The Wolf's Demand: An Alpha Shifter Romance (Shifters' Call Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  Bonus: Preview of Book Two of the Shifters’ Call Series

  More Stormy Night Books by Maggie Ryan

  Maggie Ryan Links

  Shanna Handel Links

  The Wolf’s Demand

  By

  Maggie Ryan and Shanna Handel

  Copyright © 2018 by Stormy Night Publications and Maggie Ryan and Shanna Handel

  Copyright © 2018 by Stormy Night Publications and Maggie Ryan and Shanna Handel

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

  www.StormyNightPublications.com

  Ryan, Maggie and Handel, Shanna

  The Wolf’s Demand

  Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

  Images by Period Images, Dreamstime/Sandra Foyt, Shutterstock/Holger Kirk, and Shutterstock/Denis Andricic

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

  Chapter One

  Cassandra

  The first time he ordered me to lie over his lap, I laughed in his face. The second time, I quickly obeyed. I never make the same mistake twice.

  It all started with two little words. Life-altering words that I would soon realize I didn’t even mean. Words that came from the frustration of always seeing the problem, but never realizing a solution. And, maybe, just seeking a little attention.

  “I’m leaving.”

  I spat the words at Deo in the middle of what should have been a knock-down-drag-out yell till someone left the room fights, but wasn’t. How could it be when it was always me doing the yelling and stomping off, and Deo standing with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed, his lips compressed in a thin line, saying, “Cassandra, be reasonable,” but never raising his voice.

  On that day, with those two words, I finally broke through Deo’s calm external barrier. I’m leaving. I couldn’t take it anymore. The fights, the silent nights, the walking around each other on imaginary eggshells. Worse were the mornings after when we would politely move around each other in the kitchen, never touching. Sitting, pouring coffee, and reading the paper together, like strangers.

  I was leaving. I was going to divorce my husband. After months of our passionate dance, I was closing the curtain. At least I said I was. It never crossed my mind, even for a second, that Deo would not allow it, much less that he would change the course of our very existence.

  Deo spoke, his tone unfamiliar and deathly quiet. “Excuse me?” His dark eyes flared, and he took a step toward me.

  “I’m leaving,” I said, with less confidence than before, stepping away from him.

  His words were almost a growl. “You think you are leaving this house?”

  My husband, who had become normal, maybe even a little boring to me, in the mundane routine of our everyday lives, seemed to transform in front of me into a stranger.

  Deo’s name meant ‘godlike’, and his looks lived up to it. Tall and muscular with olive skin, his facial features looked like they had been carved with a chisel. And his hair. God, that hair. Almost black, he wore his dark locks long, but swept back, framing his strong brow, charcoal eyes, and dark lashes. He wore a full beard that he kept short, close to his face, outlining his sculpted jaw. A look of incredulous disbelief overtaking him, Deo’s striking features now made him appear as a menacing Greek god.

  “You think you are leaving me?”

  “Yes,” I managed to choke out, trying to hold my head high and putting my hands on my hips for good measure. I really thought I meant business at the time. “Be reasonable, Deo,” I said, turning the familiar condescending words onto him.

  Another step was taken in my direction. “Is it I who is unreasonable?” he asked, his voice dripping with venom, his finger pointed toward my face. “You made a vow to me. You took an oath. Till death do us part, yet, we are both still standing here.” He took another step toward me, not rushing, not in any way threatening, and yet I could feel my heart begin to pound in my chest.

  Backing up, my shoulders jarred into the wall behind me. I braced myself against it. Deo had never lifted a finger to me, so why was I scared? In the bedroom, he was always gentle, even when I wanted something more. Some unnamed thing. Something missing. Something I craved. It seemed as if he was afraid of hurting me. But not now. His eyes were fixed on me with a look of determination that I’d never seen before. Shaking my head to clear it, I struggled to remember what I’d been saying. Right… I was leaving.

  Lifting my arms and shrugging my shoulders, I argued, “We’ve been screaming at each other for ages. Aren’t you tired of it?”

  “Tired?” Moving slowly, he continued toward me, stopping only inches from my face, my breath catching in my throat as he raised one arm above my head. Placing his open palm flat against the wall next to me, his strong arm blocked me in. His other hand reached up to wrap around my throat, his fingers encircling my flesh. With only the grasp of his fingers and his body surrounding me, I was pinned to the wall.

  He was so much larger, taller, stronger than me. With one squeeze, he could end my life. I should be terrified. I wasn’t. I felt a thrill run through me. A sensation I didn’t recognize coursed through my veins. A rush of heat had my skin growing hot. The look in his eyes was mesmerizing, calling for me to surrender. It was a look of a predator who knew that he had his prey exactly where he wanted. A look that told me in no uncertain terms that this was not like any disagreement or spat we’d ever had. No, this was a look of steel that informed me that I was not in charge… a look of absolute authority that suffused every cell in my body. A product of Deo’s sudden dominance over me.

  “Let me tell you what I am tired of, little girl,” his voice rasped into my ear.

  I gasped as he leaned closer, tilting my chin up with his hold and forcing me to connect with his hard, dark eyes.

  “I am tired of your screaming. I am tired of your games. I am tired of you acting like a child.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic,” I said. “People get married, they fight, they get divorced. It’s the norm nowadays.”

  “You made a vow.”

  “I repeated random words printed on a piece of paper,” I retorted but suddenly couldn’t catch my breath, though the grip he had on my throat didn’t tighten. I knew my eyes had gone wide even as my vision began to darken before I attempted to move further back, to press through the wall, to hide from the presence of a shadow, red eyes floating in blackness, that appeared over Deo’s shoulder.

  “No! Those words are sacred and will not be thrown aside.” Deo’s counter brought me back, froze the whimper of fear before I could utter it as I realized that it had to be nerves causing me to see things as
the kitchen was bright again. The only presence before me was a tall, pissed-off Greek man.

  “I have stood by long enough, giving you your way, thinking—praying even—you would mature. It was my mistake. And I take full responsibility.”

  Suddenly, I was rendered as speechless as a lawyer when new evidence is presented during the middle of a trial. To my colleagues, I am nothing short of a powerhouse. At thirty-four, Deo was a decade older than me, but that didn’t explain how it could be that he felt he could compare me to a child. And yet, for some reason, that wasn’t what was causing me the most conflict. What I couldn’t explain, what I had no words for, was the shame I was feeling for the way his forceful tone was causing my insides to melt.

  With a final squeeze that caused my heart to stutter, he said, “Today, it begins.” Releasing his grip, he ran his fingertips down the column of my neck before his arm returned casually to his side.

  My back pressed into the wall, my knees weak, my mind was having a difficult time moving from the dichotomy of his fingers wrapped like steel around my throat to the gentle, slow caress of those same fingers as he trailed them across my skin. It took several moments before my tongue came to life. “What begins?” I asked intrepidly. I was too intrigued by his words and intimidated by his demeanor to even begin to lay into him about his assessment of me.

  His eyes softened. “Discipline. You lack discipline, my sweet.” The tips of his fingers trailed over my bottom lip. Gently, his index finger brushed underneath my chin, closing my gaping mouth.

  A shiver ran down my spine, there were chill bumps on my arms, and the hairs on my head tingled, and yet it felt as if the temperature in the room had risen ten degrees. Heat rushed through me in waves. Without thinking, I closed the distance between our mouths, pressing my lips to his.

  Withdrawing from my kiss, Deo placed his hand on the center of my chest and pushed me back until my shoulder blades hit the wall with a thump.

  “I thought you were leaving.” His eyes flashed, and a forbidding smile crossed his face.

  Confusion swallowed me. I should be insulted by his throwing my words back into my face. I should have slapped him, not kissed him, but suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to stay and have this new version of Deo carry me off to our room, to do dark, delicious things to me.

  “I-I am… I was,” I stuttered out, trying to salvage what remained of my dignity. The intensity of his gaze was too much. I looked away, down at the hand that felt like it was burning into the center of my chest. I was feverish—everywhere. The truth tumbled from my tingling lips. “I was just… testing you, I guess.”

  “You aren’t going anywhere.”

  Deo brought his mouth to mine, pushing my head against the wall. The kiss was hard, and there was a message behind it that I couldn’t quite read—hunger mixed with anger and a touch of desperation. When he pulled away, I was left breathless, my lips feeling bruised. I wanted more. I wanted him to press me up against the wall and take me. No. That wasn’t right. I was desperate for him to possess me… claim me. To fuck me.

  Instead, Deo pulled away. Giving me one last, cold stare, he grabbed my hand. Without a word of explanation, he led me through the dark halls of our massive house. The clicking of my high heels across the marble floor was the only sound as we made our way. My stomach twisted with nerves when I realized he was not leading me upstairs. Instead, he didn’t pause until we reached the heavy door at the end of the hall. The one that led to his office.

  I had only been allowed in Deo’s office a handful of times. Opening the door with one hand, he led me to the center of the room. Releasing his hold on me, he left me standing alone on the Persian carpet. He walked to the massive mahogany desk, pulling out his rolling antique chair. Opening a drawer in the credenza behind him, Deo removed a crisp white envelope, turning to toss it onto the desk. Disgust lined his face as the paperwork landed with a smack. Hands pressed against the polished surface on either side of the envelope, he simply said, “Our vows.”

  Standing dumbly in the middle of the room, I began to shift my weight and fidget. Suddenly, I pictured myself as a naughty schoolgirl brought before the principal. Why was I in trouble? This was ludicrous. A grown woman tells her husband she’s leaving. It’s that simple. Everyone does it. In fact, over half the women in my firm had divorced their husbands. But why did I suddenly feel powerless in the situation? My usual lawyer tendency to argue did not appear. I was intimidated by Deo’s… What? Anger? No, he wasn’t angry, he hadn’t shouted or even raised his voice. His determination? For what? To make me feel like I was an ungrateful, selfish wife? No. Again, that did not fit.

  Dominance.

  Yes, that was exactly it. The moment I’d spoken those two little words, my husband had changed before my very eyes. He seemed stronger… darker. An odd feeling of submission washed over me, gluing my mouth shut.

  Taking a seat in the chair, Deo leaned his elbows on the desk. His tone even, he asked me, “Do you need to read them?”

  “No,” I whispered, clasping my hands in front of me and turning the toes of my feet inward. I remembered, well, that day the vows were exchanged. Head over heels in love, I’d pledged my life to my husband. Dressed in a dark suit, Deo standing, stoic, at the altar, tears forming in his eyes at the sight of me in my wedding gown came to my mind’s eye. It was one of my favorite memories.

  Deo sat back in his chair, eyeing me casually. Clasping his hands together, fingers entwined, he brought them toward his face. “Take off your shoes,” he commanded, his index fingers moving to press against each other, pointing at me like a gun.

  I obliged. One by one, the black Christian Louboutin patent leather peep-toe pumps with the five-inch heels hit the carpet with a soft thump.

  “Now, your dress.” His voice had deepened.

  The command, for that is exactly what it was, gave me pause. Where was this going? What was he planning to do? Unsure of where these demands would lead, I acquiesced. Getting the dress off was tricky. Deo should know that as he had zipped it up himself, this morning. Trying to maintain my dignity, I pulled my long auburn hair over my shoulder, then reached around my neck and began to pull down the zipper of my red Boden work dress. I managed to get it down a few inches before having to reach up from behind my waist. With a little wriggle, I pulled it the rest of the way down. As I slid my arms free, the dress cascaded to the floor, leaving me standing in the center of the drafty office wearing only my underwear and white silk slip.

  The cold air wafting from the ceiling vent brushed over my exposed skin, doing nothing to help the shivers and chill bumps I already suffered from. My legs almost gave way underneath me when my husband growled, “Come to me, Cassandra.” Dark eyes flashing, Deo looked as if he would devour me.

  Barefooted, I walked across the soft carpet, hesitating before stepping onto the cold, bare wood floor. Noticing my hesitation, Deo held a hand out toward me. I took it. His hand felt large and warm in mine. His eyes were cold.

  Remaining seated in the large desk chair, he spread his legs, pulling me toward him until I was confined between his knees. The silk of my slip clung to the wool of his charcoal dress pants. I stood before him, trembling.

  Looking up at me, my hands in his, Deo said, “Now, what do I do with a little girl who thinks she can break a contract with me?”

  Feeling small, I looked at the floor. His powerful hands still held mine, and the heat from his touch coursed through me as his thumbs stroked over mine, applying a gentle pressure as he spoke.

  “I know what I would do with a business partner, but my wife? That’s another story. This is not the world of finance, but the world of marriage.”

  I stared at his familiar hands. The wedding band, the chain bracelet he never took off. At this point, I had no idea what my husband had in mind, or why I had obediently taken my clothes off and stood before him wearing only my underthings. But I knew, without a doubt, for the first time in our lives, I had pushed Deo to some limit I had not
known existed.

  “Cassandra. Look at me.”

  Shyly, I gazed at my husband through my lashes. Chiseled jaw set, Deo raised his brow to me.

  “The time has come for discipline, little one.” Letting go of my hands, he pushed his chair back, leaving me. The material of his charcoal dress pants made a quick popping noise as it pulled away from my slip. The rational part of me understood the spark I saw was caused by static electricity, yet everything in my soul was telling me this was the beginning of a storm I was unsure I’d be able to weather.

  Unbuttoning the cuffs of his light blue pinstriped button-down shirt, he began to roll up his sleeves. First one, then the other.

  Little one? Discipline? I should have seen it coming sooner, but I hadn’t. The full picture did not come into my mind until he said the words.

  “Over my knee. Now.”

  That was when I laughed. The laugh was a product of nerves and disbelief, but it was loud, and it was aimed at Deo. What happened next, well, as I said, I never make the same mistake twice.

  Chapter Two

  Deo

  “I’m leaving.”

  Hearing those two words coming out of the mouth of the woman I would give my very life for broke something inside me. Not what you might think. Not my heart. Not my soul. No, what it broke was the rule I’d given myself. The rule that I’d set into place when I’d wed this young, beautiful, inexperienced woman. The rule I’d made that said that with time, Cassandra would mature on her own. I heard those words and knew I’d made an error. Instead of following my gut from the first day we wed, incorporating discipline into our marriage, I’d allowed my heart to lead me. And for what? To come to this moment, to hear my wife, the love of my life declare she was leaving, was giving up on our marriage. She had absolutely no idea what her words had set in motion. What she’d learn is that her ‘testing’ had changed the very fabric of our lives.