The Somerset Series: A Box Set: Books 2-4 Read online

  He had no idea who this woman was, and yet he had to see her. He was intoxicated by her fragrance, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  "NDS," a teenage wolf said as Marcus came in contact with the ballroom doors.

  "Is everyone alright?" Even though the question itself seemed compassionate, it was firm, as was everything Marcus said or asked. Rare was it to ever detect some other kind of emotion in his low voice.

  "Yes," the teenager replied breathlessly. It didn't look as though he had participated in their capture, but had gotten caught up in the excitement of it all. "But she put up quite a fight."

  This caused Marcus to pause and raise a brow.

  She?

  Marcus swallowed and cleared his thoughts before opening the doors and walking through them into the grand ballroom. There were four people in total who were all being held by a member of his pack, but she was the only one he was interested in. It was quite obvious they were from NDS; their traditional black jumpsuits said enough. But what, exactly, were they doing here?

  "What do you want?" he asked in a gravelly voice, his hazel eyes fixed firmly on the young woman.

  Surprisingly enough, she matched his gaze with a stare of her own, and from the corner of his eyes, he could see her jaw pop, as though she was refraining from saying something.

  "We have a warrant for your arrest," one of the other men answered in a feeble voice that the speaker mistook as strong.

  "Oh?" This seemed to amuse Marcus, and as a result, he cocked his right brow and the corners of his lips twitched up. "And what is it, exactly, you’re accusing me of?”

  "Embezzling," another man – this one with his blonde hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, responded, more confidently than the last speaker.

  This caused Marcus to tilt his head back and bark out in laughter. How rich, that these humans thought he would waste his efforts and talents on something such as embezzling.

  "Let us go," the third man demanded, clearly unafraid of his current predicament. "Let us go this instant! Do you realize you're just hurting yourself by keeping us imprisoned here? New charges will be brought against you and the members of your pack!"

  "Enough," Marcus snapped, throwing a dangerous gaze at Ponytail who had spoken. "I do not intend to keep you here, human. In fact, I fully intend to let you go." A dark smile touched his lips, and he glanced over at Ryan, his second in command while Gerard was away. "Bring them upstairs, to the yard."

  "Here's the game," Marcus said as he paced in front of his captives. "I'm going to give each of you a two-minute head start. If the four of you can escape without one of us capturing you, you're free to go, but you must reach the edge of the property in time. If you don't… well, I can't always control my pack, and they may not be able to control themselves." He paused and looked directly into the young woman's eyes. Even with the threat of death hanging in the air, she still managed to put on an indifferent face. This fact amused him.

  "Ready?" He glanced at the others before falling behind the prisoners. "Go!"

  They all took off, and the three awaiting werewolves growled with impatience. Marcus glanced over at them. "Don't touch the blonde," he growled as he tensed his body, preparing to spring. "She's mine."

  When two minutes were up, the wolves sprang into action. Everyone but Marcus immediately transformed into a wolf. Even without transforming into his Other Self, his senses were sharp, and it didn’t take long for him to catch up to his intended target. Without warning, he pounced on her, his hands firmly gripping her waist, causing her to forcefully fall on her back with him on top of her.

  If anything, the desire was purely sexual, and as with vampires and humans, it clouded his rationale. Without thinking, he leaned towards her and sank his canines into her neck. Unlike vampires, werewolves didn't need to feed on blood to stay alive. However, like vampires, they marked what was theirs. And at that moment, Marcus wanted nothing more than her.

  He watched emotions touch her ice blue eyes – shock, hatred, and then – Nothing. Marcus shook his head and stumbled off, leaving her to be found by some member of her team. He stumbled off, still unsure what he did and what the repercussions of his action would be.

  3

  He could still smell her, even though she was gone. And he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  The feeling was odd for Marcus Sterling, and he wasn't quite sure if he liked it or not. Hell, he didn't even know the woman's name. But then again, it didn't seem to matter. He still had a vivid picture of her in his mind.

  She had too many curves to be called petite but she appeared only to be five foot four, maybe five foot five on a good day. She had fiery hair that appeared darker in the shadows, but the vibrant gold color still managed to shine through. Her eyes were an ice blue color. Her nose was long and petite, but fit her face. Her lips were full and looked particularly soft.

  She hadn't been afraid of him, or at least, pretended not to be. It was an interesting way of acting around him, and he wasn't sure if he should admire her for her bravery or if he should laugh at it because of how transparent it was.

  She was fast, too. In all honesty, he hadn't expected her to get to the point of where she was in the forest so quickly. She had to be in shape. Then, considering her job, that level of physical fitness was probably a requirement.

  Currently, he was standing in his bedroom, staring out the dark window. One hand was on his hip while his hazel eyes were narrowed in unparalleled focus. He could see through the darkness even though it was pitch black as if he was still looking for her. But he knew better. She was long gone.

  Marcus couldn't explain, for the life of him, just why he had leaned forward and bit her neck. It wasn't as though he had lost control of himself in any way. After all, he was still in his human form when he ran after her. He had control over his body, his mind, and his actions. A choice had been made. Instincts were followed. And with his body towering over hers, his arm wrapped around her waist, he had had her trapped beneath him, and something told him to bite her neck.

  Similar to vampires, a bite was somewhat like a physical mark resembling a connection of sorts. It left a permanent mark, which was probably why he had done it, a mark to symbolize that the woman was his. A very small crescent moon shaped scar would be there for the rest of her life, however long that may be, and as a result, the whole world would know that she now belonged to him. It was almost a warning to other suitors to back the fuck off or they would have to deal with him.

  Marcus had never been very possessive when it came to the opposite sex, but then again, he never felt any reason to. Even though he didn't know her, the mere thought of anyone touching what was his caused him to scowl dangerously as a low growl rumbled within the bowels of his throat.

  He hadn't changed her, but once his lips were on her neck and his teeth had touched her flesh, it took everything in him not to do so. How he had wanted to. The surging feeling of regret crashed upon him, his thoughts a whirlwind of doubt. No matter how much he wanted to, his fight against his will prevailed. Marcus had never been one for the whole suitor-dating thing. If he wanted something, he took it. He rarely ever asked for permission, and he didn't like waiting for something to come to him.

  What if she never came back to me?

  The thought caught him by surprise. It rang in his ears and caused his whole body to tense, as though he was preparing to leap out and attack an enemy.

  It was a ridiculous thought. He didn't even know this woman, let alone love her. What did it matter if he never saw her again? What did it matter if she didn't come back? However, even he knew that the whole possession thing was unexplainable and completely irrational. The human concept of love at first sight was the werewolf basis of mating, and werewolves always mated for life. It was pretty black and white, actually. No thought went into a mate selection; it was either there or it wasn’t. All it took was one look at their mate, and they were smitten for life.

&nbs
p; Thing is, Marcus never thought it would happen to him.

  Of course, he believed in the concept. He had seen many of his friends, both male and female, connect with their partner. And he had seen it happen between wolves and humans before.

  It had just taken a while. And Marcus had never been patient.

  Maybe he was just wasting his time. Especially since this particular woman worked for the NDS and they only met because she had been trying to arrest him. She was his natural enemy, wasn't she? So why was he so drawn to her? Why had he chosen her?

  It's not something you can choose, a voice that sounded suspiciously like his late mother reminded him. It just happens.

  Before he could think any more on the matter, a soft knock distracted him. He closed his eyes for a short moment and turned to face the door. He was suddenly tired, wanting nothing more than to crawl underneath the covers of his California-King bed and sleep for the next few days. But as leader of his pack, he just couldn't disappear.

  "Yeah, come in," he said in his usual gruff voice and crossed his arms over his chest.

  He was surprised when Julianne entered, and tilted his head slowly to the side as he studied her. Shouldn't she be sleeping right now?

  "Hey," she said, offering him a warm smile. "I just came to check up on you. Everyone heard what happened. Two out of the four managed to get away. Are you alright?"

  "I'm fine," Marcus told her curtly.

  In all honesty, he didn't particularly want to deal with Julianne right now; he wanted to be left alone with his thoughts. It was nothing personal against her either. Everyone knew that Julianne was probably the most alluring woman in the pack. What was interesting, though, was the fact that she was still single as well.

  Julianne Coiff stood at five foot eight with long, straight raven colored hair that tumbled down her back. Her eyes were a cool, dark blue that seemed to penetrate anything and everything she looked at. Her lips were a natural apple-red color, causing a striking contrast against her smooth, alabaster skin. She held some remarkable curves, but she had a narrower waist. Another remarkable feature she had was her knowledge of fashion that allowed her to enhance what she had and hide what she didn’t, which were her rather narrow hips.

  It was a common trait in every male wolf to check out a potential mate's hips. They resembled sensuality, and also, round hips unconsciously told a male that they could carry children.

  However, Julianne was quite talented in the art of seduction. She was a grown woman and knew that the unattached had carnal needs, just as she did. But currently, she had set her sights on Marcus Sterling as a potential life mate.

  Marcus wasn't stupid and knew when somebody wanted him, but he had never been too thoroughly interested. And even though it was a fact that Julianne Coiff was beautiful, he wasn't interested in what she had to offer, both sexually and emotionally. In fact, if he had to put his type into latent terms, he preferred more of the girl-next-door woman; she looked sweet and acted as such, but behind closed doors, she was anything but.

  And the one thing Julianne was not (besides ugly of course) was the girl next door.

  And that was okay. But it wasn't for Marcus.

  "I'm fine," he told her again before breathing out of his nose. He arched his right brow. "And the others?"

  "They're cleaning up what's left," she told him, still standing in the doorframe. She looked at him with those burning eyes of hers, but for the most part, Marcus looked unaffected.

  "Good," he said. He had never been one for words unless he felt the subject was worth talking about. "So I'll see you in the morning, then." It wasn't a polite question, but rather a flat statement.

  Julianne couldn't keep the disappointment off of her face if she tried, but she quickly slipped back on her mask of indifference.

  "Of course," she murmured, and just like that, Marcus was once again left alone with his thoughts.

  4

  "If I ask you a question," Kendall began, trying to avoid looking in the rearview mirror at her friend who had stumbled to the car with the help of Clive once she had regained consciousness. If Clive hadn’t sent Kendall a distress call, she didn’t know where they’d be right now. "Will you promise not to get mad?" She winced, focusing on her driving rather than the dry look Bridgette was attempting to shoot her through said mirror.

  "I," Bridgette began slowly, trying to maintain her patience. "Promise."

  She knew that Kendall was just worried about her, and the way Kendall dealt with stuff like this was to ask dumb questions. It reassured her that everything was all right, even if it meant that it wasn't.

  "Why are you still alive?" She didn’t want to ask the question, Bridgette knew. In fact, the blonde was surprised she actually did. Her knuckles were white thanks to the death grip on her steering wheel, her eyes focused intently on the black road ahead. Bridgette had no idea how Kendall could see anything, what with protocol insisting that agents refrain from using headlights to ensure a stealthy getaway.

  The problem with dumb questions was that Bridgette never knew how to answer them, and as a result, frustrated her even further.

  "I don't know," Bridgette said, articulating every word.

  Her heartbeat was still beating rapidly, and she was trying to calm it down by placing a hand firmly over her erratic heart. It wouldn’t stop the pace, she knew, but that small bit of pressure on her chest eased the pain a bit. Her mind was swimming, and she shook her head of such thoughts, refusing to think about anything right now. All she wanted was to be back into her room, under her covers her Egyptian cotton covers, drinking a homemade glass of hot chocolate topped with cinnamon and whip cream like the kind her mother made her after a rough day at school. She wanted a fire burning in the fireplace while reading a trashy romance novel. All she wanted was to be safe.

  "I mean," Kendall continued, gripping onto the steering wheel as she furrowed her brows. "I saw him tower over you. Clive said he bit you. I thought you were a goner, for sure. What do you think this means, Bridge? Do you think he's marking you for later? Do you think he looked at you and decided against it?"

  Okay, so maybe Kendall couldn’t exactly take a hint. And usually, Bridgette found such a trait endearing, if she was being honest. She loved Kendall, she really did, but she was not in the mood to deal with a bunch of questions right now. She didn't even know what the fuck had happened to her. She needed time. And space. And silence in order to process rationality.

  "I saw him bite you," Clive agreed in his rusty voice, craning his neck over his shoulder so he could capture Bridgette's form within his blue eyes. Bridgette wasn’t surprised Clive made it out. He was slippery and sneaky and knew the terrain better than anyone at NDS. He was an environment specialist, and was thoroughly informed of a location’s surroundings before setting foot there. "With his teeth.

  "I wanted to wait until later to tell you this after you recovered, Bridge, but since you seem like your usually delightful self, I’ll say this now: This is some serious shit. When a werewolf bites a human, it's injecting itself into the human, both literally and figuratively."

  Bridgette furrowed her brow as Kendall finally made her way onto the highway where it was safe to turn on the headlights. She tugged at her bottom lip, trying to ignore those thoughts again. Of course, she knew that. She was NDS, after all. She just didn’t want to think how Sterling’s bite would affect her. She just wanted to go home. At least, they were on a paved road now. Now she didn't have to worry about any werewolves attacking the car. At night, they usually stayed away from civilization, tending to reside in the lush greenery that surrounded Somerset, which camouflaged them from prying eyes and curious, naïve civilians. Bridgette let out a sigh she wasn't aware she had been holding in and rested her hot forehead on the cool surface of the window.

  "What do you mean?" Kendall asked Clive, looking at him from her rearview mirror

  Bridgette curled her fingers into fists. She didn’t want to hear this. Not right now. Bridgette didn’
t want to confirm the nauseous feeling at the pit of her stomach, but she knew what the sensation was. Worry. In all of Bridgette’s eight-year career with the NDS, this event was the single most frightful thing she had ever gone through. Even worse, what scared her the most was her inability to process what exactly the wolf had done… Was she going to suffer through a transformation at the next full moon? Was the bite a warning?

  "Okay, you've read the reports where humans are bitten by vampires, right?" he asked, and though he was answering Kendall, his gaze was fixed on her. She refused to answer. "Right, so obviously some are turned, some are killed, but some are just bitten. They're still technically human, of course, but there's something slightly different about their genetic make-up. Like a hiccup."

  "So what happens to them?" Bridgette asked, despite herself. Not much was known about werewolf bites. In fact, besides a few cases, there weren’t any humans forcibly bitten by werewolves on record. "Are they treated any differently? Are they still really humans? I don't understand…" She caught herself when she heard the desperation in her voice, and then abruptly cut herself off. Tears now brimmed her eyes and they threatened to spill if she didn’t refrain herself.

  Get a grip, she thought harshly, blinking until the mist had all but disappeared.

  "They're still human," Clive said, as assuring as an arrogant person could sound. “Don't worry about that. This means that you're still human."

  "What about the whole DNA situation?" Bridgette asked. Her eyes were promptly on Clive. "What do you mean, a genetic hiccup? Has my DNA changed because I was bitten?"

  "You'll have to get checked out by our physician," he told her, his mouth setting into a firm line. "And you'll have to take a few blood tests, but from what I hear, if he did inject some of himself into you, then… I guess it's kind of like having a two-way radio built into your body. You're connected to each other. I don't think it means that he can read your mind or hear what you're saying – nothing crazy like that. But there will be some sort of connection to him. When it comes to him, your senses are sharpened and you’re more aware of his presence.”