Raze was disgusted by their actions. The main scent should not excite them. It should invoke a deep instinctual need to protect anyone who carried that scent, but years of violence and disrespect of ancient lycan law had bled that instinct out of most of the pack.

Raze watched the blonde while Damon continued a speech he only half listened to now. Her wide eyes and pale face made it clear that she was petrified. She was of average height and wore dark jeans that hugged her curves. He liked women with curves. She wasn’t fat by any means, but she wasn’t one of those women who pecked at salads. He’d bet she liked a good 11

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steak as much as he did. Her blouse was purple and tapered under her breasts, letting the fabric below fall loosely around her waist.

Raze focused back in on what Damon was saying and his heart lodged in his throat where it nearly stopped beating.

“I have decided that Raze will initiate the woman who is carrying our scent into the pack. He has never participated in any other initiation, though there have been many over the years. I believe that once he has partaken in our rituals, and sees for himself that these humans marked with the main scent are ours to do with as we see fit, he will fully embrace the pack into his heart.” Damon raised his arms to encourage the praise of the pack.

Cheers, more howls and growls erupted through the group. Raze’s stomach clenched violently, and he thought he might throw up. Damon was going to force him to rape this woman? His mate?

“No!” Raze watched as Damon turned and faced him. An eerie quietness fell before he continued. “I will not do this.”

“Oh, you will do this, brother, or you will watch her be used by every single member of the pack before being murdered. I promise you it will not be a quick death.” Damon sneered at Raze. “You make the choice. Her blood or her body? Makes little difference to me.”

When Raze didn’t answer, Damon turned back to the pack. “I guess we will all have a bit of fun tonight after all. Now, who shall go first? How about—”

“No!” He couldn’t allow anyone to touch her. He’d never forgive himself. But, he knew he’d never be able to rape her. He’d have to buy them both some time, and hopefully, he’d figure a way to get them out of this mess.

“Does this mean you’ve had a change of heart?” Damon waited for Raze’s answer.

“I will do it, but only in here.” He knew he’d have a bit of an advantage in the cave. Not everything would be as easily visible inside, and a plan was forming in his head.

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“Makes no difference to me. There will still be plenty of a show to see from out here.” Damon motioned to the two lycans holding the woman.

“Take her to him.”

She struggled, kicked, and pleaded the whole time she was being dragged to the cave. Raze ached to be able to tell her everything would be okay. He’d make sure she was not hurt. It was his duty to protect her with his life.

Unfortunately, at this particular moment in time, that meant doing whatever he had to do to keep her safe, even if it meant scaring her.

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Chapter Three

“Please! Let me go. I haven’t done anything to anyone. Just let me go home.” Janine had never been so scared in her entire life.

She hadn’t thought being kidnapped could get any worse. She’d been wrong. She had at least thought she’d have a chance at getting away from her captor until she’d seen where he’d been dragging her to. There were at least twenty-five men standing around the biggest fire she’d ever seen. They were all big, scary and feral-looking. They painted a picture of what she might have imagined Vikings, or even cavemen, to look and live like. They were raw, primitive, and she hadn’t a hope in hell of escaping.

A strange scent curled through her nose, which she could only describe as wildness. From what she had gained from her captor’s speech, she was about to be used as a means of punishment, which was kind of ironic since she was the one who was obviously going to suffer the most. All the talk about packs and leaders had thrown her a bit, but she narrowed it down to assuming they must be some type of cult.

Tears welled in her eyes, and hopelessness beat through her with wings of terror. She was never going to get out of this alive. She was in the middle of nowhere with scraggily men who obviously had no respect for life, or at least not for hers.

At the mouth of the cave, she was shoved toward the man inside with such force, she landed on her knees on the hard packed dirt floor in front of him.

She gasped when she looked into gray eyes that eerily glowed back at her from the dimly lit cave. He was crouching, and remained as still as a rock.

Not one muscle twitched. Not one blink of his lids betrayed his statue like pose. One of those funny images came to mind of a homeowner walking in on a burglar who freezes. The unsuspecting homeowner walks by the robber several times, getting a beer from the fridge, grabbing a newspaper from the table, and never so much as glances at the intruder before retiring to another room. This man in front of her was capable of pulling off such a feat in real life.

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Suddenly, he lurched forward, and she fell back hard on her backside, thankful for the first time in her life that she had a bit of extra cushion there to soften the fall. She propped her

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