Savage Satisfaction Read Online Free PDF Page B

if to dispel the scents of the
forest and reached for Christoffer, a collar much like the one around the
falcon’s neck in his hand.
    Christoffer scrambled back awkwardly as the wolf was upon
him, causing his bones to twist and pop as his body changed. He was at his most
vulnerable when he changed. He snarled, the sound echoing, but the lord did not
retreat. He slipped around to Christoffer’s side and reached for his neck, the
collar open. Christoffer batted William away with enough force that his bones,
weak from the change, rattled within the thin confinement of his skin.
    With an animal’s whimper, Christoffer bent his head,
breathing through the pain. There was cold against his neck, a quiet snap and
then he knew no more.
     
    William watched as the wolf returned to full human. He would
not soon forget the look of him mid-change—back bulging, face distorted, skin
rippling. He wished it hadn’t happened like that but it was clear that after he
saw Mirela fall, Christoffer would not passively accept the collar.
    William went to Mirela and Christoffer in turn, shifting
them so they lay more comfortably. He checked their pulses and breathing and
they seemed fine. He hadn’t expected the collars to knock them out, but wasn’t
totally surprised. The collars were powerful tools.
    William dropped down to sit in the armchair and looked at
his Hunting Pair. This was it, the moment when he decided just what kind of
lord he would be. There was a war raging within him—a war between the horrors
of his past and his duty, between his father’s civility and his grandfather’s
mastery.
    This building, with its barbaric cages and prison
atmosphere, was a tool, same as the collars. It was a tool he could choose to
use, or choose not to.
    A good man, a civil, rational man, would take the Hunting
Pair back to the house, give them rooms and wish them well. A good man would
care for them and protect them, but would politely ignore the other half of the
agreement, the part that stated that in service for protection of the clans the
Hunting Pair would serve and obey the lord. After all, this agreement had been
made when a falcon and a wolf were necessary parts of a household, and
servitude and slavery were common.
    A good man…a man like his father.
    And if he treated them as his father had treated his pair,
William would have no one but himself to blame if disaster struck.
    William took a set of keys from his pocket and opened the
cell doors. He would keep them separate, though the space had been designed for
them to live in the two smaller side-by-side cells. He placed the wolf in the
single larger cage, dragging him carefully across the floor by the arms. William
hefted him over to the camping cot and was able to lift him enough to lay him
down.
    Christoffer looked so young. William carefully moved the
boy’s head so it wasn’t at an awkward angle. It was startling enough that the
werewolf tribute was a man—he’d been expecting a female. William stroked the
boy’s high cheekbone, ran his palm along the stubble on his jaw.
    What was he doing?
    Shocked with himself, William left the boy, locking the cage
door behind him. He unlocked one of the smaller cages, then lifted the falcon
in his arms and carried her to the cot, again struck by her beauty.
    Setting her down, he indulged himself by running his fingers
along the skin that showed between the bottom of her shirt and her jeans. He carefully
pulled her long hair from beneath her and adjusted the collar so it wouldn’t
press against her jaw.
    He wanted to pull her shirt up, to see what sort of bra she
was wearing. William rose quickly to his feet, stifling the impulse. He felt
like a young man—awkward and hopeless with women.
    Locking her cell behind him, William turned off the lights
and left the converted shed, which he’d mockingly nicknamed “the pen”. Twice on
his walk back to the house William turned around. The impulse to go back, to check
again that they were