle from my grasp. He poured drinks into the cups on the table and placed one in front of me as he brushed his heated lips against my ear.

"You will not be able to forget tonight, mate," he murmured, sending a shiver racing down my spine.

"A girl can dream, Saint. Sometimes, dreams are all that's left when every thing is burned to ash."

"Finish your drink, and we will retire to the mating tent, Braelyn."

"I'd rather swallow razor blades and deal with that aftermath," I muttered, seeing Enzo's smile widen. "They'd probably be gentler than I plan to be with you tonight," he continued, sending a blush rushing to my cheeks. "Drink so that I can fuck you." I tipped my glass back, finishing it, then wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Someone said something to Saint, forcing him to turn toward the voice. My eyes slid up, which normally didn't happen at my height. I stared into Nordic-blue eyes that slid over me before shifting back to Saint.

"Blessings and may the gods be kind and fill your womb tonight, Braelyn Haralson. It is rare to find your true soul mate, and I am curious. Why did you reject him?" the male asked. He wasn't just any male -he was Lycan. A savage breed, they were.

"I was a young girl, trying to protect Saint from my father. He gave me two impossible choices. I chose badly, apparently."

"You may find happiness yet, brother."

"Braelyn, you know of Leif Knight, right?" Saint asked, watching the blood drain from my face. "Don't worry. He isn't here to murder your pack. He came with me."

"Velsignet er ulven og hans blodlinje, kong Leif." "She speaks Norwegian," Leif stated, bowing his head. "Blessed is the bride of the wolf who carries his bloodline within her womb, Princess."

"I'm not actually a princess. They just enjoy calling me that to taunt me." "Your mother was a princess, and a very beautiful one at that," Leif returned softly.

"This world holds no titles, and neither do we anymore," I whispered, moving away from them to hide the shame of being blackballed wolves. Leif's family had hunted mine down, driving us out of Norway. It was how we'd ended up here.

"That was rude, Brat."

"You brought enemies to our doors, and you want to speak about being rude? You realize Leif hunted my family down and murdered most of them, right? Simply because he was a Lycan, and we weren't."

"You will respect my guests, Braelyn. You've lived a sheltered, privileged life here. That group consists of survivors who make it their business to hunt down monsters. The only reason you're not on their kill list is that I promised to tame you and make you pay for your trespasses against all creatures."

"And pray tell, how have I trespassed against these creatures?" I demanded, pausing just outside the tent.

Saint's eyes burned with anger as drunken women grabbed me, whisking me into the tent. I yelped, surprised, as they began stripping me. Tora's eyes met mine as she pretended to be drunk, plopping whiskey down beside the furs they had forced me onto after being stripped naked. This shit tradition really needed never to be used, ever again.

"Are you okay?" Tora whispered, her eyes lifted to the front of the tent where Saint had entered with his men, all of them staring at us.

"I'm fine. Everything is fine. I'll be okay," I promised, uncertain if I was telling the truth.

"She'll be fine, Toralei. She's my mate, not yours. Get out and stand guard with the others who will protect us for the duration of the night," Saint hissed. My best friend and the worst beta ever because, like me, she wasn't actually a beta at all, slipped through the flap to do as Saint instructed. Saint's eyes slid over my marked shoulder and then lowered to where I clenched the furs to my naked chest. His crew didn't help him shed his clothes, but they didn't leave right away either. Instead, they all stood inside the tent, crowding it while I sat awkwardly watching them.

"Make her scream for us, yeah?" Eryx snorted, patting Saint on the back. "She'll scream for me," Saint promised, holding my gaze locked to his.

The men chuckled, exiting the tent, leaving me alone to face Saint. He pushed down his pants, exposing his cock to my heated gaze. I turned away from the sight of him as nervousness plagued my mind. He was hugely endowed, and that shit wasn't fitting into any tight spaces without an intense amount of pain.

He tugged at the furs, causing my wide eyes to swing back to where he stood, studying me. My grip tightened as a soft smile played on his mouth. His attention slid to my white-knuckled grip and narrowed before he exhaled, walking to the side of the fur pallet, crudely made for our mating. Blood rushed to my cheeks as I closed my eyes against the sleek build of his body. I could survive this, right? No matter how brutal he intended to be, I would survive this, too. I had to. My pack counted on me for their survival. I could handle one dick because, well, there wasn't any other choice.