convenience, her expensive prize tucked under her arm and her tail between her legs. All the while she was supposed to be thankful that the Master had seen fit to honor her with a night in his bed.
Her gaze dropped to the chair, and her eyes widened. The dress was red, not white.
A red dress meant something entirely different.
“Shit…”
He smiled; his face set in grim lines. “Indeed. The Master has called for a Claiming Chase.”
He withdrew to allow her to change, a feat that took her less than five minutes. The dress was a perfect fit, if it should look like it had been painted on. Cyan grimaced and wriggled, trying to pull the low neckline up to cover more of her ample bust.
Dark red, and decorated with thousands of beads, it was a gorgeous dress. Trouble was, a deep breath would have her tits falling out to say hello to the world and the tightly corseted waist objected to the extra breakfast pastry she’d consumed in her misery.
None of that mattered though. Veyr had called for a Chase. Her heart leapt, then did acrobatics in her chest. She’d never seen a chase. The last one had been years before her birth, but she’d heard of them. A step above a midwinter choice, but not quite a mating, a claiming chase meant the Master wanted to keep a woman. For a while, at least. Given Cyan’s status, it was more than she could have hoped for.
There was just one problem. A chase was public, as was the fucking that came after as the Master claimed his woman in front of the packs.
2
A crowd had already formed in the central courtyard by the time the captain opened the door to lead Cyan out. Hundreds of eyes turned her way, an oppressive interest that made her pause between one step and the next. Panic tightened her throat. She didn’t want to go out there. Since puberty, and the realization she was never going to be able to change, she’d been the freak that everyone looked at. The one they whispered behind their hands about as she passed. The girl who couldn’t change. As she’d gotten older and curvier, moving away from the lithe and slender ideal of lycan beauty, the whispers had changed. Become crueler.
Her chin rose, and she smoothed her hands over her hips. Fuck them all. She not only had curves; she owned those curves. They were her armor. More than that, they had attracted the notice of the Master of the City, not a body that was so skinny she might as well have been a boy.
The captain paused, watching her. His hard expression had softened, understanding in his eyes she hadn’t expected. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. A curt, sharp gesture. “I will be. Let’s rock this.”
Head up, she stepped from the shelter of the doorway. The red skirts swished around her ankles as she walked. The beads shimmered in her peripheral vision, but she looked straight ahead. The crowd around her buzzed, whispers she ignored. She didn’t care what they said about her. Emotions rolled through her. Nothing mattered apart from two things. She would not embarrass herself and her pack in front of all these people. And Veyr waited for her.
She let that one thought coalesce, feeling the truth of it settle in her heart even as heat swirled through her veins at the thought of what was to come. Excitement warred with nerves. She’d never been part of a chase. Not even a betrothal one where the pack ran with the happy couple in a public acknowledgement of their upcoming mating. Knowing she’d never have been able to keep up, she’d always offered to organize the buffet and drinks. Two legs were no match for four. Not in a chase, which meant that this would be quick. Veyr might not be from a noble line, but he was all wolf. All alpha. One strong enough to control all the pack alphas to boot. Chasing her would be no challenge at all.
The crowd opened ahead of her, surrounding a dais. Veyr stood on it, surrounded by the council alphas. Jacob McCauley was to his right, his face almost purple with rage. Cyan hid her smirk.
Shelley Bradley
Jake Logan
Sarah J. Maas
Jane Feather
Susan Aldous, Nicola Pierce
Lin Carter
Jude Deveraux
Rhonda Gibson
A.O. Peart
Michael Innes