Sierra Cartwright - Doms of Dark Haven

“Very good. Now rise and follow me. Bring your clothing.” Harte led her back into the club, idly noticing that Master Simon was busy on the stage with a flogging demonstration. A very proper-looking woman in blue brocade stood in the doorway, fixated by what she was seeing.

Fresh meat. Someone would have fun with her tonight. He'd have homed in on her if not for his little wolf.

He scented Eva's rising anxiety; obviously the club was overwhelming her. He led her to the locker rooms. “Go do what you need to do for the evening. I'll take care of your clothing and purse.”

She started to object and then most likely remembered that she didn't have a lock. Besides, it was unlikely that the Abraxas hunters would search the men's room.

She was waiting outside for him, standing self-consciously in her little corset and granny boots. Her cheeks were flushed, and her fingers laced together in front of her. To top it all off, she held her chin high, defying anyone to approach her. They returned to the entrance, and her anxiety quickly spiked.

“What bothers you most about the club?” He moved her to the side, and they watched the crowd. Master Simon had left the stage and was speaking with the woman who'd been watching his demonstration.

“The music. I don't go to clubs. It's too loud. The crowds make me uncomfortable.”

“What else?” He had a feeling he already knew, but she had to pinpoint the problem herself. Mistress Alexandra sauntered by. She was dressed in formal men's clothing. Her sub followed, wearing nothing but a collar and leash.

Eva's fear surged and then receded as the women passed. Harte reached out and ran a soothing hand down her spine.

“Is it the collar and leash?”

She looked at him. Her eyes were huge. There were collared subs all over the room, many on leashes.

“To many, the collar is almost like a wedding ring or some other symbol of commitment. It's a great honor for a sub to accept a dom's collar.”

She swallowed hard.

“However, to us, it's innately abhorrent. I also have to suppress my discomfort with the practice.”

“Why? Because it's demeaning?”

He reached out and wrapped his hand around the back of Eva's slender neck.

With a growl, she twisted away.

“It's a dominance zone. If you watch natural wolves—even some dogs—you will see that they lay their heads over the necks and shoulders of others to show dominance. It's very threatening. Even the most submissive among us cannot cope with a collar.”

“Oh.” She frowned as she examined the room, relaxing perceptibly. “How do you adapt to that? When you're here, that is?”

Harte waved at a group across the room. “I'll show you what we do.”

Eva was stunned at how quickly he'd pinpointed her anxiety and how much sense his explanation made. She looked around, noting the collars and wrist cuffs on some of the subs. Dominants wore more clothing and sometimes had floggers hanging from their wrists or belts. One domme in a red velvet hunting jacket sauntered by with a riding quirt in hand.

She sensed movement in the crowd and realized that whoever Harte had signaled was now approaching. It was a man and woman, both attractive and fully dressed in elaborate costumes. A leash dangled from the woman's hand. At the end of it was a beautiful young man wearing breeches and knee-high riding boots. The leash was attached to his wrist rather than to his neck. Her skin prickled when she realized that these must be members of Harte's pack. Eva fought the impulse to growl threateningly.

The woman claimed her attention first. She was of moderate height; her dark hair was fashionably highlighted and twisted in a chignon. Her Hispanic origins showed in her caramel-colored skin and exotic, dark eyes. She was regally dressed in deep maroon velvet, with rich, creamy lace ruffles at the throat and sleeves. The man she was holding hands with was blond and tanned. He looked like a surfer, with sparkling blue eyes and a well-toned body. From the cautious expressions they wore, they were already aware of her wolf.

Their sub was just as beautiful up close as he had been from a distance.

Golden brown hair spilled over his shoulders like waves of honey. His arms were muscular; his chest and belly were well developed. Automatically she knew that this prime bit of male was their omega, the bottom-ranked member of the pack. His gaze slid away from hers, and his smile was sweetly genuine. Immediately she liked him.

“I won't make you kneel before them, but remember to show respect.” Harte didn't look at her as he spoke. Eva gritted her teeth and looked down at her hands.

The woman spoke first.

“You picked up a stray.” She didn't sound unfriendly, but there was an edge to her voice. Eva glanced up, and their eyes locked. The other woman looked away first. Eva stifled a surge of satisfaction.

“Eva, this is Patrice. She and Brian here are mates. Kevin is our omega. He's agreed to sub for them tonight.” She glanced at the young man, and he flushed; his gaze met hers tentatively. That seemed odd for an omega wolf. She gave him a smile, and he ducked his head away. His smile was genuine, but his submission was as feigned as hers. He was humoring his temporary doms. He might be a sub, but his submission had to be earned.

When she looked up at the other man, he held her gaze. Eva looked away first.

He wasn't quite up to Harte's level of dominance, but he was trying.

“I was just explaining to Eva why the collars make her uncomfortable. I wanted her to see how we treat our submissives here at the club.”

Kevin held out his arm so that she could see the broad leather wristband that was attached to the leash. Eva leaned closer to examine it and pulled up short when she felt rather than heard a low growl. She glanced up at Harte to see what she'd done wrong.

“Ask first, Eva.”

She flushed and nodded. “Sir, may I examine his leash?” Instinctively she knew to ask Harte rather than Patrice.

He gave a curt nod. Eva bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something smart-ass.

I can do this.

Once again she looked at the wrist cuff, lifting his arm this time. It wasn't nearly as offensive as the collar.

Okay. If he wants me to, I can deal. Tonight anyway.

“I can also wear a chain around my waist. That doesn't bother me too much. I won't wear a harness, though.” Kevin gave a mock shudder and crossed his hands in front of his body. A slight tug on his leash put him back into position behind Patrice.

“Brian is my second in command.”

She nodded in the blond man's direction. Something about the beta and his mate rubbed her the wrong way. They were saying and doing the right things, but something was slightly off with them.

The music in the club changed as a domme took the stage. She was dressed as a schoolmarm. A young man wearing only breeches waited in a posture of patient submission—he was on his knees, his head bowed. Evidently he was her student and was about to be caned. Eva grinned. That made her remember school, which led to thoughts of her mother and the day two men in black suits had forced her into a van. Everyone on the street had seen it happen, but no one had stepped up to help.

Her smile faded.

A crowd of newcomers surged into the room, and Harte jerked his head, leading the small group back to the interrogation room. Once he had closed the door, Eva welcomed the comparative silence. He leaned against the table, and Brian pulled a chair over for Patrice, then took one for himself. No one offered Eva a chair, though her feet were beginning to grow sore.

Kevin sat on the floor at the far end of his leash and leaned against the wall.

For the moment the rules of the club were being set aside. Eva sighed and slid to the floor next to Kevin. The industrial carpeting was rough on her bottom.