Page 3 of Axel

No one is awake at this hour. We made sure there were no cameras on houses or nearby doors. There’s nothing to worry about or regret.

With quick strides, I’m sliding into the dark sedan waiting for me at the curb. “Drive,” I tell Sire, my oldest brother.

“Wait for it.” He looks through the passenger windshield. “We don’t leave until we see the hellfire.”

He’s right, so I turn and admire the spectacle, too. A sudden flash of light accompanies the explosion so percussive I feel it in my chest. The lethal fireworks fill me with relief—like it’s July 4th, the day we were freed from our evil father.

“Go,” I command.

I need to get home and change before I chase Ruby through the streets of Charleston. And then? I get to torture her all day at work.

I swear that woman lives in my mind. She owns my dreams, and lately, she’s invaded my heart.

She’s so feisty; I think I’m fucked.

I think I’m in love.

But before Sire can pull away, a light furry flash under the decrepit front porch catches my eye as flames shoot from the structure’s roof.

“Stop!” I shout.

Sire slams on the brakes before I swing the door open.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mutter, stomping back to the scene of my crime. Crouching down, I find her crouched like me, hiding under the porch, her fur golden like a little lion. When I reach for her, surprisingly, she doesn’t fight. She lets me pick her up.Great.“You’re going to be a fucking pain in my ass, aren’t you?”

Carefully, I lift the cat with my leather-gloved hands,feeling her swollen nipples and bloated belly. “Of course, you’re going to be a mom,” I growl, cradling her. “Let me guess: six baby boys.”

But she just stares up at me with big green eyes.

“Shut up,” I softly hiss. “Yeah, I get it. Karma found me, too.”

Why am I talking to this cat like she understands? Don’t ask. I’m too annoyed. This wasn’t part of my plan.

“Now go,” I huff at Sire as I slide into the passenger seat, bracing myself for nervous claws to puncture my jeans the minute we start driving.

“Got a new pussy?” He’s amused. It crinkles the tattoos on his face.

“No,” I slam the door, “you do.”

“Why not.” He shrugs. “Wren would love a pet.”

“She’s pregnant.”

“Not yet.” He smirks, driving toward the interstate. “But once she’s initiated, I’ll breed her in no time.”

I roll my eyes at Sire’s kink. Then again, I have mine, too. “I mean the cat, not your queen.”

“Even better,” Sire replies. “Wren would love kittens until we have kids.”

“Are you sure she’s ready for us?” I worry. Wren is our youngest queen. She’s only twenty.

“You were there.” He checks the speedometer. We don’t speed. We don’t get caught. “She passed her test with so many orgasms, I thought we broke my little angel. But she gets what she wants, and shealwayswants more.”

The memory stirs my cock.

Wren took most of my brothers for her test to be our queen. She wanted us. She moaned, begging for us. She’ll do the same when she’s initiated as Sire’s queen, and I know it arouses my brothers, too.

Yes, it’s a taboo tradition, but our queens love it, and we love them. We’ll die protecting them.

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