Who knew walking in the woods would lead to the adventure of his life? Not Hans. Being held captive by robbers isn't his idea of fun, but there's a silver lining in the form of a hunky wolf shifter. Hans is coming into his own and realizing the depths of his brawn, but things aren't what they seem. Can Hans sort out his feelings for the wolf and defeat the forces working to keep them from their happily ever after before time runs out?
Praise for Savage Protector
"...a quick, enjoyable, and quirky world that I enjoyed visiting. I would definitely try more books by Ms. Slayer in the future."
-- Lisianthus, Long and Short Reviews
"If you like stories with lots of secrets and revelations, if action/adventure is your thing, and if you’re looking for a suspenseful read of the fantastical kind, then you might like this short story."
-- Serena Yates, Rainbow Book Reviews
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Savage Protector (Forever Wicked)
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Megan Slayer
The robbers hardly seemed like father figures. They ate too much, laughed too loud at the grossest things, and brought whores for their amusement. All of them except Pietro. He played the carousing drunk quite well, but the look in his eye told the difference. There was something about Pietro. He stirred a part of Hans deep down inside. Hans kept away from the broad-shouldered man whenever possible. Lingering too long meant explaining the bulge in his jeans.
He shoved the thoughts of Pietro aside and soldiered on with his chores. Being late meant at least a momentary shock from the collar the Captain insisted Hans wear. Stupid collar.
Hans placed the clean plate in the drying rack and fished around for another. The damned bastards didn't even have modern appliances. From what he read in the papers, no one washed dishes by hand any longer. They used sanitizing dish washing machines. Everyone used machinery. Everyone except the robbers -- they kept the archaic household appliances. Soon, he'd be done, and he'd figure out a way to leave -- after he got the damned collar off his neck.
Uneven footsteps thumped on the floor behind him. The Captain. Great. "How old are you now, boy?" He opened his hand on Hans' back and swatted three times. "Gotta be close to legal age."
"I'm twenty-four, sir." He hated calling any of them sir, but if it meant not being shocked, he'd do it.
"Nice age for me." The Captain's hand wandered down to Hans' ass and squeezed. "I think I'm tired of your mother. What about you? I'll bet your tight, white ass is perfect for my cock."
"You said you'd let us go." Hans bit back bile. No way in hell was he going to do anything remotely sexual with this filthy man.
"You're young for twenty-four. I like twinks just like you." The Captain shoved his hand up under Hans' shirt and raked his nails down Hans' back. "You belong to me as long as I choose. No discussion." The Captain spoke right against Hans' ear. "Your mother is quite the treat, but I like a nice, tight ass. Yours."
Anger boiled in Hans' veins. Twinks? He might have been twenty-four, but hell, he worked out and had bulk on his frame. And fuck. The Captain had been using his mother. His suspicions were true. Screw the inevitable pain from the collar -- Hans wasn't going to submit to the bastard Captain. Stepping back, he whipped his hands from the water and hurled a plate at the Captain's head. Suds and water flew all over the floor.
The Captain merely stepped back as the plate crashed against the far wall and smashed into a hundred pieces. "You'll pay for that." He raised his fist and jabbed the remote for the collar. "Pay and then be my bitch."
Jolts of electricity ricocheted through Hans' system. He bit his tongue and crumpled to the floor. Bulk wouldn't protect him from the shock.
The jolts stopped. Hans forced his eyes open and trembled on the floor. He knew that voice. Pietro. The lone robber to show him compassion.
"This is rape," Pietro said. "I didn't sign on for rape."
Something snapped and clicked. The electricity in the collar subsided. "You'll kill him, and what will that do? Fuck us all, that's what. You'll have every Goddamned shifter within a mile radius breathing down our necks just so they can finally arrest your ass."
Hans rested his head on the floor and his stomach lurched. His body still hummed from the shock. Was Pietro standing up for him?
"You want to stick up for him, then fine." The Captain's footsteps once again thudded on the floor. "Pick him up."
A pair of arms hauled Hans to his feet, and he was dragged forward. The rooms whirred by. Something blue caught his attention. Where the hell was he?
"This is what you deserve for sticking your cock where it doesn't belong," Pietro screamed. A door slammed. "Fuck you."
Hans plopped in a heap onto the floor.
"Fuck." Pietro's voice strained and something cracked. The snapping of plastic split the air. "Shit. Almost there. Goddess." Pietro knelt next to Hans. "It worked. The collar is broken. Finally."
Broken? Little by little, Hans regained his senses. He touched the thick piece of plastic about his neck. He looked up into the bluest set of eyes he'd ever seen. Had Pietro always had such beautiful eyes?
"Here. I can remove it now." Cradling Hans between his legs, Pietro removed the collar. "There."
"You didn't have to." Hans rubbed the tender skin. Freedom. Having the collar off wasn't much, but he'd accept the small amount of liberty.
Pietro wrapped an arm around Hans and held him to his chest. "He beat you last year for escaping. You're going to have to really plan out your attack when you try to escape this time, or he'll beat you twice as hard. It's his game." He rubbed his cheek on the top of Hans' head. "I'm sorry."
Hans' mind worked overtime. He sat up, albeit shakily, and placed his hand on Pietro's chest. A spark shot from his hand to his groin, then up to his heart. Yes, Pietro would be dangerous to him, but so hard to resist. And why was Pietro being so nice to him?
"Don't worry about it. I didn't plan my strategy." Hans scooted away from Pietro. "I'll figure it out."