Archive (Halfblood Club Book 4) Read online

  Ten finalists in total were declared and the women with her leapt up to console a few of the losers that cast longing glances toward the feminine huddle. They may have lost the Archive battle, but they would not be spending the night alone.

  As a few of the finalists turned toward her, her honour guard stepped between them. Apparently, fraternizing was not to be allowed. Especially considering that the men were still nude, and interested.

  “Miss Simpson? If you would come with me, the pack alphas would like to meet you.” A messenger appeared next to her and she squinted into the sun, noting his silhouette and having a flickering thought about the dream she had enjoyed after the day at the pond.

  It wasn’t the same man. She didn’t know who had been in her dream, but it wasn’t this man. “Fine, lead the way.” With a little effort she rose from the grass and brushed the remnants off her jeans. Her bottom was a little damp, but nothing that wouldn’t dry in the afternoon sun.

  A sharp tug on her leg let her know that her gremlin had reappeared. He scampered up and climbed onto her shoulders, his face buried in her hair.

  She looked about to see what had scared him and laughed at the sight of a group of wolves snarling at him from twelve feet away. Her guards were all that stood between her gremlin and the hungry jaws.

  “This is my gremlin, please don’t eat him.” She addressed the shifted wers and was gratified to see them turn away from her with a swish of tails and a few glances at her hair.

  The messenger was waiting for her, bemused.

  “Lead on.” She squared her shoulders and followed the back of the messenger, with her guards flanking her on all sides.

  Her tent beckoned, and within were the bosses of the clans that were after her. A deep breath and she was ready for the inquisition.

  The dim confines of the tent almost blinded her for a moment so she came to a complete halt inside the flap. Five shadows sat around a table that had been erected for this purpose. The table was round and she suspected that it was only that which kept the alphas from fighting to be the head of the table.

  She immediately took charge. “Welcome to my tent, gentlemen. What can I do for you?”

  They looked confused, finally one spoke. “We wish to know a little more about your talent.”

  “What about it?”

  “Well, we know that you owe your allegiance to Alfred and the Yellowpaw clan, but what benefit would be given by having you linked to one of our clans?”

  She sat and glanced over at the man who shared her hair colour, then dismissed him with a flick of her lids. The huff she exhaled was understood by all before she said, “I owe my allegiance to no clan. Least of all my mother’s. She was disowned by her family when she left, and they never acknowledged me. I owe them nothing.”

  The scowl that ran over what had to be her grandfather’s face made the tiny neglected girl deep within her cheer in glee. Served the old bastard right. Her mother had tried several times during her childhood to engage her father in her family. It had never worked, and her mother had been devastated.

  He could rot. So could his clan.

  Chapter Seven

  “An Archive is a being who can create spells. Those spells are used by magical races for tasks or tools.” She grinned viciously, “And they pay through the nose for the privilege.” As she sat her Coke was delivered to her by one of her entourage. The girl took one look at the assembled leaders and bolted.

  Her grandfather tried to assert himself. “Just how do you know that? We were told that you had not been in contact with the general magical public.”

  “I have friends who brokered the spells to interested parties. It has kept me well financed over the last few years.” The beverage was rapidly disappearing as she sipped at it. It seemed to hit the spot. “Who are you all, by the way?” She looked around at the alphas. “I know Alfred, I see those eyes in the mirror, but who are the rest of you?”

  And so she was introduced to the clan leaders. It was only the alpha of the Silverfang that stuck with her. Walther was kind, debonair and had a harsh sensuality about him that was oddly familiar.

  The questions that they asked her were almost amusing; they wanted to know how her talent would impact their status in Realm, so, she told them.

  “By controlling their access to me, you control their access to new spells. You will get respect, bribery and an instant vote in the council. The clan that I end up with will have more status in the halls of Realm by their association with me.” Her pride was not misplaced. It was a simple fact and the reason that she had stayed away from the packs for so long.

  It would be a manner of ownership. She would become property to be possessed, her talents a commodity.

  Then came the question that she had been waiting for. “Will your talents be passed to your children?”

  Walther had asked it, so she answered it. “No. I do not believe that two generations of Archive have ever been. Not in the same family. My talents will die with me as far as I am aware.” It was odd to talk about her death in such bald terms, but it needed to be stated.

  They would not be able to breed another from her. It wasn’t even plausible. The occurrence of an Archive was so rare as to be astronomically unlikely. Two in one family were unheard of.

  The heads of the alphas darted together, a frantic murmuring occurred and they muttered in low tones. It was almost a sibilant hissing and guttural growls, and she blinked as she realized that it was wer. The language of the packs.

  She had never been taught the language as her lack of shifting ability made it impossible to understand. It was part of the magic of the shape shifters, and magic was not an ability that she possessed.

  Mel waited for the alphas to finish and then stated, “It is extremely rude to speak in a language that others can’t understand. So what was the verdict?”

  “We decided that you are still a welcome addition to the packs, even with your limited genetic potential.” Alfred announced it with a sneer. He looked almost hostile and she knew it was because of her denouncing her clan obligations.

  She smiled tightly. “With my mother’s faulty genetics, it was a wonder that I have any talents at all.” His mouth opened in shock as he absorbed the insult. No daughter of a beta should dare to speak to him like this. It struck him in his pride. That his child was a daughter of two healthy alphas and had still only the basic talents of a beta was obviously a sore spot.

  “Enough you two. Stop it.” Walther was verbally separating them. The glares darting back and forth across the table were almost visible. “Melissande, thank you for answering our concerns. You will be a wonderful addition to any of the packs, and we hope that the selection of suitors provides you with a suitable spectrum from which to choose.”

  “Thank you, Walther. You have treated me with respect and it is appreciated.” She stood and nodded to the rest. “I am heading out to see what else your clans have to offer aside from their men.”

  The ladies were all grouped around the entrance of the tent, several casting longing glances to some of the other games that were going on.

  Jinx burst out laughing; they were indeed playing fly ball. All the players were already transformed and they had made up teams. It was bizarre to watch them playing in coordinated manoeuvres, tongues lolling as they raced along, caught the ball and then waited for their turn again.

  It was a relay. Wolf after wolf pounced, caught the ball and then ran to deposit it in a barrel on the side nearest the next team member.

  It was hilarious. The ladies herded her to the sidelines and they all had a good laugh as the teams took turns and the final heat resulted in a winner. The Daggerfang team had done well, finishing first in three out of five rounds. The girls with her cheered, and it was at that moment that she realized that they were all adults.

  There was not one child at the entire gathering.

  “Where are the kids? My mom told me that at clan gatherings ther
e were always kids.” She asked her group at large, but it was Becs who answered.

  “No one wanted to chance bringing children when there were so many clans represented. It hasn’t happened in years and they decided that kids would be safer away.”

  Mel pondered the testosterone-laden air and agreed that it was a sensible decision.

  After all, the guys were showing up to defend their pack’s honour and to make a good impression on a possible mate. With all those naked muscled men running around it was probably more of an education than children would need.

  If she was honest, it was a little much for her as well.

  Chapter Eight

  The day finally drew to a close and she was once again shepherded home in the same van she had arrived in. Barbeque had been both lunch and dinner; unsurprising with so many carnivores in the area.

  The heat and the stress were taking their toll on her and she was only too relieved to fall into bed after her entourage had been dropped off at her house.

  * * * *

  A wild and uncontrolled heat gripped her. She knew this feeling and yet had never experienced it firsthand. Hands cupped her breasts as a mouth trailed kisses down her neck; she tilted her head back and let her body take her over. She wasn’t going to let these sensations get away. This time she would embrace them, and her dream lover, wholeheartedly.

  A firm heated pressure was on her lower back and she rocked herself against it. It was either his cock, or he was smuggling a rod of radioactive material, because her flesh caught fire at the contact. Parts of her were melting at the contact and she had a feeling that he knew it.

  She still couldn’t see him but she could feel and smell him now. It was heavenly. Her pulse was hammering heavily through her torso and a fine tremor began in her limbs.

  One of his hands stroked slowly down her abdomen and she shook as it delved between her thighs. A finger slowly circled her clit and she mewled in reaction. A steady flow of moisture was creeping out of her slit and she felt a blossoming of sensation deep inside as her orgasm overtook her.

  * * * *

  A keening cry broke from her and she woke, sweating and gasping, with a sickening feeling that her dream had not been silent.

  * * * *

  The next day was the same; only this time there were games in the morning and the final races for her favours in the afternoon. No one mentioned her moaning in the night. Perhaps no one had noticed.

  The first race was a hunt. They had to run into the woods and return with a gift for her. A few of them smiled confidently, but only Sirnel smiled at her with warmth in his eyes. He had something planned, she could feel it.

  Once again, the men stood and waited for the signal, this time everyone looked to her and bemused, she clapped sharply to start them off. They literally turned tail and ran.

  It was only five minutes before the first wolf reappeared and dropped a rabbit at her feet. She shivered and looked at it distastefully.

  For wolves, the scent of blood was an aphrodisiac, but for her it was simply blood. Her gremlin bounded over chortling and took a poke at the rabbit. The wolf that had brought it snarled at him, but made no move to attack her pet. Apparently, he had gotten the memo.

  The second also brought a rabbit. As did the third and fourth.

  The fifth brought a small deer, the sixth a hawk. Then a dove, and then Sirnel appeared with the perfect gift.

  A branch of berries was clutched in his jaws, and when he opened his mouth to drop the offering, she saw a bunch of nuts fall to the ground. The gremlin was on them in an instant and she smiled as he consumed the food with glee. Out of nowhere a squirrel joined it and together they had a snack with Melissande laughing her head off.

  The other wolves looked on in confusion as she smiled and enjoyed the enjoyment of her companions. The two remaining offerings did not even register on her consciousness as her mind fell into the eyes of the wolf that was rapidly capturing her heart.

  The rest of the world fell away and she recognized him for what he was. Her dream lover.

  Sirnel was hers. She was his. There was nothing else to say.

  She crossed to him and knelt in front of the wolf. On an impulse, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his fur. A snarl of rage was the only warning she had as Sirnel was ripped from her unceremoniously and thrown into her guardsmen. A ball of fur and fang bolted past her and a battle was joined.

  As a cry rang out, “Geoffrey! Stop it!” she realized that it was Alfred trying to call off his pack member. The order went unheeded. Geoffrey was trying to take Sirnel’s throat out, and her chosen was not about to let him.

  At no time did the snarling and snapping jaws tempt her to break up the fight. She was out-classed and knew it. She knelt, still and waiting, for a winner.

  Fur flew, blood coursed and Sirnel gained the upper hand. Paw. Whatever. Geoffrey was pinned to the ground, teeth firmly wrapped around his neck. He struggled for long moments and finally went limp, whining his acceptance.

  Sirnel cautiously let his subordinate go. Watching for a final attack. It didn’t come. Geoffrey slowly gained his footing and shook himself into human form. Blood streaked his golden skin and he climbed to his feet, covered with bites and claw marks.

  Alfred approached him and calmly backhanded him. The crack of knuckles against flesh rang in the clearing in a way the snarls hadn’t. That action caused her to flinch where the melee hadn’t. It was brutal, this pack discipline, but necessary to keep the younger alphas in order. Geoffrey was unconscious; his body slumped in silence on the grass, only the telltale movement of his chest giving proof of life.

  Sirnel was watching, still in wolf form. As she crumpled to the ground in shock he came to her and licked her chin. She wanted him to lick a lot more than that, but not in this form.

  Her thoughts shocked her and the wetness seeping from her shocked her even more. It wasn’t like her to chase tail. Especially anthropomorphic tail.

  As she wrapped her arms around him she felt him shiver and fur gave way to flesh. Arms tightened around her and she was burying her face in the crook of his neck while she hid from Alfred’s brutality.

  “Thank you for choosing me, Melissande. You won’t regret it.” His voice sent gooseflesh down her spine. She was shaking, but no longer knew if it was shock or lust. She really hoped that lust would win.

  “I know I won’t. I just hope you don’t.” She answered him in a voice so quiet she was sure he could barely hear her.

  Chapter Nine

  Mel’s head spun as a whirlwind of declarations and confirmations as well as a signed contract occurred in rapid succession. She was bundled into a waiting car and the next thing she knew, Sirnel was driving her off into the afternoon.

  Half an hour later a house loomed in front of them. It was a one-floor bungalow, but it was anything but modest.

  A railing and a porch surrounded the house on all sides, three steps led to the main door but a patio and an outdoor dinette set were visible on the left side of what had to be Sirnel’s home.

  A wave of trepidation broke over her as she realized that her life had come to a crisis point. It was now or never. Surrender her virginity and possession of her talents to Sirnel, or run like hell and hope he didn’t feel like chasing her. Yeah right.

  As he came around to open her door and caught her into an embrace so steamy that her toes curled, she knew that a chase would be on.

  “Would you care to see the inside of my house? Or do you want me to fuck you up against the car?”

  “Uhh, inside please.” The whole virginity thing was going to come up, and based on his erection, it was already up. “There is something you need to know.”

  His arm curved around her waist and she was escorted into his home with all state and propriety. Well, as proper as a guy could be when he was sporting a raging boner and sliding his hand down onto her ass.

  The kitchen and living room were blur
s as he hustled her to the bedroom. His bed was a king-sized monstrosity and the bank of windows that ran the length of one wall contained a set of French doors that led out onto the patio that she had noted earlier.

  She was given no chance to absorb any more of the details as he took possession of her mouth once again; she trembled in his arms, her lips parting under his assault. His tongue lapped at her and she felt his tongue scraping across her teeth. A sharp giggle and he slipped inside to taste her own tongue. When she reciprocated she heard a satisfied growl and his muscles bunched under her hands. In an instant, she was falling through the air and felt the impact of a firm surface beneath her back. His body followed her to the bed and she was soon writhing beneath him, trying to dislodge him from her hair. It was only when a sharp tug produced a yelp from her that he let her up for air.

  “Ow, you’re on my hair.” She struggled up against the headboard and sat up. “And, I am a virgin. This is my first time.”

  The lust in his eyes faded slightly, “What?” He shook his head to clear it, then focused on her words.

  “I haven’t had sex before. You are my first.”

  “What?” It still didn’t seem to sink in.

  She slapped his face lightly, “This is the first time I am having sex. Ever.” She paused again. “In my life.”

  He reared back on his heels and looked at her, “You have to be joking.” The erection that was threatening the structure of his zipper wasn’t dissipating; she was relieved to see.

  “No. Not a joke. I wouldn’t be sitting here and waiting for your reaction if it was a joke.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her softly. “Thank you for telling me.”

  She leaned into the kiss and used her hands to peel away his t-shirt. He reciprocated and soon she was trembling in anticipation as he perused her naked body in the afternoon sunlight as it filtered through the curtains.